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Thursday, 13 February 2020
THEATRE REVIEW: Wuthering Heights - The Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester.
Andrew Sheridan’s new adaptation of the Emily Bronte novel aimed at the primal aspects of the story. With elegant direction by Bryony Shanahan, a couple of live rock musicians, and some taxidermied birds spreading their wings up a wind-lashed dead tree, the Royal Exchange Theatre put its own very distinctive stamp on the production.
Designer Cecile Tremolieres had transformed the stage into a foggy, misty moorland of swamp and hillocks and plants, with a swaying swing to one side, and the dead tree looming over the stage with imploringly outstretched branches. Tremolieres’ costumes were mostly mid-Victorian, but with anarchic touches such as a jewelled earring in wealthy Heathcliff’s ear, and some really vibrant shades of dark pink and purple satin among the otherwise soft earthy tones. The only furniture was a few chairs and a tin bath – but in such a lush landscape, no further items were needed.
Lighting designer Zoe Spurr had narrow vertical lights providing dim illumination; but the absolute aesthetic star was Alexandra Faye Braithwaite and her ever-present, pulsating, subtly electronic sound score. Running from lyrical folk-like melodies to hard rock guitar riffs and quiet throbbing sounds that felt like blood moving, it was a wonder there wasn’t a soundtrack album available for sale afterwards.
Into this playground came Bronte’s famous story of oppression, rivalry, revenge and doomed romance.
Rakhee Sharma was earthy, fiery and sublime as Cathy. The story had been skewed to show her inner life as well as her outer life, and there were moments such as when she stopped time, and atoms appeared to be dancing around her, that were truly magical.
Gurjeet Singh matched her in intensity as her brother Hindley. He gave quite a nuanced and intelligent performance that journeyed from the unloved and spiteful boy to the smugly proud man – and then his fall into drunkenness and desperation.
David Crellin was warm and patient as their father Earnshaw, though with just a touch of edge when dealing with his son Hindley. Samantha Power was another warm presence as the housekeeper Nelly, but she was always observant, and her face kept up a running inner monologue of its own.
As the awkward gentleman suitor Edgar, Dean Fagan brought a touch of perfectly timed light comedy into the gloom. Doubling as both Edgar’s unwillingly virginal sister Isabella and Hindley’s snooty wife Frances, Rhiannon Clements had her own light touch and sense of comedy, and she especially had a lovely daffiness with Isabella.
Becky Wilkie and Sophie Galpin kept ultimate coolness as the live musicians, and child performers Raya Dasgupta and Lewis Freeman were fresh and innocent as the children of Cathy and Hindley.
Absolutely incredible though, was the performance of Alex Austin as Heathcliff. He was an unconventional casting choice – this is not the Laurence Olivier interpretation – but he embodied the primal unfettered rawness of the production’s aims to the maximum. Having spent most of the first act as an unwashed, abused and thoroughly unlikable feral street child: in Act Two he returned from his exile as a man, and a wealthy and well-dressed one – and this dynamic combination of Loki / rock god / elongated goblin relishing in his power was original, unnerving, and like nothing this reviewer had seen before. Austin sustained a very unpleasant yet laser-sharp energy right to the death scenes at the end – and by that point, the audience were quietly begging for release.
Reviewer - Thalia Terpsichore
on - 12/2/20
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