Set in a present that could be any time, on a remote Scottish farm that could as easily be in the American midwest, Rob Drummond’s new play feels like a 19th-century melodrama filtered through a noir thriller sensibility, spiced with a dash of Hammer horror. The drama involves: a family shattered by a past murder, a returning killer, a sick child, ancient harvest myths and rituals; out of these come possibilities of a redemptive act and potential for new life.
It’s a combustible mix. Orla O’Loughlin’s direction, however, serves it up with a cool detachment that chills these ingredients to the max. The acting style is precise and controlled; characters seldom make eye contact; silences among them say as much as their words. Through such means, a space is opened up between emotions and situation that allows the moral choices faced by the characters to stand starkly before the audience. Set, lights and music – seemingly simple yet surprising – combine to amplify the volumes of the themes and balance atmospheres ranging along a scale from cheery domestic to far-out eerie (Fred Meller, Simon Wilkinson and Michael John McCarthy, respectively).
There is much here to admire, but the overall falls just short of the sum of its parts. Blythe Duff (matriarch), Andrew Rothney (prisoner), John Michie (prisoner’s minder), Sarah Miele (sick child) and Frances Thorburn (relative and wild card) deliver strong, convincing performances, but the controlled playing style that deliberately makes their characters hard to read also masks the internal tensions that would make the drama of their choices emotionally engrossing. Drummond’s script drip-feeds information through terse dialogue – tantalising yet not quite teasing – but long silences give us time to spot the joins in his construction. Ultimately, this co-production between the Tron and Edinburgh’s Traverse theatre feels too cool to touch.
