Wolf Lullaby

There’s something unthinkable about the idea of a child who kills. Childhood innocence is so incongruent with the concept of a murderer that we immediately reach for explanations involving intrinsic evil, parental blame or gross abuse. Drawing from the true-life UK cases of young murderer Mary Bell and victim Jamie Bulger, Wolf Lullaby eschews such simplistic conclusions, exploring instead how people battle to make sense of an utterly inexplicable event which is a tragedy both for the murdered baby and family, and for the child murderer and family whose lives we know will be irrevocably changed. The juxtaposition of the image of childish innocence with the stereotype of the murderer is profoundly disturbing.

This production hinges on the astonishing performance of Rachel Pengilly as nine-year-old Lizzie. Ms Pengilly’s presence on stage is stunningly accurate as a child, to the point where I assumed she must have been twelve-years-old (Ms Pengilly is an artistic director at Ribix Productions and an adult). Her posture and movement, voice and expression are utterly convincing. With these she draws a complex, confusing character– at times pitifully terrified, at others sly and deceptive. But even at her most dangerous, she’s just a kid. Ms Pengilly’s Lizzie is intelligent enough to come up with an almost believable story, but emotionally immature, and how culpable she is for her actions is left open.

The supporting performances are exceptional. Natasha Vickery as the mother Angela is torn between warring emotions, pulled on one hand by the wish to comply with the law and what is right, and on the other with her need to love and protect her child. Later, she simultaneously conveys bewilderment, guilt, and later the flat affect of shock and resignation. The moment she begs “If you love Lizzie, please help me,” is so full of confusion and anguish, it’s heartbreaking. Lizzie’s father Warren (Joel Horwood) however is on a different trajectory so is in no position to respond. Starting with disbelief and denial, Warren can’t bring himself to accept what has clearly happened and slowly withdraws. Craig Alexander as the policeman Ray is initially terrifying and arguably abusive but later shows unexpected warmth and empathy towards the young murderess.

The set itself speaks to the overlay of normality with horror. Although the action moves from Angela’s hairdressing salon to the police cells, the set that we see always is the scene of the murder, with the bricks the boy was hidden behind, a hopscotch grid and a wire fence, there in front of us the whole time in plain sight. The lighting is gloomy and naturalistic, except when Lizzie is being visited by her terrifying delusions.

This production handles a difficult subject with nuance, never resorting to lazy assumptions and raising questions for which there are no simple answers.

Cathy Bannister

Photographer: Cathy Breen.