★★½

“Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story”

This new adaptation brings Ali Smith’s 2016 novel, which is widely viewed as ‘the first post-Brexit novel’ to the stage.

Across two timelines we follow 13-year-old Elisabeth Demand as she befriends her whimsical elderly neighbour Daniel Gluck and the same two characters, 20 years later as Daniel lies comatose in a care facility. There are also a couple of scenes which deviate into the fantastical. A scene between Daniel and his sister, which takes place in a dream world and a scene which details the life of 1960s pop artist Pauline Boty.

Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story, which follows an unlikeable and uninteresting protagonist.

Grace Venning’s set design is playful, props are pulled from drawers and a chaise longue is propped against a backdrop of autumnal trees. There’s innovative use of plastic dust sheets, especially in an evocation of The Tempest. It’s this moment too where Ali Hunter’s lighting design comes into force. Jamie Lu’s sound is most interesting in its subtle hum of the care facility.

There are some glittering moments. Daniel and his sister, who charmingly calls him her summer brother, dance around each other while she’s dressed in a suit of armour. Gary Lilburn as Daniel is joy encapsulated. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he embodies the aging bohemian, making it achingly clear that this story should follow him, by far the most interesting character. This scene particularly sparkles, in part because of clever movement direction from Vickers, but also because of the stunning performance from Nancy Crane. She multi roles throughout the show, some highlights being the smug bureaucratic Post Office worker, the knowing Eastern European cleaner and the New York psychotherapist. She gives each of these women a depth and realism and brings an effortless wit. For much of the show she watches on from the side-lines, a peculiar directorial choice, but her reactions are scene stealing. Lilburn and Crane’s playfulness and joy in this scene is a delightful respite from the gloom that hangs over much of the play.

Both Rebecca Banatvala and Sophie Ward are also strong, as mother and daughter, it’s just that their characters are hard to pinpoint. Elisabeth is utterly joyless, with a single-minded focus on Gluck, which is never fully untangled. Her mother is under explored, and her state of the nation monologues feel tired, nearly a decade on. While ostensibly a political commentary, nothing new or fresh is discussed. Characters bemoan their tiredness with the system, the liars, the current situation. There are comments on racist graffiti and the migrant crisis but it feels tangential to the main narrative. This play doesn’t fully decide what it is, whether it’s a family drama or a state of the nation lament. And it’s not clear what, in 2024, it is adding to the conversation about Brexit, which is relevant or interesting to today.

THE BLEEDING TREE at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“Vaguely Gothic, but down to earth; a touch of the supernatural brushing against domestic tragedy”

A crackling wail, somewhere between a synthesized didgeridoo and a death rattle, rises from the red earth, swelling into an anguished crescendo while three nameless women hiss with venom, spitting bitter fear and loathing at a corpse we cannot see. The mother and two daughters move and speak in staccato, jarring rhythms; locked in their state of shock and disbelief, dread and relief. The lifeless body is their husband and father, who gasped his last with a bullet through the neck.

This is not going to be comfortable viewing. Angus Cerini’s “The Bleeding Tree” is a hard-hitting murder ballad, poetic in its delivery yet full of raw rage. Mariah Gale is the mother while Elizabeth Dulau and Alexandra Jensen play the daughters, interchangeable and often indistinguishable from each other. The emotional power is impressive as they sway between culpability and victimhood. Their abuser, now lifeless on the ground, still torments them.

The one flaw in this otherwise impeccable hour-long play is that we are never sure whose side we are on. But then maybe that is the whole point of Cerini’s writing. The lines between the abused and the abuser become blurred. We never learn the full extent or true nature of the suffering caused by the deceased, but we are stealthily led to believe his end is justified. Yet somehow, we are not asked to judge. We are witnesses but not the jury.

Ali Hunter’s atmospheric lighting places the action in an eternal twilight. Jasmine Swan’s simple setting cleverly conveys the internal claustrophobia of these characters while also evoking the bleak terracotta backdrop of the Outback where further perils may lie. A knock at the door causes panic. The women ripple in unison as their savage secret is in danger of being discovered by their neighbours. Gale, Dulau and Jensen deftly switch into the roles of the outsiders; Mr Jones and Mrs Smith, and the postman-come-policeman who feed them with alibis and cover-ups. The beautifully flowing dialogue belies the complex issues bubbling underneath. Many a blind eye is being turned. Yet it seems that the events that led to this bloody conclusion were also equally ignored by those that perhaps should have seen it coming.

Sophie Drake’s minimal staging allows the cast to focus on the crucial and radical text. We learn what ‘The Bleeding Tree’ of the play’s title refers to, and it is quite harrowing. The protagonists may be left with mixed feelings eating away at them, from the inside out, but that is nothing compared to the literal fate of the decomposing body of evidence before them that needs to be disposed of.

“The Bleeding Tree” forces us to face important questions. Instead of offering answers it dresses them in atmospheric layers of theatricality. The result is something quite extraordinary. Vaguely Gothic, but down to earth; a touch of the supernatural brushing against domestic tragedy. Cerini writes with the pen of a poet but the mind of a crime writer. A thrilling combination that, combined with the excellent performances, is a theatrical experience that makes us look at its extreme subject matter in a new light.

AUTUMN at Park Theatre

★★½

“Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story”

AUTUMN at Park Theatre

Reviewed on 18th October 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Harry Elletson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

AUTUMN

AUTUMN

THE BLEEDING TREE at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“Vaguely Gothic, but down to earth; a touch of the supernatural brushing against domestic tragedy”

THE BLEEDING TREE at Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 3rd June 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

THE BLEEDING TREE

THE BLEEDING TREE