Theatre review: The Ocean at the End of the Lane

The National usually puts a family show on one of its larger stages around Christmas but this year's offering winds up in the Dorfman; perhaps because, although it has its share of spectacle in Fly Davis and Samuel Wyer's design and Jamie Harrison's illusions, Katy Rudd's production relies heavily on old-fashioned theatricality and the work of its ensemble to bring its magic to life. Joel Horwood adapts Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane, in which the favourite Gaiman trope of the witchy Maiden, Mother and Crone guard the borders between realities. Samuel Blenkin is the unnamed Boy who, in 1983, a year after losing his mother, has another encounter with death on his 12th birthday when he finds the body of his family's lodger. The man has killed himself after gambling away other people's money, and the traumatic event close to a place where the boundaries between realities are weak wakes something on the other side.

The fact that the man died thinking of money seems to be relevant as coins start appearing in impossible places – in the guts of a tiny fish, coughed up by the boy himself - around the time he first meets Lettie (Marli Siu.)

She introduces him to her mother Ginnie (Carlyss Peer) and grandmother, who prefers to be known only as Old Mrs Hempstock (Josie Walker,) forming a trio who strongly imply they’ve been around for millennia, and whose very presence weakens the worlds between parallel universes. Lettie takes him on a mission to stop an eldritch abomination from breaking through, but instead they accidentally help it hitch a ride on the boy. Soon a new lodger appears, Ursula (Pippa Nixon) taking over the house like a demonic Mary Poppins, charming the boy’s Sister (Jade Croot) and Dad (Justin Salinger,) and explicitly trying to replace the dead mother. Lettie knows a way to get rid of the intruder, but it might unleash something even worse.

I’ve read Gaiman’s 2013 novel, but it’s not one whose details have stayed much with me – a few points seemed familiar but I was able to mostly watch it as if the story was new to me. I suspect this stage version might prove more memorable, as it manages to convey the complex themes of the story while adding its own striking visual identity. The story is told in flashback, as an adult version of the central character meets Old Mrs Hempstock again, having forgotten the events of his childhood, and they start to flood back. Whether the supernatural adventures he had were real or a coping mechanism for losing his mother and seeing his father move on to someone new is never clear, and ultimately doesn’t matter: The borders between memory and story can be as fragile as the ones between the Hempstocks’ parallel universes.

This blurring of the lines allows The Ocean at the End of the Lane to go to some particularly dark places: A lot of young people’s fiction features death heavily, but within the first few minutes we’ve heard of three deaths, including one shown on stage in grisly style (to back up my own point about Dear Evan Hansen being unusual in following expert advice to avoid suicide details, this is a family show that shows a body, and then gives a pretty clear description of exactly how the lodger did it.) On a less contentious note, I find it quite a bold move how Salinger’s character is left with a heavy question mark over whether his actions are influenced by Ursula, or if what we’re seeing really is an abusive father. There’s also body horror in the boy digging a supernatural intruder out of his flesh, and then there’s just the straightforward scares – Nixon turns the creepiness to the max from her first entrance, her signature pink gradually bleeding into the costumes of the characters she’s influencing, and a nightmare scene of her appearing from every direction is beautifully staged. She’s still not the biggest nightmare-fuel, as the puppets designed by Wyer and directed by Finn Caldwell bring the Hunger Birds to shrieking life (and create an incredibly grisly death scene for one character.)

But the most memorably creepy scene is one of the simplest, as Blenkin stands in a pool of Paule Constable’s light, in precarious safety as the Hunger Birds disguise themselves as his loved ones, trying to trick him into stepping out into danger. Not that there aren’t lighter moments to the play as well – the use of “Money, Money, Money” as a musical theme for a character whose very existence is tied up in making cash appear out of thin air is a nice low-key gag.

Having read a lot of Gaiman’s work I enjoyed seeing the themes of how the Maiden/Mother/Crone trio fits into the writer’s interest in eternal, immortal archetypes: All three women appear to be impossibly ancient, but Lettie will forever be the impulsive, impatient, flawed one due to her position as the youngest; Ginnie barely uses the magic she has, focusing instead on the motherly role of guiding the other two; and Old Mrs Hempstock is easily exhausted, but if she’s at full strength her magical knowledge makes her unstoppable. Siu, Peer and Walker provide a counterpoint of matter-of-fact wonder for Blenkin’s likeably wide-eyed guide through the fantasy worlds. He leads a generally strong cast and an atmospheric production that should fulfil anyone’s desire for darker festive fare – the 12+ age recommendation is probably well worth paying attention to.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Joel Horwood, based on the novel by Neil Gaiman, is booking until the 25th of January at the National Theatre’s Dorfman (returns, day seats and rush tickets only.)

Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including interval.

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan.