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Jekyll & Hyde

Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

Five stars

Whatever literary purists might say, the poor things, classic fiction has always been up for grabs in terms of reinvention. This is certainly the case with Robert Louis Stevenson’s nineteenth century gothic novella, a short, sharp shocker that over more than a century now has been reimagined in many ways. Gary McNair’s new rendering sees the current master of the solo show shake Stevenson’s yarn to troubling new life in a slow burning monologue that cuts through to the dark heart of the secrets that lurk within us all.

 

Michael Fentiman’s production begins quietly enough, as Forbes Masson returns to the Lyceum stage for the first time in two decades to offer up a disclaimer that ends up framing the show, much as the sudden snaps of light and shade do between scenes. It is as if a series of Victorian peep show portraits were being immortalised on Max Jones’ picture frame set. Whether for posterity or evidence, Masson’s confessional as Utterson, the lawyer who bears witness to his friend Jekyll’s ultimately self destructive exploration of what lies beneath his nice guy façade, is a beguiling and all too appropriate double bluff.  

 

As with Stevenson’s original, all of this is reported to the audience at a remove that makes for a captivatingly creepy experience. Bathed in Richard Howells’ sepulchral light, with the low rumble of Richard Hammerton’s sound design underscoring Utterson’s litany, Masson’s tone throughout the play’s taut seventy minutes is quietly conspiratorial. Without any need for hammy horror theatrics, this makes for a hypnotic piece of storytelling writ large.

 

The shock here in Fentiman’s Reading Rep Theatre production comes from what we don’t see, even as Utterson’s secret self is laid bare along with that of everybody else. Purists may be irked, but this intimate interpretation of Stevenson by Masson and McNair (Victor and Gary, anyone?) plumbs the torrid depths of the human soul in a breathtaking display of sustained theatrical bravura.


The Herald, January 18th, 2023

 

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