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“The Pitchfork Disney” at the King’s Head Theatre

Let’s celebrate that Lidless Theatre, which had great success with Philip Ridley’s Leaves of Glass last year, provides the chance to see this 1991 work from the incomparable playwright. The early piece is far from his best work. But Ridley’s writing is so exciting that this story of an encounter between troubled siblings and an odd duo who give the play its title is wild, unforgettable, theatre.

The start is strong. Performed expertly by Ned Costello and Elizabeth Connick, Presley and Haley are twin siblings who are heavily medicated and living as hermits, their lives shaped by routine and fantasy. They repeat and invent stories that defy logic and, like their characters, are full of ambiguity and emotion.

The chance arrival of Cosmo Disney and his sidekick Pitchfork (who is tricky to discuss without spoilers) upsets the scenario less than might be expected – they are an even stranger pair. Pitchfork, played by William Robinson, is a compelling (and dangerous) figure who invokes repulsion rather than magic or charisma. There’s a wonderful variety of abjection, but it is all down to earth.

This is a valid interpretation. Horror is the key and, of course, there is banality in evil. But arguably, director Max Harrison embraces the play’s controversial reputation too forcefully. Discomfort and shock are only part of the play. The stories recounted should – sometimes – offer succour. Disney’s bleak view of human nature might , if not oppose, contrast with the siblings.

A similar position is taken with the tricky comedy in the play. With Ridley, laughs are always barbed – it’s deliberate that not everyone in the audience joins in – but here they are also broad. Too much deadpan delivery is a mistake, and it blunts the script.

Both reservations are subjective. Harrison has his ideas for the play and, if questionable, that vision is consistent, considered and thorough. The performances are committed and the delivery technically accomplished. But I think there’s something missing – a conflict between stories that structure and those that shock. Disney and Pitchfork are showmen and of the moment. The twin’s tales are private and endure. And at least one thing Ridley is asking is which kind of story is more frightening.

Until 4 October 2025

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photos by Charles Flint

2023

“Leaves of Glass” at the Park Theatre

This welcome revival, from Lidless Theatre, of Philip Ridley’s 2007 play confirms the author as a consistently brilliant playwright. The subject matter includes child abuse and depression – not easy to watch – but what chills and inspires is how Ridley balances accusations, denials and shifting stories while showing how trauma lives on, affecting lives and shaping futures.

Ridley’s is a harsh look at cruel subjects. A sense of paranoia, woven into every line, reflects how the character Steven’s life falls apart: his wife and mother seem against him, while his troubled younger brother makes cryptic demands about confessing… something. Ridley reveals plot as well as any thriller, and director Max Harrison takes his lead – the show is gripping.

The script boasts vivid images: this is a lucid world of violence, vermin and the unexplained. All the unsettling tropes are given time, as they should be – the language is astonishing. Nonetheless, the play is more of a conventional domestic drama than many Ridley offerings – a family putting on a show is clear. Harrison’s incisive approach is further confirmed with the piece’s black humour when the brothers fight or their mum lays down the law.

All the performers clearly admire the script and share Harrison’s vision. Katie Buchholz highlights the strength of her character, Debbie, who is Steven’s wife, adding to the play’s tension. Kacey Ainworth, as the boys’ mother, has strong comedy skills, while the way she ages from one scene to the next at the end of the play left me awe-struck.

Leaves-of-Glass-at-the-Park-Theatre
Joseph Potter

Joseph Potter takes the role of younger brother Barry, an alcoholic begging and threatening to unearth a past that has ruined his life, balancing sympathy and threat. As his performance in a previous play, Poltergeist, testifies, Potter is an expert at Ridley. He brings a manic energy that matches the writing marvellously.

Taking the lead is Ned Costello in the hugely demanding role of Steven. Understatement is the key to this magnificent performance – Steven’s cool demeanour can be funny but is the first step in our starting to suspect him. As questions mount, Costello shows cracks. It is remarkable that the character can be both sinister and seem weak. At the play’s powerful conclusion, Costello is deeply disturbing.

While scenes with family members are electric, Ridley is a master of the monologue (you can still check out a lockdown highlight – a whole series of fantastic shorts). Steven’s soliloquies are exquisite, brimming with ideas and originality, balancing simple story telling with complex themes. Showing Ridley’s skills with such steely precision secures a five-star rating: an excellent play and production.

Until 3 June 2023

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Mark Senior

2021

“Tender Napalm” at the King’s Head Theatre

With a series of exciting monologues last year, prolific playwright Philip Ridley had a good lockdown. But I’m not alone in wanting Ridley’s work back on stage. This expert revival of a real gem is a thrilling treat.

Tender Napalm is a romance, told with startling originality. The memories and fantasies of a couple swing from love to hate. The stories they concoct between them are gripping – passionate and violent.

Tales you’d “hardly believe” feature unicorns, UFOs and a common or garden tsunami! In suggesting spontaneity, while delivering Ridley’s poetic lines, performers Adeline Waby and Jaz Hutchins are superb.

Kit Hinchcliffe’s minimal design is a perfect blank canvas for colourful displays of imagination. A potentially static piece, Sam Angell’s bold work as movement director is strong. The occasionally childlike movements are particularly unsettling.

What is poisoning the relationship we watch, the motive for a kind of therapeutic exercise, is surely the death of a child. Ridley isn’t explicit: emotions, like the scenarios, are fluid. But whatever is wrong creates increasing tension.

Yet tenderness is present too. It’s in allowing the care between the characters to show that Hutchins and Waby excel. A change of pace towards the end of the piece is exquisitely handled.

Director Max Harrison has a thorough appreciation of Ridley’s brilliant text. Best of all, Harrison balances a peculiar dark humour with Ridley’s astonishing imagination. The “universe of dreams” this production provides a view of is, in all senses of the word, fantastic.

Until 20 November 2021

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photo by Mark Senior