Arcola Theatre – until 20 October
Reviewed by Claire Roderick
3***
Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway, with its meandering time shifting and interior voices, isn’t an easy option for the stage. Hal Coase’s adaptation plays with this, with the cast beginning the play with a debate about the truth, expectations and unsatisfactory entrances.
The story is set on a day in London between the wars, with society wife Clarissa Dalloway (Clare Perkins) preparing for her party that evening. As she walks through London she reminisces about her youth and her old friends Sally (Clare Lawrence Moody) and Peter (Sean Jackson), Also walking through the park are Septimus (Guy Rhys) and his wife Rezia (Emma D’Arcy). Suffering from mental illness after the war, and hallucinating about his dead friend Evans, Septimus is examined and committed by a doctor who is a guest at Clarissa’s party. The two main characters never meet, but news of Septimus’ suicide deeply affects Clarissa as she interprets it in the context of her own worldview.
The stream of consciousness narrative and the overlapping narratives are handled deftly by director Thomas Bailey, with the cast sharing lines, interrupting each other and using mobile recorders or stylised hand gestures to signal internal thoughts in conversations. It’s all very wistful and gentle, with Guy Rhys’s occasional outbursts as Septimus making an impact. Unfortunately, the character comes across as pitiful rather than sympathetic, and his suicide is unremarkable and forgettable – which may be exactly what Bailey was aiming for to highlight Woolf’s criticism of mental healthcare at that time.
There are some wonderful moments of comedy, most coming from Lawrence Moody as born again Christian Miss Kilman as she voices her adoration for Elizabeth Dalloway and her dislike of Clarissa in energetic asides as she continues her bland conversations. D’Arcy is intense and moving as Rezia, while Perkins floats across the stage as Clarissa, calm and collected, but capturing the innocence and joy of her youth charmingly in the flashback scenes.
The simple set, with a plain wooden frame and a simple rectangle of blue for the sky, later joined by another in sunset hues, keeps the focus on Woolf’s wonderful language, and Tom Stafford’s soundscape evokes the feel of an idealised London. This is an impressive production but, perhaps because of the source material, feels clever rather than emotionally satisfying.