Felicity vs. The Woman in Black (review)

Last Monday, I watched Stephen Mallatratt's stage adaptation of The Woman in Black at the Liverpool Playhouse. I've got to say, it was a pleasant surprise.

Keckwick and Kipps travel to Mrs Drablow's house (Photo: Tristram Kenton)

I sat down into the small theatre seat and chatted away with my friend until the announcements began and the lights dimmed. I didn't have any expectations for this - my friend really wanted to go, so I just booked the tickets and forgot about it for the most part - but I was pretty excited to see how they would turn this period horror into a chilling theatre experience.

Having seen the film adaptation of Susan Hill's novella featuring Daniel Radcliffe as sparky junior solicitor Arthur Kipps in 2012, I knew the overall plot line and was intrigued enough to want to see it performed live without the dramatic camera angles and special effects. Bare in mind that I haven't yet read the book, but I've done my research and plan to snag a copy at my local bookstore; I didn't realise just how the vastly the film version deviates from the original story.



There are going to be some major spoilers ahead from here, so you might want to skip this part until after the next photo if you're waiting to see it.

A major difference between the film and stage versions that I spotted almost as soon as the curtain lifted was the narrative structure. Radcliffe's portrayal showed a fresh-faced Kipps tasked with retrieving any relevant documents from the late Alice Drablow, a social pariah in the small town of Crythin Grifford. As with many movies, the story and any background information is developed through actions, dialogue, voice-overs and flashbacks. The audience meets many of the main characters at the beginning of the play, and we grow attached to each of their stories as the film progresses.

The play is set out quite differently, in which the first scene is of an older Kipps (David Acton) approaching a young actor (Matthew Spencer) that he has hired to try and help him dramatise the manuscript of his story that he intends to read to his family, attempting to find some release from his past horrors by doing so.

There is some sympathy towards Kipps as he first shows his frustrations at the actor as he pleads Kipps to consider his audience, though the old man insists that "this is not a performance" and protests every time the actor states "we'll make an Irving of you yet!" after some small changes are made. It is clear that Kipps is still haunted by the events in the Drablow household and may have avoided speaking about it in such detail until now.

However, with as many dark and gloomy moments there are within the play, there are just as many light and cheerful ones. The audience laughed at Kipps's every time he tried to deliver the story as the young actor advised, each valiant attempt sounding as awkward and monotonous as the last. The idea of the lovable Spider (Sam Dailey's dog) being imaginary on stage is ridiculous to old Mr Kipps, though his humourous first few attempts at pretending to pet him are almost forgotten about as the play progresses, and Spider becomes as real to the audience as Kipps himself. It isn't until the actor hands him a pair of prop spectacles that he finally embraces each role, and amount of jump-cuts between the actor and Kipps talking and progression of the story become less and less frequent.

Though I'm still in two minds of whether it could have been extended or not, the ending was quite possibly the best part in the entire play, especially in comparison to the film adaptation. In the movie, the last scenes are of a young Joseph Kipps (Radcliffe's godson) being lured onto the tracks, and whilst Arthur Kipps makes a brave attempt to save him, they are both killed by an oncoming train. In the afterlife (still on the tracks), young Kipps spots a lone young woman on the tracks, leading to a bittersweet family reunion.

In my opinion, the ending I saw on Monday packed one hell of a punch that has left me in a brooding mood ever since.

At one point in the play, old Mr Kipps has to stop in a fit of emotion, getting caught up in the fear he once saw in Mr. Jerome's face. This soon prompts the young actor to mention he has a young child of his own, assuring Kipps that he was truly invested in the story that had to be told. Around this time, Kipps also mentioned that he had a surprise for the actor, and kept hedging about what it was when the actor first assumed it was the actress Kipps had hired to play the woman in black (Jennet). Now, this was when I should have put two-and-two together and realised what was going on, but I was still blissfully unaware.

After the actor and Kipps rehearsed the final scenes, recounting how Kipps lost his wife and child (Stella and Joseph) a year after he returned to London after seeing the woman in black at a country fair, Kipps reveals his hope that showing this to his family would exorcise the haunting woman.

The actor later goes on to praise Kipps for his surprise, stating that the 'actress' he had hired had even frightened him at some points. Even if you were too far away to see his face, the stillness and horror that surrounded Kipps' posture would be enough to start sending waves of dread through any audience member. Kipps reveals that he did not hire any actress and the stage falls into darkness, a beam of light momentarily lingering on the face of the woman in black on the floor above, behind the eerie gauze.

Kipps attempting to save Spider as Acton narrates (Photo: Tristram Kenton)

Aside from the acting, I have to say that I particularly enjoyed the set design and lighting. For the most part, only the front of the stage was visible with only a few props scattered here and there, including: a wicker basket (for storing Mrs Dralow's documents and serving as handy bench or bed), a clothes rack (some onstage costume changes), and two large piles of fabric at the front left and right of the stage (representing the marshes, a gap in the middle to indicate the road to the Drablow house). There is a single door to the far right hand side of the stage, which remains locked for the most part.

The rest of the stage was concealed by gauze, and the eerie setting behind it was only unveiled when light shone through it. Looking at the covered armchairs, and later a child's abandoned bedroom, added an extra layer of tension in the audience. It was lit up enough to see the set behind, but the gauze added an almost foggy effect of not quite being able to see everything clearly, mimicking the darkness of the house and fear it instilled in Kipps each time he investigated a strange noise. Let's also not forget the single strip of light leading to the mysterious locked door whenever the mysterious rocking noise kicked in.

Each time there was a change in weather, the lighting on stage changed: a harsh blue and some yellow for the cold, warm reds and oranges for cosy scenes. At night, the lights either dimmed to near darkness, or the only light on stage would be from Kipps' torch. The latter was especially nerve-wracking when the bobbing light was all you could see from behind the gauze, or when it was in the middle of thick smoke that was pumped onstage for the foggy marshes.

Overall, I would say that this play is a must-see for anyone who is able to see it. Bring someone along if you can, especially if they're prone to jump out of their skin at the scary bits. I didn't realise my friend was a jumper, and it made the experience even more memorable when he suddenly latched onto me in fear.

Oh, and did I mention that this is a two-man play?