Writer: Jen Silverman
Director: Phil Bartlett
The mastiff asks the moorhen, “what do you think of happiness?”
A big old house on the moors is the setting for this weird, dark, thoughtful but uneven play. Taking inspiration from the letters of Charlotte Brontë, written on the edge of the dark sandstone landscape of West Yorkshire, the piece is shot through with bleakness and isolation. What starts out fairly simply as a small but strange family wanting a live-in governess for a child turns into a narrative about manipulation, breakdown, departures from the rules of time and space, and violence.
The humans of the house have their own story, with the animals (the giant mastiff and an injured moorhen) having another. This dual-mode storytelling is smartly effective here in general; ideas in one are re-presented and built on in the other. The inter-species interaction is a mix of poetic highs and dense lows, at times emotionally literate and intensely sad, at others, too earnest and esoteric. Peter Hadfield as the dog is compelling – almost making that character’s slide from lonely nervousness to violent abuser in an intimate relationship seem understandable.
The theme of an unhealthy relationship built on loneliness we see clearly with the dog and bird is the driving force in the main household plot. Mistress of the house, Imogen Mackenzie as Agatha, impersonates her brother to con a young governess, Meredith Lewis as Emilie, into coming to the house with hope of love and a future. Once there, she engineers her own love affair with her, using the younger girl’s feelings as leverage for a cruel plan to secure her own future. Agatha’s also icy to her emotional and needy sister (Kenia Fenton as Huldy). Along with a manipulative maid as catalyst, this coldness fuels a violent and delusional series of events with horrible consequences for the family.
The rich emotional fabric of the play is let down by the routes by which we get to the point. Like Emilie and Agatha’s walk on the moor, it feels at times like there’s step after step with no clear goal or direction before suddenly finding our path again. Emilie’s evolution as a character is also oddly paced, one minute feeling confused and nervous about this odd house and her growing feelings for Agatha, the next stony and comfortable with outrageous cruelty.
The visuals that host all of this are intelligently done – the detailed set and costumes both spring from the mind of Sophia Pardon. The single room set becomes a feature of the play where all the spaces of the house melt together, and the audience placement around the edges of the space makes us feel like we’re in the parlour/scullery/bedroom as unseen voyeurs. Lit well by Jonathan Simpson, it has a nicely atmospheric and spooky gothic sound to it, from Julian Starr, without being cliched.
It’s an intriguing vehicle for themes of loneliness, manipulation and mental health. The unsettling gothic vibes are created and well maintained, which is no easy feat. Toning down some of the more flighty elements and focusing on the areas that matter most could help strengthen that vibe, turning this into something multi-faceted and great.
Runs until 5 November 2022
The Reviews Hub Score
weird, dark, thoughtful but uneven
