Theatre Royal. Nottingham – until 19th September 2026
Reviewed by Lauren Fordham
4****
‘The Silence of the Lambs’ is a book written by Thomas Harris in 1988 but it imprinted itself permanently on the public consciousness in the multi-award-winning 1991 film. Directed by Jonathan Demme, it starred Anthony Hopkins, as imprisoned brilliant psychiatrist and also cannibalistic serial killer Dr Hannibal Lecter, and Jodie Foster as Clarice Starling, a trainee FBI agent who has been tasked with eliciting information from Lecter about a serial killer, ‘Buffalo Bill’ that the FBI are trying to catch. However, Lecter will only give information about ‘Buffalo Bill’ on a quid pro quo basis, the condition being that Starling first shares her childhood traumas with him.
Now, for the first time, writer Gina Gionfriddo has adapted the story for the stage.
John Partridge plays Lecter, and he does so with a seductive suavity in both voice and manner that is evocative of an abusive husband, drawing Starling in with silky-voiced sophistry, until she angers him and he snaps, with the sudden violence of a camouflaged saltwater crocodile. This approach is a shrewd strategy since the distance of the audience means that he cannot rely, and sensibly does not seek to replicate, Hopkins’ captivating, clear-eyed close-ups.
Mollie Gallagher handles her professional theatre debut as deftly Starling does her weapon in the shooting range, neither missing a single mark throughout the show. Her Starling is sensitive and maternal as well as a shrewd sharpshooter, illustrated by the way she promises the man who finds Frederica Bimmel’s body that she will treat her with dignity. Here I must pay tribute to Carolyn Downing’s sound design, because the muted wailing effects when Bimmel’s body is turned both evoke a bloodcurdling echo of the way she was killed and also imply a trapped spirit still suffering, an idea which is positively spine-chilling.
Sam Jackson’s murderer Jame Gumb (nicknamed ‘Buffalo Bill’ by the press because he flays his victims, using their skin to make clothing intended for his dead mother) is almost pitiful as he watches his mother’s beauty pageant videos (projections powerfully designed by George Reeve). He also deliberately evokes pity outside the nightclub when he puts his arm in a sling and asks women to help him get home, a scarily successful deception in life as well as art by real serial killers like Ted Bundy.
I’m sure he would have been petrifying as he paced the floor above the pit where he incarcerated his victims, but unfortunately due to the overhang of the stage where I was seated, the upper level was impossible to see, and this greatly reduced the impact he had on me. Likewise, Jo Mousley’s attempt as Senator Ruth Martin to implore Gumb to release her daughter, the feisty Catherine (Lottie Amor) sounded statesmanlike but it was a shame that I couldn’t see her.
This is an unfortunate, unavoidable clash of production design with accident – the lift providing access to the ideal seats for full-time wheelchair users is currently broken, so our view is currently restricted by the overhang. I don’t seek to attribute blame as these things often cannot be helped and I would not discourage full-time wheelchair users from seeing the show in any way, and thank staff for keeping me informed, but other venues might offer unrestricted views.
Michael Taylor’s set design is both naturalistic, effective and evocative – the prison catwalk and staircase does double duty representing both Starling’s path to interview Lecter and also Jame Gumb/Buffalo Bill’s house. Lecter’s cell is suitably claustrophobic and transparent, reflecting his total lack of privacy and the ability of prison staff to surveillance him 24/7, but also seemed over-cluttered, with paintings constructed with items like pens which he isn’t allowed to have. Taylor made an inspired decision to have Lecter’s cell rotate to reveal Jame Gumb/Buffalo Bill’s house, subtly reminding the audience that although Lecter is helping Clarice in Gumb’s case, neither she nor the audience should be lulled into a false sense of security, Lecter is still just as dangerous a killer as Gumb is, and that Lecter is always working on his own escape plan, even when he is not visible onstage.
Howard Hudson’s lighting design is captivating and adds much to the drama of the piece, particularly during Lecter’s escape. I also appreciated the arresting sounds and lights of Starling’s photography during the autopsy scenes. I did think that the dialogue around the moth in the corpse’s throat could have been enhanced with a projection allowing the audience to see it, but I appreciate that this may have been a deliberate (and commendable) choice so as not to be seen to be copying the iconic imagery of the 1991 film.
This unique and trailblazing stage production is just as captivating and chilling as the iconic film, in different ways. Grab a glass of Chianti, and enjoy an interpretation that will stay with you long after the applause (and maybe the lambs, Clarice?) has gone silent.










