Writer: Megan Marszal
Director: Lucinda Freeburn
True crime is a burgeoning business these days, with podcasts, Netflix documentaries, books and more attempting to satisfy our apparently unquenchable thirst for tales of real-life murder.
Theatre has tended to stay away from the genre, perhaps thankfully for those of us who find the true crime obsession to tend towards the tawdry. Her Shoes, a solo piece written and performed by Megan Marszal, attempts to bridge that gap. By presenting a necessarily fictionalised version of a real case, Marszal successfully navigates the portrayal of a real crime in a small pub theatre environment.
Marszal’s piece sees the actor-writer play many roles, focusing on Emma, a Bristolian beauty therapist whose engagement and impending marriage to her fiancé is overshadowed by her older sister Jean’s discovery that her husband has been having an affair.
Within this domestic drama, Marszal plays up the comedic aspects of Emma’s chaotic family life, from the culture clash between her and her fiancé’s families at the engagement party to her mother’s jubilant reaction when she discovers the cancer for which she is being treated has not spread.
The gradual realisation that Jean has not, as her husband suggests, gone for a short spa break but is missing is effectively played out, the tenor of her play gradually switching from light drama to creeping dread. There is a tendency to play up the grotesque qualities in her male characters, especially with a gourmand of a police detective assigned to the case. But while such comedic touches are occasionally overplayed, they are always balanced with some fine observation work.
Scenes and time jumps are covered by a forensic specialist bagging and tagging a woman’s odd shoes, left by the sister at home and considered to be a clue that her disappearance was not, as her husband would claim, her leaving him. It is also a direct reference to the real-life case that inspires Marszal’s fiction. A woman disappeared in 1997; her husband, who had been having an affair, was charged with her murder even though no body had been found, and no DNA evidence corroborated any theory of foul play. He was acquitted, and the case remains open.
The inconclusive nature of the true story is similarly reflected by Marszal, as the question of whether to believe Jean is alive or dead is left hanging. Her play ends with some projected captions about the real case, which unfortunately got messed up at the reviewed performance. But they are ultimately unnecessary: while it is commonplace for TV documentaries to end with text summarising the state of events after their retelling has ceased, Marszal’s piece speaks for itself. If true crime is to be brought onto the stage, this is the way to do it.
Continues until 28 January 2024
