★★★

“the innate awkwardness of humdrum humanity is finely portrayed”

Apparently, there are five Possum Trots in the United States. In Alabama, Kentucky, Missouri, Texas and Virginia. All of them desolate backwaters – what are referred to as an ‘unincorporated area’, which basically means that they are not really legally recognised as existing. In fact, all that is left of the one in Missouri is a one-room school, a house and a closed down general store. A ghost town, no less. The “Possum Trot” in which Kathy Rucker’s new play is set is fictional, but its title has a ring of truth about it, which is reflected in the natural and authentic depiction of the handful of oddballs that are clinging on to keep their community alive. On top of this, regular tornados further threaten to wipe the town completely off the map.

Rucker’s play explores the challenges encountered by one family as it faces the collapse of the farming community, the exodus of its population and the climate disasters raining down like military attacks, forcing the people to scuttle down to their basement on an almost daily basis. They’re a stoic lot, and humour fuels their determination to carry on. Rucker is focusing on the unpretentious simplicity of everyday life; and what we witness in the short hour-and-a-quarter is the eye of the storm. Aside from a couple of upturned chairs (which happens in blackout) “Possum Trot” is a gentle affair. Almost inconsequential. Like the town itself, it doesn’t appear to be going anywhere.

Maxine (Sarah Berger) runs the fort. Or rather, she runs the only diner in town. Reuben Speed’s set is the real thing. Brilliantly authentic, it transforms the whole space into Maxine’s diner come café come bar come local hub. Berger adds to the realism as she shuffles on in the dismal dawn’s early light to open up for the day, wearing her stoicism like a tattered apron. We think we are in the latter part of the twentieth century until Maxine’s extended family wander in wielding mobile phones and Instagram stories. In particular Neve Francis’ sprightly hypochondriac Billie – the granddaughter whose dream of escaping to art college is about to be realised, despite a very significant personal crisis that pops up – which is never really explored satisfactorily. The middle generation come in the form of chalk and cheese couple, Jeremiah (Nikolas Salmon) and Pru (Dani Arlington). Salmon represents the sense of tradition, desperate to live up to his father’s name, while Arlington’s Pru tries to drag him into the present and get him to sell up the farm. If the dwindling economy doesn’t soon kill off the cattle, the weather will. A comic moment involves the rescuing of a poor cow who finds itself on the roof after a particularly bad Kansas-like gale.

In the family’s midst is village local, Duane (Todd Boyce) and his stream of bad dad-jokes which repeatedly misfire, deliberately failing to puncture the chaotic dramas unfolding within the close-knit family. Scott Le Crass respectfully directs by playing down the drama, avoiding heightened histrionics. These are ordinary people after all, and the innate awkwardness of humdrum humanity is finely portrayed. It starts with a wake (Maxine is recently widowed), continues with a celebration (the diner is fifty years old) and ends with a joke (which unfortunately has little to do with the narrative).

Like the landlocked town of Possum Trot itself, Rucker’s play is neither here nor there. Yet there is an appealing, understated charm that does draw you in; like you’re discovering a single episode of a soap opera. We find ourselves wanting more. If only we could scroll through to the back stories, or forward to future instalments. And Hannah Bracegirdle’s country-tinged soundtrack is spot on; from Bruce Springsteen’s opening harmonica of ‘Nebraska’, through to the closing notes of Bob Dylan’s achingly beautiful ‘Shelter from the Storm’. This play won’t necessarily kick up a storm, but its mix of poignancy and humour is quietly soothing, like the muffled roll thunder heard from a safe distance.

DEATH COMES TO PEMBERLEY

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★

“for the most part the characters are gently engaging”

When P D James wrote “Death Comes to Pemberley”, she prefaced the novel with an apology to Jane Austen for ‘involving her beloved Elizabeth in the trauma of a murder investigation’. She surmised that had Austen wished to dwell on such ‘odious subjects’, she would have written the story herself, and ‘done it better’. The general reception to her novel disputed her modest self-criticism, however, and her sequel to ‘Pride and Prejudice’, written in the style of Jane Austen, was a blend of James’ signature crime writing and Austen’s sardonic romance. It wasn’t long before it was adapted for television, but it has taken a few more years for it to reach the stage.

Duncan Abel and Rachel Wagstaff’s adaptation is a remarkably faithful interpretation of the P D James mystery novel. It is the year 1803, and Darcy and Elizabeth have been married for six years and are comfortable in their orderly world on their idyllic estate of Pemberley. On the eve of their annual ball there is a storm. Elizabeth’s younger sister, Lydia, bursts onto the scene screaming blue murder. A corpse is found in the woods, cradled by Lydia’s blood-soaked husband. It appears to be an easily solved whodunnit. It isn’t, of course. That would make for a very short play. And this adaptation – which opened at the Mill at Sonning prior to its current tour – is most certainly on the long side.

It is not an easy story to adapt, yet Abel and Wagstaff do justice to both Jane Austen and P D James with a cast that authentically recreates the characters. There is inevitably an overreliance on exposition which causes the story to drag occasionally, but for the most part the characters are gently engaging. All eyes are bound to be on James Bye, fresh from his television persona as Martin in ‘Eastenders’. But Bye is unrecognisable, sensitively portraying the solid Fitzwilliam Darcy, adding an appealing vulnerability to his haughtiness. Jamie-Rose Duke places Elizabeth Darcy ahead of her time, unafraid to stand up to her husband but unashamed to stand by him too. The couple seem to be the only ones on the side of the prime murder suspect, George Wickham. He’s a dodgy fellow who does himself no favours, portrayed with infectious energy by Sam Woodhams. Woodhams also doubles as the terminally ill Will Bidwell – quite ironic given the role Will plays in the mystery, but I shall give nothing away.

As skeletons come out of the closet, the plot thickens, relationships tangle, intrigues intertwine, and class divides blur. The atmosphere is seldom fully realised, however, and there is little in the way of suspense. And an awful lot of lines are lost among problems of projection (James Bye is an exception, as is Sarah Berger’s matriarchal Lady Catherine de Bourgh). Director Jonathan O’Boyle ably steers the narrative through the woods, but never really breaks from a trot; particularly in the first act. After interval the pace quickens to a canter, but we want to feel as though we are galloping towards the conclusion. A sense of location is often missing too. Mike Robertson’s lighting attempts to lead us from the salons into the woods, but too much overspill leaves us hovering between the two.

Although it obviously helps, you don’t need to be familiar with Jane Austen’s ‘Pride and prejudice’ (or P D James’ sequel) to appreciate the story being told here. There is plenty to hang onto as the strands of the storyline come together and backstories are revealed. But we are hanging on precariously – the hold on our attention lacking the strength to keep us gripped throughout. It could be a wonderful blend of whodunnit and period drama but, despite the commitment of a fine ensemble cast, it is left swinging between the two, not entirely sure which to reach out for.

POSSUM TROT

Theatre at the Tabard

★★★

“the innate awkwardness of humdrum humanity is finely portrayed”

POSSUM TROT

Theatre at the Tabard

Reviewed on 14th November 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Bonnie Britain

Previously reviewed at this venue:

POSSUM TROT

POSSUM TROT

POSSUM TROT

DEATH COMES TO PEMBERLEY

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★

“for the most part the characters are gently engaging”