Writer and Director: Rowenna Mortimer
Morphea lives on a canal boat, moored along what she calls the “water road”. But she is stressed out, can’t sleep because of all the nightmares, her friends are disappearing, and she’s so far in arrears that bailiffs are calling. When she gets a court summons, she decides to appeal to an even higher court – the Queen.
Rowenna Mortimer has crafted a story that is part cost-of-living drama, part myth, with the implication that Morphea is not entirely human but some sort of river goddess. Working with movement director Sally Marie, Mortimer clearly has a vision of how combining fairytale storytelling with social deprivation can create a fulfilling evening of physical theatre.
If only that vision were shared a bit more with the audience. Ella McCormack’s Morphea comes across as a shouty, sulky nightmare, never quite clued in on what is happening in the world. This means that, as the only character on stage, Morphea cannot clue the audience in much, either.
McCormack does capture the physicality of the role well, always animated and engaging with her movement. An attempt to curtsey to the Queen becomes a balancing act akin to tightrope walking; an argument with anglers ends with Morphea flopping rigidly on the floor like a landed fish.
And that physicality is matched by a live percussive score, performed with flair by Micah Baker, primarily on the Cajon. Ferdy Emmet creates a lighting design that literally becomes a character in the drama, as those with whom Morphea is at her most combative are represented by a stark spotlight.
But as beautiful as The Morphea is to look at and hear, it is the script that comes up short. Morphea is sometimes naive, sometimes all-knowing, but most of all comes across as slightly clueless. The play started out as a 15-minute piece before the writer expanded it into its current, hour-long form for the Bloomsbury Festival. Somewhere on that journey, a sense of clarity for the audience has been sacrificed.
The lines between reality and myth, when blurred, have the potential to create some mesmeric work; they create a space where the likes of Gaiman, Murakami and Carter have thrived. Here, though, The Morphea’s fusion of fantasy and verité does not create fertile waters; instead, its work is muddy and occluded.
Reviewed on 14 October 2023
Bloomsbury Festival runs until 22 October 2023
The Reviews Hub Score
Muddy myth-making
