Theatre review: The Book of Dust - La Belle Sauvage

The last of what were meant to be my Christmas shows that got bumped into January sees Nicholas Hytner at the Bridge revisit one of his biggest successes from his time at the National Theatre: He and playwright Nicholas Wright turned Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy into an epic two-part play, and a production I still remember fondly. Bryony Lavery now takes over adaptation duties for Pullman's prequel, The Book of Dust - La Belle Sauvage, which takes the story back to Lyra's world. It's an alternate universe where the Church - known as the Magisterium - has an authoritarian grip on all aspects of life, which in this even darker take on the world includes a fascistic private army, as well as a junior version that encourages schoolchildren to turn their parents and peers in to the authorities for perceived offences against the Magisterium. But the most obvious difference between this world and Lyra's is a physical one.

Here, humans have evolved to have an aspect of their souls, known as a dæmon, take physical form. It exists outside of their bodies but can't go too far away from them, is a constant companion and source of comfort, and takes the shape of an animal - what kind of animal reflects the human's personality. Except as in the original trilogy our protagonists are young teenagers, so their dæmons are ever-changing, not having settled on a permanent form yet.

At a country pub outside Oxford, the landlady's son Malcolm (Samuel Creasey) with his dæmon Asta (Olivia Le Andersen), and pot-washer Alice (Ella Dacres) with her dæmon Ben (Sky Yang) get caught up in a conspiracy when Malcolm finds out a baby has been hidden at a local nunnery. Lyra (played by a real baby, except in the disconcertingly frequent scenes when she has to get flung around the stage) will grow up to become the heroine of His Dark Materials, but for now is helpless, and Malcolm instantly bonds and wants to protect her. And she'll need it, as among those seeking her are not only the Magisterium but also her own parents Lord Asriel (John Light) and Marisa Coulter (Ayesha Dharker.)

For me personally the big difference between this and the earlier shows is that I'd read and loved the original trilogy before seeing His Dark Materials on stage (I nearly cried when I walked into the theatre for Part 1 and saw the set, for spoiler-related reasons) whereas this time I hadn't read La Belle Sauvage beforehand. So I don't know if it's the story or the adaptation that doesn't carry quite the same emotional kick (or the fact that this is an adaptation of a single novel, rather than a whole trilogy with the attendant emotional investment in the characters.) It's still an engrossing and tense evening though, as the story goes to even darker places than its precursor, and biblical levels of rain ramp up the peril.

Where it does match the original is in spectacle: The Bridge may not have the Olivier's Drum Revolve, which was used to the max in His Dark Materials, but the use of video on stage has progressed immeasurably since 2004, so Luke Halls' projections are an undoubted star of the evening: Woodcut-like illustrations giving picture-book backdrops to the locations, before coming to life to create the river and eventually the flood for some spectacular action sequences. Barnaby Dixon's dæmon puppets are effective if not quite the showstoppers I would have expected, and I was downright disappointed in the Golden Monkey: I wouldn't have been able to tell what Mrs Coulter's dæmon was if I didn't already know, and there's certainly no indication of it being the most malevolent force in the entire story*.

Creasey and Dacres create a likeable and interestingly combative central pair - playing on the clichés of arguing couples, Pullman gives us two kids whose language suggests they genuinely hate each other, building to a grudging but genuine friendship rather than a traditional romance. Dharker is a pleasingly cold-blooded Mrs Coulter although I could have done with more of her: The main adult antagonist this time is creepy academic Gerard Bonneville (Pip Carter,) whose hyena dæmon (Julie Atherton) is sickly and injured, but still gives all their scenes a soundtrack of sinister cackling. In keeping with how far Pullman pushes the adult themes of the story, Bonneville has a reputation for sexually assaulting young girls, and is openly grooming Alice throughout.

On the opposite end of the scale Naomi Frederick's Dr Relf is a warmer presence among the adults, although in keeping with the surveillance state the story's set in she leaves a little room for doubt as to whose side she's really on. Much of the joy of La Belle Sauvage (named after Malcolm's canoe, which saves their lives in the flood several times,) is in seeing the story's pieces come together to give us the situation as we find it at the start of Northern Lights, so I'm not sure it would have quite the same effectiveness for anyone unfamiliar with the original trilogy (although Dearbhla Molloy's gossipy nun gives Lavery a handy way to drop in a lot of the background story.) On the other hand Pullman's metaphors being more overtly political, less metaphysical, help make this the best part of the story to present as a standalone.

Overall I don't think this packs the emotional punch to stick with me quite as strongly as the original trilogy or its adaptation, but it's still a strong story, and what Hytner and his team have put on stage is a hugely entertaining, sometimes disturbing spectacle. And (with the exception of the tiny canoe and tiny helicopter, which get dwarfed by the huge stage and end up more comic than effective) it's a great showcase for what both modern theatre technology, and more traditional storytelling techniques can do together.

The Book of Dust - La Belle Sauvage by Bryony Lavery, based on the novel by Philip Pullman, is booking until the 26th of February at the Bridge Theatre.

Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including interval.

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan.

*I was also a bit distracted at the start as I could swear Light's George Boatright actually petted the landlady's dæmon in the pub; I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt and say maybe I got some of the puppets confused, or otherwise the actors were trying something different after a couple of months in the role, and hadn't quite twigged that in Lyra's world this is probably the most shocking thing you could possibly do