REVIEW - The House of Bernarda Alba, Caxton Theatre, 1st - 8th March 2025 - ****
- theatrereviews
- Mar 6
- 3 min read
Lorca’s The House of Bernarda Alba, posthumously linked with his previous works Blood Wedding (1932) and Yerma (1934) to form a “rural trilogy” of tragedies, has been newly translated for Gillian Shields’ production. Adapted and directed by Shields herself, I hope that she has secured the vision that she initially wanted; she has a right to be proud of this gripping, well-crafted adaptation.
It's a story played out within the confines of a sprawling Spanish courtyard, nestled within a village where gossip is treated as currency and an era where the relationships of women (or, more specifically here, mother vs. daughters, escalating to sisters vs. sisters) are irrevocably shattered, driven, by some point at least, by the culture and machinations of a patriarchal society (although male actors are tellingly and famously absent from the text).
Shields has kept to Lorca’s nightmarish vision steadfastly, exploring a family living under the rule of Bernarda (Jo Cox) and her absolute stance about how her family - or any other for that matter - should behave. The house itself plays home, or cell, to her five daughters: the eldest, spinster-like Angustias (Lucy Tooze); the good-hearted, reasonable Magdalena (Gemma Quickfall); the embittered, lame-footed Martirio (Louise Blakey); the soft-spoken, playful Amelia (Ruby Dobson) and the youngest – the contrary, free-spirited Adela (Lucy-Ann Jessop).
The family dynamics at work are fascinating; the play is less about narrative and plot driving the action than the atmosphere the initial situation has created. Upon the death of her second husband, Bernarda’s eldest daughter is, somewhat incongruously, being wooed, for her large inheritance left to her by Bernarda’s first husband. The new suitor on the block, Pepe el Romano, is the proverbial cat among the pigeons… each sister has a differing opinion of either Pepe or their sisters’ viewpoint, and none of them are in agreement with their mother’s imposition of an eight-year mourning period.
It stands to reason, then, that creating the right atmosphere in performance is Shields' key challenge. Some members of the cast are stronger than others, but it’s equally fair to say that they all demonstrate a deep believability, when the tragedy borders on melodrama. Emotions are deftly handled, but perhaps the envelope could have been pushed a little further – none of the physical bust-ups come across as convincing, and the forever imposing, encroaching threat of Bernarda isn’t always picked up. But these are minor issues. The script is taut, the direction is spritely, and the characters are well explored.
Production values are simplistic, thus not detracting to what’s really at play here. But although it is commonplace to stage The House of Bernarda Alba so bleakly (almost clinically), what is lacking is some subtlety with the lighting, which does infrequently leave its cast in unfriendly and abstract colours, not so much depicting dreamy Andalusian sunsets, but rather crude and ungainly… well, theatre lights. It’s a minor blip, more than compensated by some occasional delicate lighting (the evening meal with the visiting neighbour, played by Alex Evans, for example) and an unobtrusive but omnipresent soundscape. Together with effective costumes, Shields’ production is beautifully imagined.
There is some levity too, the majority provided by Julie Flint’s tour-de-force performance as Poncia, Bernarda’s head servant and, possibly, (in the context of the play, at least), her closest friend. Flint, training through the Acting Lincs initiative founded in Grimsby, brings a Mrs. Bridges/Mrs. Patmore-esque down-to-earth lovability, in a play not famed for its lighter touches. Jo Cox chews up the scenery deliciously with fine Mafioso-style, while there are tender and harrowing moments from Lucy-Ann Jessop and Louise Blakey, in particular. However, stealing the show, with two show-stopping scenes, is Hazel Hale playing the role of Bernarda’s Mother, the infirm Maria Josepha (Hazel Hale). She is a permanent incumbent of the House, and her “interruptions” to the drama are at moments surreal, yet perverse and unsettling. It’s a role and a performance that doesn’t so much as snap you back into the room as take you off on a more deep-rooted, problematic tangent.
The House of Bernarda Alba is a compelling companion piece to January’s offering from the Caxton Theatre Society (see here for our review of The Pillowman). Praise to Shields and the theatre for staging this well-known, although infrequently performed, classic.
The House of Bernarda Alba is being performed at the Caxto Theatre, Thursday 6th - Saturday 8th March 2025, at 7.30pm. Please click on the link below to buy tickets.
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