TARANTULA
Arcola Theatre
β β β β
“a magnificent and terrible thing to watch”
Darkness descends into the carefree life of teenager Toni with such unexpected force that breath drains from her lungs. Then ours. Ever after in this heart-wrecking drama, we struggle to regain balance.
Because, by the time this trauma strikes, young Toni has become our friend. Theoretically, the teen β self-deprecating, romantic, smart β occupies the theatre space alone for 90 minutes, but such is her boundless joy at the prospect of a budding romance that we quickly become her BFFs. What should I wear? What about this? Or this? What should I say? Arenβt his eyelashes just the loveliest?
The mechanics of a crush are awkward so sheβs eager to crowdsource some insight.
The romance is almost too perfect as first loves must be. They plan a life together over their first shared milkshake. She will be a writer, he will take pictures. They hold hands. Brush arms. The individual kisses merge into one swelling super-kissβ¦
But the title of the play is Tarantula. The playwright is master weaver Philip Ridley. Nothing can be as straightforwardly simple as snogging by moonlight.
Somethingβs coming. Darkness is coming. The clue is in the moments of fugue state when Toni mentions her prospectβs name β Michael. Is she lovestruck? Or something-else-struck?
We soon find out.
You cannot take your eyes off Georgie Henley, who plays Toni. She wonβt let you. As the naive schoolgirl, she is mercurial and giddy and all the things a girl can and should be. She dares you not to delight in her. Later, that same thrill is transmuted by her experience into something forced and manic. She is the same but different. The same but shrill. She challenges you to spot the artifice of her carefully constructed veneer of uber-glee.
Under Wiebke Greenβs direction, the trauma that visits Toni is physical. It stalks her endlessly and then β in a quite astonishing and visceral way β it occupies her. She struggles to breathe. She is paralysed. She is felled. She remembers.
This parasitical body snatcher is a composite of unresolved pain and guilt and grief. Because one version of Toni died that day β the bright Oxford-bound lover of books and do-gooding school clubs β and this uncanny valley version took her place. Whatβs left is a too-keen gym bunny who urgently wants to be the hero of everybodyβs tale.
To achieve this transformation, Ridleyβs script is full of character, heart and keen detail. His lusty appetite for story, the darker the better, help to create a topical slice of gothic horror lightened by moments of utmost tenderness. It is perhaps 10 minutes too long, especially in the later stages, but accomplished, nevertheless.
For all the cleverness, laughter and texture in the script, it is the sinister contortions of Georgie Henley that will stick in the memory. Especially that manic dead-eyed smile, reminiscent of the innocent we met at the start of the evening but now fixed and crazed as Toni is compelled to make stand after stand against the dark tyranny of her memories.
This is a story about second chances when second chances are the last resort. To illustrate this, Georgie Henley destroys us with the scale of her loss. Her performance is courageous and raw. It is a magnificent and terrible thing to watch.
TARANTULA
Arcola Theatre
Reviewed on 10th January 2025
by Giles Broadbent
Photography by Kate Hockenhull
Previously reviewed at this venue:
HOLD ON TO YOUR BUTTS | β β β β | December 2024
DISTANT MEMORIES OF THE NEAR FUTURE | β β β | November 2024
THE BAND BACK TOGETHER | β β β β | September 2024
MR PUNCH AT THE OPERA | β β β | August 2024
FABULOUS CREATURES | β β β | May 2024
THE BOOK OF GRACE | β β β β β | May 2024
LIFE WITH OSCAR | β β β | April 2024
WHEN YOU PASS OVER MY TOMB | β β β β β | February 2024
SPUTNIK SWEETHEART | β β β | October 2023
GENTLEMEN | β β β β | October 2023
TARANTULA
TARANTULA
TARANTULA
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