Annie Kershaw transforms The Maids into something effectively disturbing at Jermyn Street Theatre
“The beauty of my crime was supposed to relieve the brutality of my suffering”
Cair Paravel must be a little empty at the moment as the 2 Queens of Narnia (from the 2000s film franchise) are both currently treading the boards in London. Georgie Henley is delivering phenomenal work in Tarantula at the Arcola and opting for similarly intense materials as opposed to CS Lewis’ finest, Anna Popplewell is co-starring in a new production of Jean Genet’s The Maids, playing at the Jermyn Street Theatre in a co-production with Reading Rep. In a translation by Martin Crimp, Annie Kershaw delivers a strangely ethereal but deeply compelling production.
Sisters Solange and Claire are maids to their preening, self-obsessed Mistress, somone they look up to as much as they want to tear down. While she is away, they take turns to embrace the full gamut of their feelings, dressing up in her clothes as they roleplay as mistress and maid, revelling in the cruelty and humiliation they can dole out but also rehearsing something darker, a ritual baked in revenge that suggests they might be looking to turn pretending into a power play. Mistress’ return thus unleashes a deadly game as they all wrestle for control.
The play may have been written in 1947 but Kershaw, along with designer Cat Fuller, removes most specificity from it, aside from hints at a loosely modern setting. The class conflict driving the sisters’ animosity can sit in pretty much any era, along with Mistress’ blithe ignorance of how her employees truly perceive her. A large mirror reflects as much as it reveals, its occasional two-way nature exposing darkness within and Joe Dines’ sound design and Catja Hamilton’s lighting work contribute enormously to the undulating eeriness of proceedings, unnerving in their various swells as the level of menace grows.
Popplewell’s Solange and Charlie Oscar’s Claire are vivid and vicious as their repressed feelings seethe under the surface, only being allowed to break through at key moments. The cruelties they feed into their games, the relish they get from provoking a response, the near-ecstatic release of an arch but affecting late expulsion of words, Popplewell nailing the chilling delusion that accompanies so many criminals. Carla Harrison-Hodge does well to flesh out Mistress, though her ditzy entitlement does provide ample motivation. An intriguingly different approach to this classic play, marking Kershaw as a director to watch.