Between 2013 and 2018, Kevin Scarlett, Stephen Farrar and Chris Carpenter all suffered self-inflicted deaths in HMP Woodhill, a high-security prison in Milton Keynes. Presenting verbatim records from relatives and others, Woodhill uses these stories to shine a light on the staggeringly unjust treatment of many prisoners around the UK.
It is bleak viewing. A dank, mouldy warehouse engulfs the stage with rows and rows of cardboard boxes, a physical depiction of the ever-frustrating struggle families of loved ones face against the system. Most powerfully, Alexandra Sarmiento’s choreography acts as a physical vocabulary used by all the cast to ‘speak’ the anguished verbatim words. There is immense precision to every cast member’s gestures, yet they are so often tense, forced to push back against an unknown.
Matt Woodhead’s gut-wrenching verbatim script, based on over 70 interviews, masterfully presents the universal struggle felt by all in the prison system: the families, the legislators, the guards. As director also, Woodhead even includes the struggle of the dead for their legacies to be honoured. Chris Tamin strolls the stage with hood up, throwing papers into the sky as names of the dead are declared. It is a wonderful metaphorical touch.
In wider society, whilst news stories about prisoners can easily result in the age-old adage of ‘throw away the lock and key’, here any chance for alienation is denied. Sami El-Enany and Owen Crouch’s music and sound design is so incredibly visceral, with wailing violins and bass that shakes the floor, it takes the audience’s emotions on the journey with the piece. Combined with Will Monks’ lights that pulsate as figures speak over audio, this is total theatre at its finest. A performance worthy of praise for its technical achievements if it were on the West End; at the Fringe, it is near-unbelievable.
Admittedly, at moments I wished for some silence, or stillness. There’s a continuous frantic energy to the piece that eventually wears down the impact of the immersive soundscape and lights. Yet perhaps constant movement is the point here: for all those involved in these terrible cases, there is no respite. It is one, long struggle.
We read these kinds of news stories painfully unaffected all the time. Yet Woodhill has perfectly understood these are atrocities that live beyond plain words: they are stories that can creep into souls if told sensitively, with sympathy and variety. Using music, dance, lights and smart direction, Woodhill certainly ticks those boxes. It is emotive and intense theatre.
Listings and ticket information can be found here
