Theatre review: The Welkin

After adapting Chimerica for TV Lucy Kirkwood returns to the stage for a play that feels equally epic in ambition, even if instead of spanning continents this one is largely set in a single room. It does have its thoughts on the stars though, as The Welkin takes place in Suffolk in 1759, the year in which Edmond Halley had predicted the comet that would eventually bear his name would appear. It's a scientific discovery that's captured the imagination of people even in remote, small towns like this one, with everyone regularly mentioning it, hoping they might catch a glimpse of the celestial body. But if human knowledge is expanding to include the heavens, women like midwife Lizzy Luke (Maxine Peake) find that progress closer to home is much slower than they would like. Summoned grudgingly away from her laundry, Lizzy's expertise has had her requested by a local judge to take part in one of the few areas of Georgian law left to the judgement of women.

Sally Poppy (Ria Zmitrowicz) has been convicted as an accomplice in the brutal murder of the 11-year-old daughter of the local lord and landowner. Her lover has already been hanged for it and it's now her turn, but Sally says she's pregnant - and if true, the courts can't condemn her unborn child to die with her.

The convention is a Jury of Matrons – twelve women, all of whom have been pregnant themselves, to deliberate over whether she’s telling the truth. If they decide she’s lying she’ll be hanged immediately, if they judge she’s pregnant her sentence will be commuted to transportation. But with the pregnancy at such an early stage even Lizzy’s expertise isn’t enough to definitively say whether it’s real, and the women are left to argue their opinions, coloured by their own prejudices about Sally based on the brutality of the murder – as well as on their preconceptions of her as one of the poorest in their community. Even their relationships with each other are fair game to come to a head and affect their verdict. The play’s title is an archaic word for the heavens, and these too are liable to have responsibility passed on to them for deciding one way or the other, whether it’s conjecturing that the comet might have affected Sally’s menstrual cycle and driven her mad, or the women praying so hard for guidance that they miss a vital piece of evidence.

Kirkwood’s play is essentially a character piece that throws these women together for a few hours "without meat, drink, fire or candle" to hurry the verdict along, and James Macdonald’s production is luxury cast with Future Dames and familiar faces like Jenny Galloway, Haydn Gwynne, Aysha Kala, Wendy Kweh, Cecilia Noble, June Watson and Hara Yannas. They bring energy and variety that help the 3-hour running time go by comparatively quickly, and for all that it deals with very dark subjects there’s a lot of comedy as the women take different approaches to being taken away from their daily tasks (Bunny Christie’s most memorable design is the opening tableau of the twelve slogging through their housework.)

Some worry about getting behind on their chores while others relish the opportunity for something different. Fast becoming the NT’s resident show-stealer, Noble’s snobby Emma Jenkins glories in the opportunity to take down a young woman she never liked, while cosying up to Gwynne’s Mrs Cary, a military widow whose station has seen her made forewoman despite being a stranger who happened to be visiting the town. Only Lizzy seems to prioritise giving Sally a fair hearing, as well as being determined that they take this rare opportunity for women to make the decision, and fighting against allowing a male doctor to examine Sally and overrule them. In this female-dominated environment bailiff Mr Coombes (Philip McGinley,) the only man permitted in the room, is not allowed to speak and is treated largely as a figure of fun by the women, but Kirkwood does have one last nasty reminder up her sleeve about who really holds the power.

There’s also a couple of anachronistic references that jolt us out of the 1750s and remind us that the story’s concerns aren’t purely historical – although this is an element that felt like it was going to take the play into a more surreal direction that it never really did. But for all its feminist credentials The Welkin is as much about social inequality as it is about men and women: Sally’s stubbornly amoral attitude towards the murder comes from the child’s family’s vast levels of privilege, and her belief that giving them this grief is payment for the daily losses people like her experience. And ultimately it doesn’t matter what gender makes the final decision when money and power will be able to overrule it. This is dark but witty and entertaining theatre that had the audience buzzing as they left the Lyttelton.

The Welkin by Lucy Kirkwood is booking in repertory until the 23rd of May at the National Theatre’s Lyttelton.

Running time: 2 hours 55 minutes including interval.

Photo credit: Brinkhoff-Moegenburg.