the pitchfork disney

Photo: theatreweekly.com

This new revival of Philip Ridley's seminal play is a train hurtling along a track with no conductor, just several unwilling passengers; us, the audience. An hour and a half of unrelenting tension and unspoken desire that you can't escape, being taunted with your morbid curiosity for the horror you know is coming.

The intimate space of the King's Head Theatre allows you to see the physical exertion of the actors up close. Feeling almost claustrophobic and as if you are in the room with the action, almost inches from the actors, seems to even further drive home the tent poles of this production - sex and fear. Reviving this show in a time of fear of 'the other' and increasing division, alongside a rise in religious values and small 'c' conservatism, feels incredibly poignant and proves the ways in which horror can be a such a good vehicle for exploring issues in society and confronting our fears as humans.

Max Harrison's direction has truly achieved Ridley's desire for visceral theatre, theatre that makes you feel something rather than just think. This is the kind of production that writers hope to see happen to their plays, and the kind of production that I am glad has been contributed to the industry.