Written and Directed by Alexander Cook

The extent to one’s devotion can know no bounds – a dangerous concept when considering how far some will take their vows. And there is no denying that the church’s influence on rural communities is as vice-like as its coppers in the city banks.

Schism captures a thrillingly macabre sense of worship and faith taken to the extreme, but does not entirely offer up answers to the motivations of our characters; greed, lust, love, fear, witchcraft, or a genuine devotion to the Lord? Well, one thing is clear – if the Devil has never set foot in this Inn, something more mortal has claimed the spot of evil in the basement.

On a grim evening in the 1700’s, Father Charles (Charlie) arrives in a small hamlet in the Highlands, the storm outside pushing him into a small Inn where the last of the drinkers have departed. In this God-fearing pocket, Charlie’s presence in the village ruffles more than the feathers of the owner Iona, who recently married the local post-master Struan. But the foundations of the pair’s union appear to have a few skeletons shifting in the dirt – Struan unable to rest or stay still. But Struan isn’t the only one with a secret. Gradually, Iona becomes uncomfortable with their new guest, this young priest who may not have stumbled upon the Inn by mere coincidence in a storm.  

As the oldest institutions begin to catch up with the norm, small pockets exist where the patriarchal relish for judgement and control is exerted – erupting in a Schism within the church that struggles to find a new balance in an evolving world. Occasionally, with violent consequences. Alexander Cook’s new piece may concern itself principally as a mystery thriller but is as clear a jab at the pious nature of the church, and the fearmongering tactics which has kept its influence so profound across the land.

Cook’s writing certainly entices early into the narrative, the audience curious about Charlie’s intentions, the secrets which Struan and Iona keep regarding a local woman who has now fled the area, and the presence of ‘Father Logan’, a mysterious fourth character who generates a thickness in the air whenever his name passes another’s lips. Initially, it does run a touch into heavy exposition. It could do with a jolt of movement direction to keep the momentum at a steady pace before the meat of the narrative is enough to hold itself up.

There’s a two-stroke approach the second act of the production takes, leaning into a charged climax – one of Charlie and Iona’s conversations with one another as Iona gradually unravels the man behind the collar. It’s enriching to the characters and evolves the story at a firm and natural pace. What follows is a far more intensive eruption of all the seeds planted along the way as audiences finally get to see Father Logan and realise the extent to which people will devolve.

Fresh from his performance as the eccentric and charismatic Christopher Marlowe, Nicholas Thorne returns to the stage in Edinburgh to capture a more pious and reserved role in Charlie. Throne achieves a delicate balance in not siding strictly as the protagonist at first ensuring the audience is just as unwary of him as the townsfolk. They hold tremendous chemistry with Tarah-Mae Balfour’s nuanced performance and the force which is Ben Blow, making for a strong finale act that propels the production forward.

Cutting through the heavier elements of doctrine and theological battles, Balfour’s performance pushes Schism back into a more relatable setting which captures the surrounding fear and isolation. They have an assertive presence, even when playing a more downbeat and anxious role next to Blow’s imposing presence or alongside Calum Rosie’s nervous and twitching Struan, perhaps the most dangerous character on stage, certainly delivered with a performance that keeps audiences guessing to what Struan might do next: unhinged, but always on a short string.

While Rosie’s Sturn acts as the catalyst of events, Blow becomes a different trigger, the necessary ignition to push Schism’s pacing from the expository and a trite slow into rushing piety – driven by two exceptional performances from Blow and Thorne as the truth is unveiled: an archaic hellfire church of the past still very much alive, a more modestly devote new era attempting to atone for the sins. As a complete ensemble, the four turn in a well-choreographed performance which is laced with dialogue, complex theological arguments, and the flickering embers of patriarchal abuses. But the cast and Cook do a sterling job in fending off worries of over-bloating the show. The final fifteen minutes or so of Schism are enrapturing, lined with solid performances, telling of Broadsword Theatre’s quality over quantity.

A true testament to Blow’s continued excellence on the stage is how they manipulate the space to their control of character – the once ‘feeble’ and cane-wielding Father Logan turning the tables on the more youthful Charlie with ease. Their recitation of Cook’s script lifts the dialogue-heavy moments, Blow’s ability to pierce into understanding and meaning of the language wielded with precision. It makes for a malevolent and concerningly authentic antagonist. But more, there’s a clever Machiavellian nature Cook weaves; for a moment the audience questions their understanding and asks just what if Father Logan is correct, and there is something more hellish at work in the Highlands.

With a humble but effective set, Schism’s lighting occasionally causes confusing shifts in time. Schism appears to be set over a single evening, but the changes from deep blue to lighter, more day-breaking colours and back suggest a multi-day experience. But what it does capture is the claustrophobic nature of this rural-based thriller, slits in the projection causing shadowed bricks and bars, often cast over Balfour and Thorne to reflect their character’s differing forms of entrapment.

Schism is deserving of a further run – Cook’s script has all the makings of a successful stint at a new writing venue, striking as ambitious enough to feel at home amidst the Play, Pie, and Pint productions. A grand addition to a historical thriller, the four-strong performance takes gradual steps to offer context and background before catapulting into an engrossing tale of moral ambiguity and mystery. Absolutely one to watch as the nights draw cold, but be careful who you invite into the warmth.