The Changeling Review

Southwark Playhouse – until 28 October 2023

Reviewed by Claire Roderick

4****

Blood, lust, brutality and lots of balloons – it must be a Lazarus production.

Lazarus Theatre’s track record in reimagining classic plays is second to none, and Ricky Dukes’ adaptation of Thomas Middleton and William Rowley’s dark tragedy is another marvel of modernisation.

When Alsemero (Mylo McDonald) spots Beatrice Joanna (Colette O’Rourke) in church, it’s love/lust at first sight. Unfortunately, her mother Vermandera (Emma Wilkinson Wright) has promised her to Alonzo (Alex Bird). After meeting clandestinely and hearing of Alsemero’s willingness to duel for her hand, Beatrice knows that she must have Alonzo killed if she is to have a life with Alsemero. Enter De Flores (Jamie O’Neill), her mother’s servant who is obsessed with Beatrice. Beatrice’s promises of even more reward to come after the deed are misconstrued in De Flores’ twisted love, and he expects sex with Beatrice as his ultimate reward. Trapped, Beatrice does as he wishes, leading to further plots and deaths as she realises Alsemero’s sweet and trusting nature doesn’t stretch to tolerating a wife who is not a virgin. Dukes cuts the comic subplot set in an asylum, never allowing the momentum to flag of Beatrice and DeFlores’ tortuous descent into despair and madness. Instead, the wonderful Mikko Juan, Kiera Murray and Hamish Somers represent the madhouse as Greek chorus/house band The Patients with Bobby Locke’s songs riffing on dialogue to lighten the mood and ridicule the choices made in passion by the characters.

The exceptional cast portray their characters with passion: Colette O’Rourke is deliciously two-faced manipulating to get what she wants, and positively jangles with nerves as Bearice’s paranoia and terror of being caught overwhelm her. Jamie O’Neill’s De Flores is the perfect foil – he too knows what he wants and will stop at nothing to get it, although O’Neill gives him the sardonic aura of a man with nothing to lose. Mylo McDonald is a wonderful Alsemero – seemingly noble and loyal, but underneath burning with rage at the suspicion that his wife is not what she seems. Henrietta Rhodes is a hoot as poor sweet Diaphanta, impish and open about her desires in stark contrast to Beatrice.

Like most plays of the time, the struggle for power is at the centre, whether it be the power of noblemen, parents, husbands, the mystical power of virginity or the battle between passion and reason. Sorcha Corcoran’s boardroom table set and Alice Neale’s power dressing costumes establish this world quickly – everyone is not as they seem beneath the sleek lines of their suits – and as the ordered world of the castle crumbles in the latter part of the play, the characters are left more exposed literally and emotionally. At first, the cast are fairly static, with asides delivered by twisting in their chairs, but as the play progresses, there is increasing ensemble movement and the gloriously atmospheric lighting (Stuart Glover) and sound (Sam Glossop) design transport the table from dank tunnels to bedchambers to fiery conflagration. The deaths are stylised but still raw and brutal, with a section of the auditorium designated “the splash zone” as fake blood splatters. Once dead, the character is given a black helium balloon and left to haunt the stage, watching on blankly as the living characters plot and fight. Alonzo dies before the interval, so Alex Bird sits mournfully as the audience file past him, adding a frisson of guilt to that interval rosé.

As The Patients serenade the groom and his virgin bride, giant pink balloons are thrown around the set and audience – a symbolic frolic before things get even weirder. The ensemble is always watching like hawks if they are not in a scene, reminding us of the claustrophobic atmosphere and expectations of the castle. There are so many fabulous ideas bouncing around in this production of stunning visuals and movement that it does feel like a brilliant madhouse at times. But Dukes never chooses style over substance – the dialogue is always clear and the insane plot never gets obscured while quieter, stiller moments are given as much weight as the set pieces.

Another stunning show from Lazarus – The Changeling will leave you exhausted, strangely exhilarated and slightly worried about how much you enjoyed the carnage