BLOOD WEDDING

Omnibus Theatre

★★★★

“The dynamics are beautifully conveyed by the actors in wonderfully genuine performances”

One of the most telling lines in Barney Norris’ adaptation of Lorca’s “Blood Wedding” is when the young bride, Georgie proclaims ‘I can’t remember what’s good about me’. The mix of fear and confusion in the eyes epitomises not just Nell Williams’ extraordinary performance, but also the nature of the play in which we are repeatedly taken aback by powerful moments of poignancy that burst through the comedic surface. It is a multi-layered piece that brings Lorca’s tragedy right up to date into a very relatable English rural setting. We are in a Wiltshire village on the edge of Salisbury Plain. A seemingly ordinary backwater peopled by everyday characters. Don’t be fooled. Alex Marker’s realistic set places the action around the back of a village hall, but we are somehow thrown into the world of folklore too.

Georgie and Rob (Christopher Neenan) are checking out the slightly run-down venue for their wedding reception. Rob’s mother, Helen (Alix Dunmore), is tagging along, anxious to convey her misgivings about the whole affair. The dynamics are beautifully conveyed by the actors in wonderfully genuine performances that match the natural flow of the dialogue. There is much humour, but small details and verbal tics hint at the darkness that is to come. Director Tricia Thorns is very in tune with the subtleties, often allowing the characters to look out to the audience yet still staying within their own world.

Neenan’s Rob is a delight. With his soft West Country accent, his instantly loveable personality has a simplicity and honesty that Williams’ gently mocking Georgie cannot resist. Nor can we as we root for this couple, despite the protestations of Helen and her severe abandonment complex. Dunmore can switch between caring mother and prophet of doom with remarkable ease while displaying the guilt of not imposing either with enough force. Enter Brian, the village hall’s caretaker. Initially hilarious, his role develops into that of the all-seeing sage. A remarkable performance from David Fielder that shifts into the surreal as he takes on the spiritual symbolism of Lorca’s original text, leading us dramatically towards the bloody and disturbing climax.

But before we get there, we meet Georgie’s old schoolfriend, Danni (Esme Lonsdale) and her bad-boy, Irish traveller husband Lee (Kiefer Moriarty). Lee is Georgie’s ex, and because he reappears on the day of Georgie’s wedding, we can’t help but get a sense of what is coming, whether we are familiar with Lorca’s play or not. Lonsdale gives a real strength to Danni, ably standing up to Moriarty’s slightly unconvincing menace. One of the few inconsistencies of the piece comes with the nagging disbelief that Georgie would be prepared to flee her own wedding and run off with Lee.

Fielder’s Brian tells us that ‘there is more to me than meets the eye’. A statement that can describe this play. The powerful shift in mood and style in the second act could easily have jarred, but in the hands of this talented company it is impressive, and Fielder comes to the fore with a commanding potency. The tears he has in his eyes towards the end seem genuine, and we are impelled to join him. The final epilogue, set a year after the events, is in danger of unnecessarily dragging out the ending, but it neatly sews up of the threads of the story. A tale of the fears and dreams, not just of the newly wed protagonists, but of all of us. Barney Norris has said that he wanted to build a new kind of mythology with this adaptation, particularly to the part of England where he has set the narrative. On that level he succeeds, but his play also has the gift to entertain which, in turn, is a real gift for the audience.

BLOOD WEDDING

Omnibus Theatre

Reviewed on 2nd May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Phil Gammon

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE GUEST | ★★★★★ | April 2025

VANYA IS ALIVE | ★★★★ | February 2025

THE ICE AT THE END OF THE WORLD | ★★★★ | September 2024

MY LIFE AS A COWBOY | ★★★ | August 2024

HASBIAN | ★★★★ | June 2024

COMPOSITOR E | ★★★ | September 2023

BLOOD WEDDING

★★★

“There is humanity and tragedy in the piece, but despite the magnificent performances, the emotional punch is too tender”

It is 1735, and life on St Kilda – in the far reaches of the Outer Hebrides – is pretty stark. And everything smells and tastes of fish. It is an abandoned isle, populated by abandoned people. A place where the crashing waves erode the shoreline and, if you let it, the spirit. But not so Lady Grange, the central figure of Sue Glover’s play based on the real-life wife of the eighteenth-century Lord Grange. A Shakespearean mix of King Lear and Miranda, she whips up her own storm that threatens to silence the unrelenting winds that sweep in from all sides of the island.

Lady Grange was exiled by her estranged husband to the Outer Hebrides, on the basis that she was hysterical, drunk, disorderly and uncivilised. In truth she knew too much about her husband; his Jacobite sympathies shrouded by hypocrisy and political pragmatism. Better she go and rage against the storm in isolation, rather than upset his veneered city life.

The turmoil is all internal and the interest promised by the historical facts doesn’t translate entirely successfully here. Anna Short’s sound design evokes the peace of the farmyard rather than the ravaged sentiments of the central character. The first act serves mainly to set the scene, into which Aneas, a bible-clutching minister and his new wife, Isabel come on a mission. Isabel, all innocence and compliance, is initially the antithesis of Lady Grange. What Glover’s writing cleverly reveals, however, is how the two women have more in common than we originally think. Along with Oona, Grange’s maid, the three women are all trapped in their own gender-defying roles of the time.

Siobhan Redmond is a force as the unhinged Grange – sexual and dangerous; one minute syrup and flirtation, the next acid and acrimony. Redmond portrays a Hamlet-like figure: mad at the world rather than mad within one’s head. Rori Hawthorn is equably believable as Isabel; an ember in the shadow of Finlay Bain’s surreptitiously domineering Aneas, yet Hawthorn reveals the flickers of a burning injustice. The flames fanned by Redmond’s powerful performance.

But it takes until the second act for the momentum to really take hold. Jenny Lee, wonderful as the no-nonsense Oona, is drawn into the fold and the play now belongs to the women. Polly Creed’s direction is finally allowed to flourish, particularly as the trio bond over shared whisky and dissatisfaction. Glover’s underlying comments on gender and power are unleashed as the tongues are loosened, while Bain takes a generous back step, yet without relinquishing his masterful portrayal of the steadfast missionary.

“The Straw Chair” is a play that demands attention, although it does take a while to grab it. Its hold on us is tenuous, but if it lapses, we are soon lured back in, with the added help of some plaintive music. As well as commanding the stage, Hawthorn (with co-violinist, Elisabeth Flett) provides a lyrical, pre-recorded underscore. There is humanity and tragedy in the piece, but despite the magnificent performances, the emotional punch is too tender. We want to hear the waves crash, rather than lap, on the rocky Hebridean shoreline.

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Carla Joy Evans

Tag Archives: Carla Joy Evans

BLOOD WEDDING

★★★★

Omnibus Theatre

BLOOD WEDDING

Omnibus Theatre

★★★★

“The dynamics are beautifully conveyed by the actors in wonderfully genuine performances”