Witch
This review could be written in ten words. I have already purchased more tickets for later this week. But there is much more to say.
The title, Witch, is misleading. Jen Silverman’s inspiration was a 1631 play (allegedly quite bad) called The Witch of Edmonton. Yes, Elizabeth is called a witch, but only because she is poor, single and ostracised. There is no hocus pocus here; it is all much too real. Elizabeth is made what she is by those who label her.
This is not Nosferatu but it does resonate with The Crucible. Rather than 50s McCarthyism, Witch reflects a corrupt political system where the art of the deal is at the heart of everything. What is a soul worth? What is so desirous that you are prepared to trade for it? The hopeful bright future offered by the Devil (Scratch) reaffirms that humanity is venal, self-serving, and vicious. Any morality is sacrificed to personal gain.
And yet this play is hopeful and in rapid turn, hilariously funny and moving.
Witch is visually very satisfying. Megan Kenna’s set comprises the formal dining hall of Sir Arthur Banks (rear) and the mean cottage of Elizabeth in the foreground. The Banks’ castle is characterised by darkly painted panelling, embossed with a decorative frieze. The table is richly furnished with food wine and candelabra. Contrasting with this cold formality, the side walls of the proscenium are swathed in fabric and dried plants to indicate Elizabeth’s rustic domain. Natural materials glow in the warmth of lamplight. The soundscape adds another layer of intention to what is convincing stage world.
Elizabeth appears “homespun” is a coarse weave of what could be naturally dyed. The men are of a different class, dressed in the traditional period breeches and hose, with a linen shirt over which is a doublet with the slashed and puffed sleeves so common under the sumptuary laws. Sleeves are laced, clothing is tied together. Sir Arthur has an extraordinary hat and stole. The attention to detail even extends to the Devil’s shoes.
The period clothing and the considered set are very much in contrast to the absolutely contemporary language. The characters (six of them) might look different but are very much recognisable as from our own time.
The actors could not have been better chosen. Emesha Rudolf gives Elizabeth emotional sensibility, courage and spark. Rudolf plays with integrity and intelligence to create a character with integrity and intelligence. Noah Casey is wonderful as Scratch, the devil. Scratch may well be a top salesman in a Fortune 500 company until his vulnerabilities are revealed. The relationship between Elizabeth and Scratch is a charming study of two strangers on an unexpected path to self and mutual discovery.
Steven Jones is outstanding as Sir Arthur Banks. The slight slurring of his sibilants helps to create “the childish treble, pipes and whistles in his sound” as much as does his “shrunk shank”. The monologue to his dead wife is a highlight.
Andy Aisbett is extraordinary as Cuddy Banks, the disappointing heir to the Banks estates. It is difficult to speak of Aisbett without reference to Cuddy Banks’s antagonist, Frank Thorney, played by Rhys Prestedge. The funniest scenes are between these two. Frank Thorney is the adopted heir to the Banks legacy, and foil to the legitimate but inadequate, rightful claimant. Their fight scene is an astonishing piece of choreography that epitomises the way in which the tone of this piece can turn on a dime. There is chemistry between these two which makes what follows, a piece of theatre that will stay with me till the end of my days. I did not know whether I wanted to laugh or cry and when I cried, I wanted to do violence to those who laughed. This is also the way I feel when reading the news but for different reasons. What is ridiculous becomes wrong and then simply and horrifically sad.
Tay Lowry rounds out the cast as Winifred, who is much more than a maid. Lowry invests Winfred with humour, pathos and sensitivity. Winifred is a woman close to power but has none. Like so many women, when dismissed she has no recourse but to go the devil.
Witch has a short season at the Hidden Theatre. This is one production you would be foolish to miss. The characters are flawed, likeable, recognisable and real. The acting and directing is something totally extra.
Witch purports to be a play about hope. It certainly illustrates the need for systemic change. Perhaps there is something amazing around the corner. But perhaps we have to burn down everything we know to get there.
Anne Blythe-Cooper
Photographer: Jacob Golding
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