'A Monster Calls' is not only a film from director J.A. Bayona but also an award-winning novel from Patrick Ness. However, before sitting down to envelope myself in the world of Conor O’Malley and a yew tree outside his bedroom window, I knew nothing of any of these versions. For that, I am grateful, because Sally Cookson’s production of 'A Monster Calls' only made me want to bury myself in the low fantasy novel and film.
The story of 'A Monster Calls' tackles with Conor O’Malley’s mental struggle during the deterioration of his mother’s health. Marianne Oldham in the role of Conor’s mother conveys the truth of struggling through illness. Her character is stubborn yet vulnerable, she’s brave around Conor and she tells the same half-truths any mother does when trying to keep their children safe. A true honour to the character written.
Throughout his tale, Conor tackles bullying and the domineering parenting technique of his grandmother, as well as father returning from America for a brief visit. Conor turns to the monster of the yew tree that has stood on the same grounds of a churchyard for lifetimes. The monster (Stuart Goodwin) tells Conor three stories in an attempt to teach Conor how to navigate school and his home life while speaking his truth.
Suitable for adults and children alike, Cookson graciously handles this difficult subject matter on stage without the fuss of grand props and staging. At all times the cast is on stage and present, sat at the sides on chairs that are used to create the world around Conor (Matthew Tennyson). The only other thing that fills the space is the rope. Lines hang from the rafters, at times separate lengths drape across like curtains split over the stage, while other times they intertwine together to create the great yew tree. A simple set of tools used to make us focus on Conor’s presence on stage and the characters that accompany him.
Tennyson’s portrayal of the thirteen-year-old Conor O’Malley is vulnerable, delicate, and complex. With each stutter of his words and step that is taken with his curled shoulders, the audience feels more and more sympathy for the young boy who’s forced to learn his own truth. While Goodwin’s monster is a stark contrast. Conor remains in his school uniform, swaddled in the safety of familiar clothes, while the monster creates his own images as if from a fairy tale. Berries surround his neck and a bare torso brings to mind tales of folklore and mythical stories. He is a magical being but shows Conor just how humans can be, and how human it is to be angry with grief. Humans are neither good nor evil, and this is the truth the monster is trying to show us all, not only Conor. It’s a lesson we can all learn from, and one told in a beautiful way
The show is a two-hour journey into one boy’s self-understanding and pain. It is a story that will hit some harder than others and will evoke emotions that many have left untouched. For anyone who has lost a parent or loved one, Cookson’s production brings us through the stages of grief so wonderfully that you can almost forgive her for the tears that are shed.
Reviewer - Aidan Bungey
on - 6/6/20
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