We are not wholly bad or good
Who live our lives under Milk Wood
I must admit to being surprised when I took my seat for the Teddington Theatre Club’s production of Under Milk Wood. I’d been directed into a small, nondescript room, without a stage or banked seating. The walls were lined on all sides with chairs, the floor was covered in a black rubber sheet, and a line of washing hung across the doorway. On a chair in the corner sat a man in dark glasses – the blind Captain Cat, dreaming.
An unprepossessing start, perhaps. But when the play began, the quirky staging suddenly made sense. The actors were inches away from us, sometimes addressing their lines to us as though we were local gossips or village reprobates. The gossamer thin divide between audience members and actors reminded us that this is a highly universal work – one that reflects human foibles, dreams and frailties. The whole thing was remarkably immersive, and perfectly suited to Dylan Thomas’s intimate, voyeuristic play.
We’re in Llareggub, a tiny Welsh fishing village surrounded by woods, farms and hills, and lapped by the sea. Watching in the darkness, we see the inhabitants dream impossible dreams – the drowned dead haunt blind Captain Cat, two husbands appear at once to the twice-widowed Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard, would-be lovers are joined at last. The dream world of Llareggub is thickly webbed with connection, memories, reunions and love.
But by day, the people of this tiny village are alone. They may know each other’s business, read each other’s letters, and gossip in the pubs and shops – but they are each infinitely remote. The school teacher and landlord repress their feelings for each other, Captain Cat weeps alone, Myfanwy Price and Mog Edwards never marry, and Little Willy Weasel is ‘dead, dead, dead’.
The sparse props were used inventively and evocatively – the small room became a street, a playground, a village hall, a meadow and a wood – and sometimes several at once. A cross over the head of reverend Eli Jenkins conjured up a church. Several clocks, suspended from the ceiling, became the ticking lair of the mad Lord Cut-Glass.
An immensely versatile, hard working cast of 8 actors manage to evoke 45 distinct and nuanced characters. To single out only a few from the universally excellent cast - Linda Sirker was convincing in every role, from the petulant Gwennie to the homely Mrs Dai Bread 1. Jeremy Gill invested his roles with well-judged humour, and Eoz Barrett was excellent as the heroic but miserly Mog Edwards.
Under Milk Wood lets us peer into the heart of a community as they sleep, eat, drink and dream for the span of a single day and night. It’s a play with an immense scope, dealing in everything from the price of soapflakes to the oblivion of death. The TTC’s performance did it full justice – bringing out its shades of humour and melancholy, as well as its rich poetry. Highly recommended.
Check out Theatre/Arts Section for more great local theatre news, reviews and interviews
You can also follow us on Facebook and Twitter for updates on all our latest articles
Sign up to our Weekly Newsletter for exclusive competitions, offers and stories
Looking to advertise your business in Surrey or SW London? Check out our 11 different lifestyle magazines with a combined monthly distribution of over 210,000 AB1 homes
