Midnight at the Rue Morgue is of that theatrical ilk whereby you will be thoroughly confused within the first five minutes, and whether this confusion is resolved by the time you leave is almost entirely dependent on how prepared you are as an audience member to receive what the cast attempts to offer. They do not deliver a plot, not in the conventional sense; rather they allow a potential plot to crystallise out of a series of explorations of illness and madness. The audience remains standing throughout, free to move throughout the space, and the more you allow yourself to do so (perhaps not a show for the easily self-conscious) the more rewarding your stay at the ‘Rueful Morgana’ will be.
The ‘Rueful Morgana’ comprises four tables in four corners of the BT studio – four clear zones for each of the protagonists. The overall space is commanded by the in-house mesmerist (Alice Young). Young’s ability to physically manipulate and interact with the audience is excellent – crucially, she is able both to focus the audience’s attention onto certain characters and to draw focus to herself as necessary, without resorting to overwrought gestures or noises.
My main criticism of the piece is, however, the frequency with which three of the four characters were guilty of such things – in particular the tarot card reader (Alex Wilson) whose portrayal of madness was simply overcooked, flinging his cards all over the floor at regular intervals and whirling dervish-like around the room for no discernible reason. Although there is usually one character intended as the main focus, there is constant action in all corners – at its best, this creates the thrill of having an individual experience (witnessing, for example, the ‘suicide’ of the ventriloquist (Filip Ferdinand Falk Hartelius) with a joke pistol whilst most of the audience watched the Burlesque routine) but at its worst is simply a distraction when characters with little to do resort to miscellaneous ‘mad’ behaviour with little clear intent.
By far the most intriguing character in the room is Dr. Egaeus Fowler, portrayed by Rosie Polyn. Such is the nature of the piece that Polyn’s quietly spoken Doctor risks becoming lost amidst the frenetic action of the rest of the cast, but of course as an audience member you are totally at liberty to ignore their more wantonly theatrical antics and spend time instead watching the Doctor at work. Polyn’s skill at interaction was such that there was no sense of boundary between actor and audience – at one point she offered me a model of a jaw and tiny magnifying glass, and her quasi-religious fervour as she explained it was ‘not a thing to admire, but to analyse’ was chillingly believable.
Whereas looking into the eyes of some actors occasionally revealed nervousness at close proximity or the self-consciousness of interaction, hers were always alive and bright with the story of her character. Hers was a doctor dedicated to the work, darkly thrilled by the impulse to explore and discover, eager to share and yet disgusted by the compulsion. Despite the sobbing and wailing in which many of the other characters engaged, hers was perhaps the most believably ‘mad’.
In order to make the most of all that Midnight at the Rue Morgue has to offer, you have to go in prepared to actively engage with it – to explore the space, interact with the characters and their props, to attempt to discover what’s going on. If you simply watch the action as an observer, you will almost certainly leave the theatre clueless as to the show’s aims, main themes, even its basic plot. For many I imagine this could be perceived as a great flaw, but once you realise that you are totally at liberty to trawl through the tarot cards, shuffle through the doctor’s notes and help him dust his skeleton it can become a thoroughly immersive and fascinating experience. Grab the proverbial bull by its horns (or the raven by its wings, more appropriately) and you begin to see the method behind the madness. Judging by the reception of the piece by large parties and individuals, I actually strongly recommend you sneak off to this one on your own, all the better to lose yourself and be transported. Go on, I dare you.
3.5 STARS
