The Wasp by Morgan Lloyd Malcolm, an Olivier-winning British playwright and screenwriter, is a darkly comic thriller with pretensions of psychological insight into childhood trauma. The play has been around since 2015 and has made an appearance in the West End. It was filmed in 2024, starring Naomie Harris and Natalie Dormer. The title refers, as we discover, to a tarantula hawk wasp that preys on tarantulas, the significance of which is revealed later in the play.
An obviously pregnant young white woman, Carla, dressed down and smoking, stands on stage between items of street furniture. She is waiting, apparently. An elegantly dressed and coiffured young black woman, Heather, arrives. They start to talk. Carla is loud-mouthed and brash. Heather appears cultured.
The setup involves these two women, now in their thirties, meeting for the first time since they were at school together 20 years earlier. Heather is married, successfully middle class after a privileged childhood, but has no children. Carla is working class, now on to her fifth child, working at Morrisons. Heather, it appears, is unhappily married to an unfaithful husband, and is apparently unable to have children, and now wants revenge.
The first act is a variation on Frederick Knott’s Dial M for Murder, but develops into something even more sinister with the revelation of secrets and childhood memories. There are a number of themes overlaying the relationship. The narrative involves a sting operation, revenge and the search for a resolution for crimes committed in childhood, and these run over and into each other.
I will not reveal any more, save that long-existing wounds open up around schooldays violence and humiliation, bullying and intimidation. But who is bullying who, and what are the consequences? There are twists and turns aplenty in act two, set in Heather’s elegant house, designed by Jana Lakatos, some of which may have been signalled earlier but nevertheless produce some juicy drama in the darker second act. The writing is strong enough to sustain the narrative for the two-hour run of the play.
The show is staged effectively in Southwark Playhouse’s thrust stage layout by the artistic director of Greenwich Theatre, James Haddrell, who moves his characters around to good effect.
The play very much depends on the performances of its cast of two and, in this regard, we were fortunate to be treated to excellent and authentic work by Serin Ibrahim as the down-at-heel Carla, and Cassandra Hercules, sometimes cultured, sometimes chilling, as the high-flying Heather. The characters are sharply drawn within the psychological framework the author has allocated to them and their relationship, which is constantly changing. Some key lines are often repeated in different physical spaces and with subtle changes in nuance, keeping the storytelling consistently engaging. The finale has an unexpected denouement, but one which is perhaps justified by the narrative.
It is not easy to write a two-handed thriller, but this one succeeds beyond expectations. It is an intriguing, compelling and intense evening about living with trauma in childhood and the sometimes dramatic consequences of it later in life. Highly recommended.
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