War of the Worlds – Cast, Doncaster

Writers/Directors: Pete Brooks and Andrew Quick

The experimental theatre company, imitating the dog, has built an impressive reputation on the basis of versions of classic stories that re-cast them as video/aural/semi-cinematic extravaganzas that rely on (usually) four performers filming and constantly rearranging props and miniature environments as well as acting. Their taste leans towards the horror genre such as Dracula and Frankenstein: even their foray into Shakespeare was that bloodiest of plays, Macbeth.

Although they draw on a vast army of video operators and so forth, imitating the dog is essentially three people: co-directors Pete Brooks, Andrew Quick and, in charge of video, Simon Wainwright who creates a series of striking/horrifying/dramatic images; similarly James Hamilton whose electronic music is alternately mysterious and threatening. Brooks and Quick start well enough, with Will Travis waking up in a hospital bed, having missed the Martian invasion, and moving through a series of nightmare scenes with minimal dialogue. Sadly, as the need for more exposition asserts itself, the dialogue scenes are less than inspired.

Brooks and Quick decided to set the story in 1968, with mysterious hints that this invasion has been brought about by the sins of the British people (a passing headline referring to Enoch Powell’s Rivers of Blood speech gives the idea) and, bizarrely, by Travis’ own failings. The stage is dominated by a screen which relays the illusions cast and directors create. Many of the visual effects are stunning: a snake-like Martian invades the curate’s church; different landmarks of London catch fire in various parts of the stage: corridors stretch out for ever in the hospital or on the Underground; the car interiors convince on the screen when the actors in question are often far apart. Occasional slip-ups only prove the general excellence of integration.

Much of the second half is on the road with Travis and his wife in a borrowed Morris Minor, Travis having made his way home to an initially hostile greeting. Apart from the fact that the Minor often appears to have no driver or passengers, this becomes tedious as Travis’ reasons for hospitalisation are spelt out. No doubt Brooks and Quick would point out that this is necessary for the final unveiling of the truth – no spoilers here!

The actors, working largely in close-up, serve the writer/directors well. Gareth Cassidy is the only one who has a chance to develop a character properly and he moves effectively from a tortured dream state into decisiveness and, ultimately, disregard for others. Amy Dunn, as the wife, convincingly projects sincerity, and Bonnie Baddoo and Morgan Bailey put over a series of mostly grotesque characters with relish.

This is not H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds. It’s not even Orson Welles’ or Jeff Wayne’s. It’s very skilfully done, but it’s surely not unfair to suggest that imitating the dog are more devoted to the medium than to the author’s message.

Touring the UK and Switzerland