Tag Archives: Danny Kirrane

MANHUNT

★★★★

Royal Court

MANHUNT

Royal Court

★★★★

“Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force”

Behind a metallic, gauze curtain a figure paces back and forth. Shaven headed. His shadow follows him across the vertical wall of the translucent screen – a projected alter ego pursuing its prey, fuelling the claustrophobic motions of the man’s repetitive circuit. His behaviour is erratic yet painfully routine. It’s like watching a captive animal through the bars of a zoo’s enclosure.

A flash of brilliant white light releases him to tell his story. It’s a story that dominated the front pages and caught the public imagination during the summer of 2010. That of the major police operation across Tyne and Wear – the manhunt for fugitive Raoul Moat. The ex-prisoner was on the run for nearly a week after a killing spree, ending with a six-hour standoff with armed police and Moat’s suicide. It was a story that landed in the lap of journalist Andrew Hankinson whose subsequent book inspired Robert Icke’s brutal and challenging one-act play. The overriding word on our lips is ‘why?’

“Manhunt” doesn’t offer any answers, but it poses the question from every angle, looking at the horrific events through the eyes of the victims and the perpetrator, often begging us to ask which is which. Icke’s writing and direction steer the narrative in a cyclical fashion, swinging between flashbacks and the present. It is often Kafkaesque in its approach as Moat fights a system he believes has been against him since birth. Whether we are supposed to be or not, we are drawn into Moat’s own tragedy as much as his victim’s which is unsettling to say the least. Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force that reinforces this with a warped honesty as he tries to justify himself. All the while he is surrounded by figures from his past and present: the judges and juries that accuse him of hitting his daughter; the ex-partner; his childhood self, locked in his room by his unstable mother; the father he never knew; social workers; friends, accomplices and detractors, and most importantly his victims. A poignant extended blackout heightens a first-hand account from a police officer he randomly shot and blinded in a cold-hearted act of revenge.

The supporting cast who play the multiple roles are as equally compelling as Edward-Cook, if not as frightening. This could well have been a one man show along the lines of the recent ‘Kenrex’, which follows similar themes, but the ensemble here fleshes out the account and adds a distinct and welcome light and shade. There is occasional confusion during moments when we are unsure that what we are witnessing is in Moat’s mind or in reality. Hallucinations overlap real life too often, yet it all adds to the unease, and we are constantly left unsure who to believe. So rather than collude with anybody we end up trusting no one. An unsatisfactory and dangerous position to be in, but one that maybe Icke is trying to spotlight.

Danger is an undercurrent that bursts to the surface constantly. Edward-Cook’s manic, wild-eyed stare cements this. He is a drowning man watching his life flash before him. Azusa Ono’s lighting evokes the episodes with haunting atmosphere, from the coldness of a prison cell to the campfire warmth of his last hiding place in the Northumbrian countryside. Here Moat talks to fellow Geordie, Paul Gascoigne before confronting his estranged father and being consoled by a doting grandmother. It is all unreal, but it helps him unearth the truth of his nature. There is only one conclusion. Justice takes a back seat while cause and effect – action and reaction – take centre stage.

At the time, Moat was famously labelled a ‘callous murderer… end of story’. Which is arguably the case. This play appears to challenge that assumption, but Icke’s writing is as ambiguous as the history as he tries to dig deeper. But there is no avoiding the fact that Moat was a big, strong man who used violence against those who were weaker than him. He lied, he lacked control, and he tried to justify his actions that ruined and ended lives. It is not a good story. However, Icke turns it into a breath-taking piece of theatre. We might wonder why he chose to do so, but we are enthralled and disturbed by the experience, and the performances will stick in our minds for quite a while. A gripping production. End of story.

MANHUNT

Royal Court

Reviewed on 8th April 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

A GOOD HOUSE | ★★★★ | January 2025
THE BOUNDS | ★★★ | June 2024
LIE LOW | ★★★★ | May 2024
BLUETS | ★★★ | May 2024
GUNTER | ★★★★ | April 2024
COWBOIS | ★★★★★ | January 2024
MATES IN CHELSEA | ★★★ | November 2023
CUCKOO | ★★½ | July 2023
BLACK SUPERHERO | ★★★★ | March 2023
FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★★ | April 2022

MANHUNT

MANHUNT

MANHUNT

🎭 A TOP SHOW IN MAY 2024 🎭

PEOPLE, PLACES & THINGS

★★★★★

Trafalgar Theatre

PEOPLE, PLACES & THINGS at the Trafalgar Theatre

★★★★★

“a gripping performance that shoots up right into our bloodstream”

In Duncan Macmillan’s unsettling play, “People, Places and Things”, we are taken headlong into the mind of an addict in forensic detail. Without the need of a surgeon’s eye glass or scalpel we witness the outer layers being peeled back by the incisive dialogue, the razor-sharp acting. But also Jeremy Herrin’s staging which is inseparable from Bunny Christie’s set design that pulses throughout to the distorted and fractured rhythms of the protagonist’s identity. Identities even, whether they are true or false. We are never sure, and neither is she. How can you lie about who or what you are when you believe there is no truth to begin with?

‘She’ is Nina, drunkenly murdering Chekhov’s iconic dialogue. But then she is Emma, taking a line of cocaine before reluctantly checking into rehab. Then again, she might not even be Emma. One thing we are certain of, though, is the sheer, brutal brilliance of Denise Gough’s portrayal of this complex and compelling character. We cannot escape her, trapped as she is in Christie’s white tiled set with its hidden doors and camouflaged ventilation grids that allow little breathing space. It bursts into chaotic crashes of techno nightlife before melting back into the mundane sobriety of a rehab clinic. Everything is an extension of her mind, even the people.

 

 

A running gag is the fact that Emma’s therapist and doctor are the spitting image of her mother. Sinéad Cusack gives a stunning performance in all three roles including the mother, highlighting the contrasts and the similarities of each character. The therapist’s ‘cruel-to-be-kind’ approach offset by the mother’s bitter, beaten, and threadbare love for a daughter she thinks doesn’t deserve it. Similarly, Kevin McMonagle doubles as a crazed rehab patient, re-emerging as Emma’s father in Act Two. There is no moralising here. Just a bare dissection of grief in the wake of a dead son and brother.

The fall out of addiction is the core of the piece, and we see it through Emma’s eyes. Macmillan offers no judgement whatsoever as each aspect is picked apart. Gough takes us on an authentic journey through the milestones of denial, anger, anxiety, paranoia, truculence, withdrawal. A personality shattered into many shards, none of them trustworthy or trusting. Nightmares unfold before her eyes as Emma emerges in multiple forms, crawling from the walls, out of the bed, twitching and spinning around her until you can’t really tell which one is the real Emma. James Farncombe’s lighting plunges us into Emma’s drug-fuelled blackouts with a ferociousness matched by Tom Gibbons’ soundscape.

Mercifully there is hope. Malachi Kirby, as fellow user Mark, describes himself as a ’scream in search of a mouth’ but ends up working at the clinic as a volunteer. He has more than a second sight. All knowing, he helps pull the truth from Emma as she eventually tries to ‘come clean’ – in all senses of the word. Not everybody is so lucky. We learn how profoundly difficult it is for the addict to avoid the people, places and things that can, at any time, trigger a relapse. The emotional confrontations are frighteningly true to life and at times devastating. Yet the miracle is that there is still plenty of room for humour, and the central theme of addiction steps back once in a while to let these multi-layered personalities fill the stage. There is a humanity in all the performances that transcends the subject matter. Yet it is always there, as a grim and palpitating pulse. And at its heart is Gough – in a gripping performance that shoots up right into our bloodstream. The play is truly addictive.

 


PEOPLE, PLACES & THINGS at the Trafalgar Theatre

Reviewed on 15th May 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

JERSEY BOYS | ★★★★ | August 2021

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