Tess by Ockham's Razor NNF 2024

One of the great privileges of reviewing is that you can go into a show ignorant of its content, the joint pedigree of the N&N festival and the Theatre Royal being sufficient to seduce me into attending. Without knowing very much about how, or even why, a Thomas Hardy novel was being adapted by Ockham's Razor, I came to the theatre in ignorance, only to then settle down to read the excellent programme notes with, to be frank, a mounting dread. Why, posited artistic director Charlotte Mooney, would we want to make a circus adaptation of Tess of the D'Urbervilles? Why indeed, I thought to myself, shuffling uneasily in my seat, only minutes before witnessing what sounded like a very special kind of terrible idea. I can only say that circuses appear to have changed a fair bit since I was a lad. What I ended up witnessing was far and away the best thing I've seen at the festival - and I've seen a lot - utterly demolishing my previous idea of what is meant by circus, and what I thought could be achieved with the skills involved.

There have been endless adaptations of Hardy's grim tale of a 'pure' woman sinned against, to the extent that it would be hard to imagine anything new or worthwhile being performed. What Ockhams's Razor has done, however, and done brilliantly, is taken the emotional heart of the novel and expressed it physically. Hanora Kamen was on hand throughout, guiding us through the story with just enough words to help us understand the narrative, while Lila Naruse embodied Tess physically. In less able hands, this could have been a cumbersome device, but in the hands of director Alex Harvey it made perfect sense, cleverly distinguishing Tess's sanguine acceptance of horrific events, while simultaneously allowing the horror to play out on stage.

There were circus skills on show, but rather than grandstanding acrobatics, what we saw first and foremost, were action and movement in service to the text. Sit back and think about it and the audience got to see extraordinary feats of balance, control and gymnastics, but for the most part it was all about highlighting and reflecting upon the character's motives and moods. It was telling that the audience rarely applauded, as one might expect, particularly dexterous set pieces. Not I am convinced, through indifference, but rather that they were so caught up in the drama, that it was easy to forget that the telling of that drama involved doing something pretty amazing. When Joshua Frazer swirled around the stage within a giant hoop he demonstrated great skill, but the significance of the spell weaved by Alec D'Urberville was impossible to miss. When Tess finally, begrudgingly stepped into the loop’s circumference the spell was cast, and when - with immaculate timing - it came to rest, we knew she was done for.

There were countless moments like this. Victoria Skillen's precarious balancing act standing in for John Durbeyfield's drunkenness. The extraordinary contortions of Nat Whittingham representing Angel Clare's tortured wedding night revelation. The ensemble cast clambering over Angel as a nod towards precocious infatuation. Most heart-breaking of all, Lika Naruse's deft aerial rope work mirroring rope of a very different kind.

Tina Bicat's immaculate, yet simple, set and costume design, Daniel Denton's hallucinogenic video projections and Holly Khan's unobtrusive but effective sound design, all added to the melancholy of the production, albeit one leavened with occasional flashes of unexpected humour. It all added up to a performance that was somehow both a stunning spectacle and an intimate re-examination of a classic text. Time will tell if this will prove the highlight of my festival as there are yet more treats to enjoy, but it will take an awful lot to even come close to the brilliance of this production.