A Woman on Fire –Barons Court Theatre, London

Writer: Sarah Majland

Director: Casper Aagaard

Quid Pro Quo Theatre transports us back to the 1950s in its second production, A Woman on Fire. A young mother named Harper is struggling. Having abandoned a promising writing career, she now seeks solace in a bottle rather than the pen. Popping pills and meandering through her days in a haze, she relies on the help of nanny Therese to raise her daughter. Her husband Mark is also struggling to cope and has his bags packed ready to leave at any moment if the pressure cooker that is his family home becomes too much. He has his own issues to deal with having fallen for the handsome Oliver. Secrets, lies and hidden agendas underscore this intense four-hander.

An extensive list of trigger warnings displayed outside the theatre informs us that the evening will not exactly be brimming with cheer. While there is a smattering of awkward laughs, the subject matter makes for a rather solemn affair. It’s appropriate given the array of topics explored, from depression and suicide to internalised homophobia.

Sarah Majland is the titular woman and the writer of the play. We find her adopting various positions at her kitchen table, a bottle of booze and an ashtray beside her, as we shuffle to our seats. With the audience seated on three sides of the intimate stage area, we can’t help but feel immersed and involved in the action of the play. Initially, the cast appears to be playing to a much bigger house. Voices are too loud and actions too exaggerated for such a small setting. Within minutes, though, they each find their stride and settle comfortably into their roles.

Majland is quick to garner our sympathies as Harper, a woman who is quite clearly very vulnerable. As the play progresses and her behaviour becomes more outlandish, we find ourselves rooting for her while also being shocked by some of her actions. Our feelings towards her are just as conflicted as her feelings toward herself. Crucially, Majland ensures her character remains believable and resists playing her to over-the-top troubled rich housewife stereotype. Thanks to the time period in which the play is set, we know that her undiagnosed and untreated postpartum depression is a very real condition that was simply not acknowledged back then.

Boyan Petrov encapsulates a multitude of emotions as Mark. He paints the picture of a man riddled with inner conflict. He so desires to have the perfect life and on paper he has it. Behind closed doors, however, he is furiously wrestling with his homosexuality, which he refuses to accept despite having an extramarital relationship with a man. At the same time, he is navigating a high-pressured job while also endeavouring to look after his fraught wife. His exhaustion around her is palpable. The actor nicely contradicts this when sharing scenes with lover Oliver – his body language and demeanour transforming whenever he is in his presence.

Öncel Camci, who also composes original music for the play, excels as the gay writer who, like the others, has his own interests to protect. Through carefully considered facial expression, the actor conveys a great deal and one cannot help but be drawn to him whenever he is on stage. Camci feels a tad underused early in the play but brings a wealth of drama to proceedings as we move towards the climax. An actor to watch out for.

Chloe Winney is again very natural in the role of Therese. While her hidden agenda is not so hidden – at one point she arrives on stage wearing an almost identical outfit to her employer – the performer presents a well-rounded portrayal of someone with conflicting intentions. She shares some wonderfully engaging scenes with Majland and flits between being caring to putting her own interests first. What works well here is that regardless of how questionable the actions of each character, the audience is permitted the chance to understand their different perspectives and motivations rather than only looking through the eyes of one.

Segments of the script are spoken by Harper in the third person, which emphasises the detachment her character feels. Although some of the dialogue feels overwritten, it retains a 1950s formality and occasionally offers some beautifully lyrical lines. Majland’s script along with Casper Aagaard’s sensitive direction affords each scene space to breathe. Interactions therefore flow organically with the dialogue suitably natural. This works for the bulk of the piece; however, some scenes are too drawn out and repetition inevitably creeps in. This is to the detriment of the pace.

At two hours it is too long, and an interval feels redundant – slamming on the brakes when we really need to be shifting gears as we cruise into the climax. A slight edit would allow the piece to feel tighter and more contained, which would enable it to pack a greater punch. That said, this is a powerful piece of theatre that tackles pertinent issues, with much of what is explored still applicable to life over 70 years after the time in which it is set. The acting elevates the evening and places these four individuals, who have recently graduated from East 15 Acting School, firmly on the map. We also eagerly await what Majland writes next.

Runs until 11 November 2023