Rupert Hill is one of those actors that makes it look effortless.
He is excellent at conveying what is going through a character’s mind, without saying anything. And in his new play Husk, he is not only acting, he has written the piece too.
He originally wrote it as a TV pilot, and even though there was initial interest, it never materialised on the screen.
Years later he revisited it on his laptop, after he had given up drinking and it now had new meaning and purpose.
Husk at Hope Mill Theatre
Rupert himself described his characters as “trapped in some kind of prison.” And that is the striking thing about this new and involving play.
Everyone feels boxed in and unable to move forward for a variety of reasons. Addiction is also a recurring theme.
Ray (Rupert Hill) is released from prison, following a long stretch which has been increased. He is a quietly contemplative character, who does not waste his words. He has become a keen reader and likes a great love story.
Beth (Danielle Henry) is a wannabe writer, who is almost burned out from running a hotel with her husband Clark (Daniel Poyser).
They went to school with Ray and during the many flashbacks and flash-forwards, we sense a connection between Ray and Beth.
But it is not as straightforward as it seems.
Beth’s dad (David Crellin) is losing his grip on reality and becomes imprisoned by his dementia, and there is one quietly affecting moment, when he feels the slow-burning effect of this cruel illness, as he comes up for air.
And it is incredibly poignant and proves that less is sometimes more when it comes to performance and direction.
There is some hope and that comes in the form of a Scottish, Barbra Streisand – loving inmate called Stan (David McCreedy) and he brings humour and some wickedly funny lines which land really well, thanks to this actor’s superb comic timing. So much so, that you don’t want anyone to rain on his parade in this quest for freedom.
Rupert Hill’s vivid writing
Rupert Hill’s writing is vivid and it conjures up images into your mind and they live there rent-free throughout the play’s run time.
One striking scene features Ray, unshaven, dressed as his mum in a floral dress, entering a noisy and rowdy pub during a football match.
Vivid descriptions of bald men, who all look the same and sound the same build tension, making you laugh.
The writing is as bold as the protagonist’s actions, and you wait with bated breath for more than the football to kick off.
There is beauty and rawness in the poetic and naturalistic dialogue, and often it does not sound like lines from a play.
At times, it feel like you are eavesdropping, and no-one knows you are there.
Watching Ray wandering around on a quest, armed with a mannequin adorned in his mum’s favourite dress is a heartbreakingly raw exploration of grief, addition and displacement.
Like the film Lars and the Real Girl, this is quietly quirky, yet beneath that lies something highly emotive.
It reminds you of faceless figures who pound the streets of Manchester all day, clutching a few dirt stained belongings, as we all stare at our phones, and walk on by.
At times, the constant time shifts do cause your mind to wander, as actors bring props onto the stage, against the backdrop of Grant Archer’s beautifully realised video projections of Ray’s mother and surveillance footage, meshed with fragmented memories.
And one particular relationship is not as fully formed as you would hope, due to a big twist.
This does mean that a character ends up filling the blanks with expositional dialogue.
Sorcha Corcoran’s stark set
Sorcha Corcoran’s stark set presents a drab and hopeless world one minute, which contrasts with Tom Sutcliffe’s striking lighting which follows the codes and conventions of a thriller, mixed with that feeling of hope that blazing hot sunshine brings.
This is brave storytelling, as Rupert Hill has to dig deep personally both on the page and on the stage.
Great direction never feels that someone is behind the scenes pulling the strings, and Joseph Houston gives each performer quiet moments, and this means they can underplay the emotional content, and that creates a greater impact.
Tickets for Husk at the Hope Mill Theatre
Husk is at the Hope Mill Theatre until 29th September and can be booked here
You can also catch it at the Dukes, Lancaster from 2nd – 3rd October. Get your tickets here