Review: The Elephant Man

Mar 14 2008 by Gail Cooper, Western Mail

Clwyd Theatr Cymru, Mold

Offer any one of us the chance to peep at a freak of nature, from conjoined twins to a40-stone woman, and nearly everyone would sneak a look.

So Bernard Pomerance’s The Elephant Man, revived after more than 30 years by Sheffield Theatres, touches a primeval urge in us all.

This touring production opens on the setting of a curly cast-iron bandstand, shrouded in Victorian fog and gloom, with grotesque figures scurrying across the stage. Is this him? No, it’s a man carrying a hip bath on his head. This? Another, with a sack. See how easily our overheated imaginations are fooled?

In fact, when Merrick, the cruelly deformed character at the centre of the play is finally revealed, he is shown as perfectly normal, as the writer directs in the text.

But, as the deformities are described and confirmed in photographs on flickering screens behind, actor Joe Duttine does a magnificent job of twisting his body into the disabilities.

He manages to make his right arm huge and useless by sheer power of suggestion. His face is distorted and his movements shambling. It’s a stunning piece of acting that is sustained throughout the play.

Ellie Jones’s direction of The Elephant Man is crisp and well-paced, and Ellen Cairns’s designs are excellent.

The bandstand doubles as fairground peepshow and as the London Hospital, where Merrick is rescued from life as a freak by the rising young surgeon Dr Frederick Treves. We first meet Treves, played by Antony Byrne, as a confident, good-looking new arrival at the hospital, intrigued by Merrick’s torment in the fairground, but anxious to exploit his problems for his own career advancement.

After bartering with the fairground barker, Ross (Clive Hayward), Treves purchases a day of Merrick’s life to examine him and record the results for five shillings; an uneasy transaction that overlays the daily public peepshow with a veneer of science.

When Merrick falls on hard times as his show is seen, even by the Victorians, as outraging public decency, he goes back to Treves for help. Thanks to a letter to The Times, he is given security for life at the hospital by public subscription.

With security, the man inside the deformed body emerges as intelligent, a “savant” whose outlook on life has been shaped by his unique experiences. Duttine softens Merrick’s disabilities and our pity turns to admiration.

Suddenly, the grotesque becomes fashionable, as society and the aristocracy flock to visit him and enjoy his bon mots. Princesses and dukes shower gifts upon him – but as one scene shows, each sees in the figure of Merrick a reflection of his or her own character rather than the man himself.

The production is atmospheric and raises disturbing questions in a world where TV freak shows have replaced the Victorian fairground booths.

But other modern parallels seem a step too far, as in the second half of the play Merrick discovers sex thanks to Mrs Kendal (Catherine Kanter) and Dr Treves discovers uncertainty via a very modern angst.

However, it’s a worthwhile evening and a thought-provoking look at how we view difference in others.

The show runs until tomorrow. The box office number is 0845 330 3565

4 out of 5