Director Chris Jones takes on a daunting task with Crave. Sarah Kane’s penultimate play takes place in one act with characters neither explicitly connected nor distinct from each other. To those unfamiliar with Sarah Kane, her brief career and untimely suicide left behind some of the most controversial pieces of theatre of the time. Crave came as Kane’s first non-violent piece of theatre, written with little in the way of stage direction or setting; characters become as unspecific as possible, each with only a letter to denote them.

In the unlikely setting of St Hugh’s newly refurbished bar, low ceilings and dim lighting are enclosed by large pillars and small windows; the small table lamps dotted around the set creating a striking up-lighting effect on the actors’ faces, as jagged shadows exaggerate the sorrow on their faces. The intimacy of the space naturally draws the audience in, and eye contact afforded by the actors with the audience further removes any sense of the fourth wall. These characters are not explicitly connected and their strong use of the middle distance in speech retains the sense that, even when they talk to each other, they remain their own islands of sorrow.

There is sometimes an unfortunate lack of tightness in the script, particularly given that this play demands much well directed bouncing of words and phrases from one character to another. Such aspects of the play that require strong, well-rehearsed conviction, such as the compelling refrain, “Why?”, “What?”, “Why What?”, “What?”, sometimes lack potency. M’s (Olivia Madin) indignant character is well portrayed, however, throwing sardonic glances which belie her situation, exploding in the occasional fit of indignant rage; a welcome contrast to C’s (Rosie Wells) hand-wringing desolation.

Three Stars

Crave is on at St. Hugh’s College Bar, 5th Week, 7.30pm

With impressive performances all round, particularly from Margherita Philipp and Emile Halpin, Carol Churchill’s Vinegar Tom is a bold and powerful feminist perspective of the sixteenth century witch trials in Britain. As hysteria takes hold the women of a small village are, one after another, accused, tortured and executed at the hands of a male witch finder (Halpin) and his all too gleeful assistant. From the outset Churchill’s message, under the direction of Sarah McCready, is made emphatically clear as ‘Man’ (Halpin, in the most stirring of his three roles) declares “I am the Devil” and, after satisfying his own desires leaves a desperate Alice (Philipp), scrambling for his name.

Certainly not for the faint of heart, the production might prove over-confrontational for some. The ‘examinations’ of the witch finder, conducted on bloodstained sheets are frequent, brutal and make for purposefully uncomfortable viewing. The use of pointed sticks as the instruments of this torture serving as an all too blatant reminder of Churchill’s agenda..

George Feld and Aidan Clifford, as ‘Sprenger and Kramer’, authors of The Malleus Maleficarum witch-hunter’s manual, have enjoyable chemistry, and their poetic diatribe provides a little light relief alongside the traumas of the main play. Although, even this is short-lived, as their tone soon sours and they are interrupted by the modern-dress chorus. The chorus themselves effectively dominant the stage during their scenes, working successfully as a unit. 

The male dominant society of the 1500s is made abundantly clear, although I fear the original 1970s preformance, which used choral settings to translate this impression, was perhaps more convincing, and indeed more necessary.

So long as the audience is prepared for what the play is about, and for the message it delivers with every line, they will undoubtedly be impressed. The staging is simple but effective, the direction smart and mature, and the acting is largely striking. I would suggest that a visit be carefully considered, and may not appeal to many. Go to be provoked rather than entertained, for this is a performance of extremes.

Four stars

Vinegar Tom is at the Wadham Moser, 16-20 February, 7.30pm

The Philanthropist opens with a familiar scene. A jittery John (Tom Moyser) is interrogated by his two straight-faced tutors, with a startling conclusion that makes those apocryphal horror stories of the infamous ‘Oxbridge interview’ sound like child’s play. Indeed, there is something playfully close to home about this satirical portrayal of the insular academic life of the pretentious and decadent literary set.

Perhaps this is what turns a script that could potentially have been arcane and difficult – Christopher Hampton’s play being both a self-professed ‘bourgeois comedy’ and a response to a seventeenth century comedy of manners – into a thoroughly enjoyable and accessible play, though no doubt the very quality of performances, writing and comedy also have their roles to play.

If it all sounds a bit serious, it isn’t. This is a play that balances cruel wit and black humour, with prodding satire and situation comedy. Jonathon Swinard is outstanding as the fumbling, socially inept professor of Philology Philip, while Dave Ralf is brilliantly detestable as the gaudy author Braham, though it could be said that his performance is more convincing during his high-flown rambles than his angry outbursts. Sam Buchdahl’s subtle portrayal of the despondent Don is also a highlight. It has to be said though that this is a play that thrives on the dynamics of the group – the banter is fast, fluid and punning – and no one seems to let the side down. Perhaps the staging could have been more imaginative, though the energy of the cast does compensate for this.

Overall, this is a very mature, funny and professional adaptation of a very suave play. Whether your interests lie in sex, scandal or social commentary, his play has it all and is well worth going to see.

Four Stars

The Philanthropist is on at the Burton Taylor Studio, 5th Week, Tuesday to Saturday, 7.30pm

The Aphorist, is a student written and performed play revolving around the deluded, miserable Harry (Matthew Monaghan), his suffocatingly pretentious friend Rudolph (Felix Legge) and Rudolph’s adoring girlfriend Cynthia (Agnes Meath Baker). The play charts the gradual emergence of the repressed feelings of Harry towards both Rudolph and Cynthia through Rudolph’s efforts to bring Harry along to one of his ‘shows’.

The character of Harry, at first glance, seems to invite a somewhat pitying empathy. Both the author and the actor do a fine job in creating a character that oozes resentment and a feeling of bitter under-appreciation. Yet there was a slightly disappointing lack of development. As a result, some of the dialogues later in the play were held back by the somewhat one dimensional nature of both the expression and the character. There are, after all, only so many ways of saying a resentful ‘no’.

While this problem did also feature in the portrayal of the other characters, this is one of the inevitable side effects of roles that are, in many ways, caricatures, and did not matter so much in the less pivotal roles. Other than this, however, the acting was rather good, especially the efforts of Felix Legge as Rudolph.

There may well be flaws in this production, but it is important to bear in mind that this play is the first attempt of a previously untried student writer. There is, after all, much to be commended; the dialogue, for the most part was well crafted, and largely devoid of the clumsy or incongruous lines that one might expect to crop up in a production of this nature. In addition to this, parts of the play are genuinely funny. It may not have had me choking on the floor, and the tendency to pander to the student predilection for incongruous swearing or absurd melodrama may not have been entirely absent, but there is a healthy dose of more subtle and well thought out comedy which is rather rare.

All in all, there is certainly plenty of potential on display here, both in the acting and in the writing, and I look forward to seeing strengths built upon by all members of the production in the final performance.

Three stars

The Aphorist is at the Burton Taylor Studio, 5th week, Tues-Sat, 9.30pm