Surely everyone knows the story of Jekyll and Hyde: the tale of a doctor who experiments on himself, and thereby turns into a monster. In this striking adaptation, Dr Jekyll is a woman – and so, of course, is Hyde. But that’s not the only intriguing thing abut this atmospheric production, which expertly finesses Robert Louis Stevenson’s story to highlight themes which most retellings leave behind.
JD Henshaw’s thoughtful script fully explores the conundrum of Hyde’s creation. She is fresh to the world – her every experience a new one – yet she is fully-grown, strong, and has seemingly inherited Jekyll’s knowledge and intellect. She speaks sensually, almost lustfully, of her first taste of strawberries… but in her ignorance of social norms, her quest for new experiences leads her to darker places too. She’s child-like in her joy when she first learns to exchange a smile, but childishly perplexed when she does the wrong thing – a terribly wrong thing – and breaks the spell.
On the other side of the equation, there’s something almost Thatcherite about Dr Jekyll: the cool voice, the exaggerated tone, the unshakeable self-confidence that her experiment is worth the cost. Hubristically, she imagines she is tutoring Hyde, little knowing that her pupil is already far ahead of her. By the end, she’s become a figure of pity – a passenger in her own body, who’s lost all connection with the life she herself created. Jekyll speaks of Hyde with the indulgence of a parent towards their child; Hyde returns that affection with cold disdain.
Impressive though the script is, it’s Heather-Rose Andrews’ stunning solo performance which truly makes this show. Filled with physicality, it embodies both Hyde’s feral menace and her wonderment at discovering the world. As we watch the transformation from Jekyll to Hyde, we witness pain and horror, but also joy and delight at simply existing – all expressed plainly but wordlessly, as Andrews writhes and grimaces in her chair. In one memorable scene, Jekyll and Hyde compete for control of their shared body, the transitions crisp and convincing as the argument goes on and on.
In the end, we discover, Hyde has learned from Jekyll. But she’s picked up the wrong lessons: the scorn for perceived inferiors, the belief that anyone can be bought. It’s set in the age of Victoria, but this is still a morality tale for the present day… and it’s Andrews’ stellar performance which brings those vital messages vividly to life.