Tess: Ockham’s Razor – The Lowry, Salford

Writer: Thomas Hardy

Adaptor/Director: Alex Harvey & Charlotte Mooney

In many ways Hardy’s moody novel is an obvious choice for adaptation by Ockham’s Razor, a company whose aerial and circus shows have become increasingly narrative-driven over the years. Firstly, Tess of the D’Urbervilles is about a woman whose fate seems to be in the hands of the gods, or rather in the hands of men, which was pretty much the case for any woman born into poverty in the late nineteenth century. Buffeted by circumstance; bullied and pushed around, tough and determined as she is, life gets the better of her.

Circus, then, is the perfect vehicle – physically strong yet humanly fragile, Lila Naruse’s Tess climbs, spins, dangles and falls her way through the story, totally reliant on others, vulnerable and alone. While Naruse has a glorious, quiet presence that makes her the perfect Tess, Joshua Frazer’s Alec D’Urberville has a threatening bearing from the moment we meet him, circling Tess in a giant gold Cyr Wheel, grinning demonically, and leaving no doubt that this story isn’t going to end well.

Secondly, Hardy’s novel is set in an all-embracing landscape, and who better than Ockham’s Razor to create Tess’s world. Ropes hung with rags and huge planks of wood evoke hills, paths, stiles and bridges. A two-storey house is constructed and deconstructed before our eyes, girls swing on gates, drinkers sit at a bar. In the final scene a gallows appears from nowhere then vanishes again. These characters inhabit a convincing and darkly threatening rural Wessex.

While it’s mostly pretty bleak, the company create the occasional moments of humour with lightness and charm. Silk balloons become cows’ udders for a milking scene, three flirty girls make hard work of getting carried across a stream. The show perhaps needs a few more of these lighter moments which show off the circus talents of the whole company so well.

All of the physical work is glorious. In fact the whole thing looks beautiful, with its gentle colour palette and natural materials (Tina Bicât), all sensitively lit by Aideen Malone. If anything though, there’s a bit too much going on, particularly in the abstract video projections (Daniel Denton) which play at the back of the stage, occasionally adding depth and colour, but equally often creating a distraction from the action.

Unfortunately there’s a much bigger distraction – the awkward and overblown narration that’s rather clumsily thrown in to the mix. A pointless second Tess (Macadie Amoroso) stalks about the stage narrating everything that’s going on. To say this is unnecessary is an understatement, it jars horribly with the subtlety of the physical storytelling, and is gracelessly delivered. While no-one doubts the power of Hardy’s words, here they become pompous and cheerless. Nothing would be lost without this commentary, the titles projected at the back of the stage set up each chapter fairly clearly and the brilliant direction and choreography (Alex Harvey and Charlotte Mooney) leave nothing physically unsaid. Without the narrative the show would be tighter and shorter, ideally removing the need for a disruptive interval and increasing the powerful intensity that unfortunately gets rather lost.

Runs until 17 February 2024