Tag Archives: Trevor Fox

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

The Ocean at the end of the Lane

The Ocean At The End Of The Lane

★★★★★

Noël Coward Theatre

THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE at the Noël Coward Theatre

★★★★★

The Ocean at the end of the Lane

“In short it is simply captivating”

The past doesn’t feel far away. We all have moments when we are convinced of that. That it’s just a short walk away, waiting at the end of the lane for us. Neil Gaiman’s uncharacteristically emotional 2013 novel is a story about the past, about what happens when we try to follow that lane. A voyage of discovery. And of re-discovery. Finding memories that we had chosen to forget and discarding false ones we had held onto. With Gaiman, of course, this path is littered with nightmares, but also with moments of beauty and aching sadness, that are all thrillingly brought to life in Katy Rudd’s stage production, adapted by Joel Horwood.

Nearly every discipline is used to create this masterpiece of theatre. One in which the practical and technical realities of design, light, sound, puppetry, choreography all assemble to concoct an other-worldly realm of the imagination, which draws us right in. Even in a West End, proscenium arched theatre there is no divide between stage and auditorium; between fantasy and reality. The story also blurs the lines between fairy-tale and horror flick, fable and comic strip. In short it is simply captivating. There is nothing else simple about it though.

Revisiting his childhood home, an unnamed man finds himself at an old farmhouse where he used to play and is transported back to his twelve-year-old self. To say that we return to the present at the climax is no spoiler; it is what lies between the bookends that I shall endeavour to keep under wraps, perhaps unnecessarily. I seem to be in the minority by coming to the show for the first time. Four years on from its premiere at the National, followed by a hiatus during the pandemic and then its belated transfer to the Duke of York’s Theatre; the return to the West End marks a repeat viewing for many people. And it is easy to see why.

Trevor Fox begins the narration before he is led back in time, where Fox also plays the dad to his younger self – known simply as Boy (Keir Ogilvy). Along with Boy’s sister – called Sis of course – the family unit is brittle. Are these memories of a happy childhood, or a lonely, miserable one? Is his father a bully or just grieving over the recent death of his mother? Whichever, Boy finds solace by escaping outside whenever possible where he meets Lettie (Millie Hikasa), a girl his own age who takes him back to her family’s farmhouse which borders a pond that Lettie refers to as the ocean. The ensuing adventures are triggered by a mix of personal tragedy and a belief in the make-believe. Cue the wicked stepmother figure, the call to arms, crossing the threshold, the monsters, the road back; pretty much all twelve steps of the ‘Hero’s Journey’. Except there is no ‘one hero’. And there is no one cast member who stands out – such is the brilliance of the performances.

“We are kept on the edge of our seats throughout”

Ogilvy’s ‘Boy’ has an innocent eccentricity offset by Hikasa’s more knowledgeable but equally eccentric Lettie. A gorgeous chemistry is struck between the two, glued together with hope and trust. Meanwhile, back at home, the sibling rivalry is stunningly and comically brought out thanks to the shining performance of Laurie Ogden as Sis. Charlie Brooks, as Ursula the witch-like new girlfriend of Dad, is a frightening presence. Sweet on the outside but barely concealing the bitter hard centre of menace. Kemi-Bo Jacobs and Finty Williams are the young Mrs Hempstock and Old Mrs Hempstock respectively – Lettie’s mother and grandmother. While we wonder whether the characters’ supernatural powers are real or not, there is no questioning the natural power of the performances.

The production could be described as magical realism. The stakes are high, the drama heightened. We are kept on the edge of our seats throughout. Ian Dickinson’s soundscape – with Jherek Bischoff’s high-powered music – is unsettling and thrilling, while Paule Constable’s lighting is just as atmospheric, moody and magical. Doors move, furniture floats in and out, and gnarled woodland flexes and pulses on Fly Davis’ set which is routinely transformed by a sinister ensemble in perfect time to Steven Hoggett’s inspired movement. The childhood fear, that we may have forgotten in adulthood, is scaringly reignited by Samuel Wyer’s puppets (for ‘puppet’ – read ‘monster’).

The finale is strikingly moving, especially having arrived there through the terror’s that are imagined and real. The stuff of nightmares are mirrored in the genuine feelings of grief, bereavement and the need to survive. Home truths are delivered to the heart with piercing accuracy. Memory lane is lined with thorns. Nothing really looks like what it is, and there is no such thing as a true memory. I partly disagree. This production will remain a true memory for a long while. Incredible – in every sense of the word.

 


THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE at the Noël Coward Theatre

Reviewed on 11th October 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Brinkhoff-Moegenburg


 

 

 

Recently reviewed at this venue:

The Great British Bake Off Musical | ★★★ | March 2023

The Ocean At The End Of The Lane

The Ocean At The End Of The Lane

Click here to read all our latest reviews