Almeida Theatre, London
*
In 1898, Henry James published an intense psychological tale
of terror that would become a staple in the gothic establishment, made up of a distinct
blend of supernatural ambiguity and sexual repression. Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s
adaptation however, currently running at the Almedia Theatre and co-produced by
Hammer Theatre of Horror, lacks any of this distinction. It staggers in an
indulgent verbosity that can border on the tedious as much as it can be strikingly
enthralling.
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| Photo: Nobby Clark |
Featuring a naïve governess and two children being haunted by
the ghosts of an old mansion’s previous occupants, the story’s claustrophobic
setting would appear an ideal first theatrical venture for Hammer, and a
perfect fit to the intimate set-up of the Almeida. The innovative Lenkiewicz
had chilling material to adapt, and talented director Lindsay Posner had a
fitting space in which to construct terror. Both should be
applauded for their bravery and ambition, but despite their efforts and some
genuinely solid theatrical craftsmanship from illusionist Scott Penrose, the
production just seemed to miss the mark. Long-windedness and a nagging
unrefined feeling hindered a rare opportunity to not only disturb an audience, but
also to scrutinize moral orthodoxy.
The opening scene, in
which Sackville (Orlando Wells) discusses with the Governess (Anna Madeley) the
role she is about to undertake at his country mansion, fails to capture the
tension or allure required for the prologue to ignite. This was probably due to
the exaggerated upper-class demeanour of Sackville, who, despite only appearing
once, seemed to exist purely as a narrative device.
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| Photo: Nobby Clark |
Madeley captures the contradiction
of the Governess’s stern yet entirely fragile demeanour quite effectively. Gemma
Jones supports her with a solid performance as Mrs Grose, the housekeeper, although
the writing perhaps does not flesh out this character enough. Then enter Miles and
Flora, the relentlessly irritating and consistently unvarying children. Clearly,
Laurence Belcher and Emilia Jones are both very capable performers with bright
futures, but as the dark centre of the story, they hover between a certain kind
of precociousness and a lack of involvement in the essential erotic effusion.
Scary things then happen,
and for the most part are well executed, as is the case of the ghost’s
appearance in a bed, or of a floating piece of chalk. On the other hand, the ghost’s
manifestation on a tower upstage was almost entirely obscured from my vision,
despite being in the front row. My view was once again obstructed in the final
few moments. I really could not tell you how the play ended, as all I was able
to see of the Governess and Miles’s seeming descent into madness was the back
of the actors, writhing about on a sofa.
This version of The Turn of the Screw, like any good
theatrical horror, should make it socially acceptable for us to purge our
anxieties and confront our darker consciousness in a cathartic way. Instead,
the audience must struggle to see the stage, and must endure persistent clunky
pacing. The play sets an ambience of confusion and awkwardness that lingers for
some time afterwards.
This production
runs until 16th March 2013.
For more information: http://www.almeida.co.uk/event/turn
@AlmeidaTheatre
@hammerfilms
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