There is more than a whiff of the fairground about Cut, the one-woman show written and directed by Duncan Graham and performed by Hannah Norris: all that is missing is being strapped into the seats. The psychological tension is created by smoke and mirrors, and very slickly done it is too. The way in which the audience are greeted, are told what they should do if they need to leave, the claustrophobic space, the eerie sound design, the carefully deployed lighting, and of course, the repeated use of sudden, total, blackout, are techniques straight from the sideshow: this is a real theatre of attractions.
The stagecraft is expertly done, the small space becoming integral to the play’s success, and the use of actor triggered state changes is highly effective and unobtrusive. Norris is able to take complete control of the room from start to finish.
The one big deficiency is the lack of a really decent sound system. Russell Goldsmith’s sound design is critical to the creation of tension; it needs to envelope the audience fully, filling the space, and needs, at a minimum, a reasonable level of proper bass.
If the writing was sufficient to carry the play on its own, such a shortcoming would not be so problematic. However, the narrative is probably the weakest part of the whole play, despite Norris giving it her best shot. It just doesn’t build up a critical mass of genuine apprehension, the sort of mass audience anxiety that can allow our fears to be played with, and because of this the climax is, unfortunately, a real dud.
To be fair, our expectations of what horror should deliver are probably very high, given how we experience it in the cinema. On the other hand, much of fear is in the mind of the beholder, and if perhaps Cut left more room for the audience’s imagination, it could realise its full shock potential.