Venison, written by Huw Turnbull and directed by Minnie Cross, is a black comedy set around the table of dinner party, which quickly deteriorates in comfort as Dan, Bill, and Max (the guests) gage that their friend Jane’s tardiness (who’s dinner it is) is more likely to be permanent absence…
Tensions continue to rise as Jane’s ominous boyfriend, Jerry, insists they stay, instigating a furtive character analysis of him, fear-fuelled and farcical in equal measure. With a constant carousel of movement and quick-witted rapport, the on-stage action flits between a frenzied examination of the facts at hand, and a repressed angst, as Jerry alternates between cooking and hosting.
The eccentricity of Jerry (played by Thomas Catton) is instantly established as he kicks-off the production, shamelessly dancing around the set, simultaneously setting the ridiculous tone of the play and introducing the importance of its physicalised comedy. We quickly see how developed and different each character is as Dan, a classic yuppie played by Gordon Stackhouse, lets himself in as Jerry cooks. Good structural repetition is created by Catton and Stackhouse with humorous moments, such as Dan’s drinking of preset glasses of wine, refilled by a baffled Jerry, only for them to be drunk again. And again.
The dynamic between characters at this point, despite their lack of direct interaction, only improves as the other guests Bill, played by Ruth Maley, and Max, played by Minnie Cross, arrive. The diversity of accents along with their sheer depth of development and on-stage chemistry generates a rich and well-rounded performance.
As the play progresses, we are drip-fed character flaws of everyone onstage, allowing for a more realistic introduction, and therefore a fairer viewing of each; simultaneously, we are offered greater insight into Jerry, rendering our perception of him as less creepy, and more vulnerable – a misinterpreted social outcast. On hearing “we all indulge in something” – stated in defence but with total physical and vocal certainty – and as we become more exposed to the (ungenerously stated) pitchy mood-swings of the true-crime addicted, stimulant-dependant, and self-righteous aspects of the guest’s natures, we are invited to wonder whether we should view Jerry’s character assassination as the deluded convictions of the lonely, or whether something more sinister is actually at play. What Cross and Turnball have managed to do so skilfully, is give the audience the space to make our own interpretations: nothing is forced and we get a fair presentation of everyone, every plot possibility laid out, allowing for our own conclusions to be formed.
Simply put, Venison was incredibly well written, directed, and performed. One became entirely immersed in the farcical spiralling of the dinner party, liking and disliking the characters in equal measure, generating uncertainty as to who was right and wrong. The on-stage chemistry between each character was joyful to experience: the delivery of each vivacious line was well-paced and clearly enunciated, and every silence was acted in, creating an atmosphere of humorous urgency and transferring the feeling that there was not a moment to be wasted. Turnbull and Cross clearly share a creative process that works, and their SlashHouse Theatre Company is definitely one to look out for.
Image by SlashHouse Theatre Company