Snake in the Grass – Theatr Clwyd, Mold

Writer: Alan Ayckbourn

Director: Francesca Goodridge

The perfect way to settle into the autumnal season, Alan Ayckbourn’s 2002 Snake in the Grass is a thrilling three-hander that director Francesa Goodridge steers with precision.

At the centre are two sisters reunited after their father’s death two weeks prior. Protagonist Annabel (Sue Cleaver) joins her younger sister Miriam (Nicola Stephenson) at there dilapidated family home, only to discover that their father’s death was not the accident Miriam had initially made it out be.

Cleaver and Stephenson are a delight to watch, their magnetic chemistry fuelling the drama. Cleaver plays the sensible older sister with a stern tongue but evident inner trauma, while Stephenson revels as the wild sibling with a darker streak. Annabel is brittle yet eager for closure and order, while Miriam is consistently unsettled and veers between humour and menace.

The third protagonist, Alice Moody (Lisa Zahra), is played with keen precision and a preppy spring in her step. As the late father’s former nurse, Alice seems peripheral at first, but her presence becomes increasingly pivotal as the story unfolds. With her arrival, the balance of power meanders and the narrative takes on a sharper edge.

The stage itself is striking in Theatr Clwyd’s refurbished Weston Theatre, with an abundance of leaves and branches and a set of stone steps create either a heartwarming garden or an eerie, overgrown yard with a 30-foot-deep well. Staged in the round, the product feels both intimate and exposed, as though the audience is eavesdropping on the darkest family secrets.

The show blossoms and broods in equal measure. Goodridge uses the space with flair as constant movement ensures every angle of the round is engaged, while subtle lighting changes and a restrained use of sound heightens the tense atmosphere. Sound is never in excess. Instead, a strange undercurrent of humming emerges in the most horrifying of moments which is simple but completely stunning.

The first act is lighter, peppered with family squabbles, dark humour and petty arguments between the sisters, tied together by their efforts to resist Alice’s growing presence.

It is in the second act that the product bares its teeth. Stephenson in particular does a brilliant job of unwinding the tension and the tone becomes more sinister, with horror-like aspects and moments that have the round flinching. If there is room for any criticism at all, it lies in the slight compression of the second act. Though thrilling, some emotional beats could benefit from more breathing space. With revelations of abuse, guilt and admissions that could destroy a family, those silences deserve a little more time to register. This, however, is a minor quibble in what is other wise an extremely strong and gripping production.

Snake in the Grass is inventively staged, superbly acted and rich with secrets. A darkly comic play that sharpens into something chilling: a compelling autumn night at the theatre is definitely worth the watch.

Runs until 4 October 2025