Ockham’s Razor: Tess – Peacock Theatre, London

Adapters and Directors: Alex Harvey and Charlotte Mooney

At first glance, Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles might not seem an obvious choice for a cirque-based adaptation. But the story of a wronged woman – forever tainted by the actions of men over which she had no control – continues to resonate. For production company Ockham’s Razor, the high emotions involved offer an opportunity to be expressed through movement while offering school children studying the novel an opportunity to appreciate the story through new eyes.

In Alex Harvey and Charlotte Mooney’s adaptation, Tess Durbeyfield is played by two actors. Macadie Amoroso narrates as Tess’s spirit, reflecting on her life’s events as they unfold. Alongside her, Lila Naruse takes on the role of Tess as she was, starting as a wilful young girl in the large Durbeyfield family until her encounters with her rich, distant cousins, the d’Urbevilles, change the course of her life.

Tina Bicât’s set design, all rough-hewn wood and ragged fabrics, places the work in a rural environment that expressively embodies Hardy’s Wessex. The undulating landscapes become planks carried at angles, over which Naruse and the rest of the company careen, working their way over stiles and hedgerows as if doing it all their lives.

The natural fabrics and uncoloured hues provide a stark contrast to the arrival of Joshua Frazer’s Alec D’Urberville, liveried in black and scarlet. His character’s introduction comes by means of a Cyr wheel routine that demonstrates the peak of what narrative cirque can be – character-informing, emotionally resonant, and full of acrobatic skill so finely tuned it can seem effortless.

But while that routine sets a standard, there’s a sense that the rest of the piece never quite reaches the same heights again. Partly that’s down to the source material – Alec’s implied rape of Tess, the sickly baby that results nine months later. While Nathan Johnston’s choreography helps to convey the raw emotion inherent in Tess’s life, the flashier aspects of cirque must remain tempered.

That is no bad thing when fitting the timbre of the story being told, of course, but it means the reason for choosing this as a medium to tell Hardy’s story feels dilute. Tess feels like it is set in many different genres but never quite gets the best of any of them.The dance elements are there, but never quite as expressive of emotion as they could be.

Whereas a full dance piece would take care to express every character’s thought processes through movement, Tess-as-narrator removes that need, leaving the movement never quite as relevant to the story as it could be. Perhaps the closest the piece comes to a good fit is the carefree interactions as we first meet Nat Whittingham’s Angel Clare. As Tess and her friends tussle for the attention of the handsome gentleman farmer, there is an air of lightness, of precise but gleeful evocation of cirque, that justifies the combination of material and performance style.

The conclusion of the piece brings us to Tess’s execution, the point at which Amoroso had started the story. Here, Naruse gets the opportunity for some fine acrobatic work, the thick aerial rope evoking the rough texture of the hangman’s noose. But we fade into darkness at the end, a slight, disappointing conclusion where one would have hoped Naruse and Amoroso could have been united as one at last.

Tess is a moving, if only fitfully satisfying, adaptation of Hardy’s novel and will no doubt provoke inspiration and discussion for those always looking for new angles with which to explore the text. But it also carries with it a sense of something missing; for all the boldness of using physical movement and cirque to tell the story, it is a little more flat than one would hope.

Continues until 3 February 2024 and continues to tour