by George Bernard Shaw, Reimagined by Stewart Laing

Review by Eloise Robertson

Traverse Theatre

Stewart Laing’s reimagining of Saint Joan is potent. It brims with innovation through its narrative framing, experimental soundscapes, and the bold multimedia twist of its Epilogue. What’s more, it is carried out with absolute precision in the performances of the whole cast. Put together, this provides an hour and a half of pure thrill which not only embraces the eternal relevance of Joan of Arc’s story but reshapes it expressly to motivate a modern audience.

It is a great credit to Laing’s direction and the performers’ prowess that the continuous multi-rolling was handled so successfully. Martin O’Connor’s flawless switching between Chorus, Steward, and Inquisitor epitomised this. Opening with his narration was a stellar choice; he was a completely trustworthy storyteller, allowing the audience to rest easy as he guided us through the story. Praise for this is owed to his natural delivery, which did not force emphasis or drama but opted instead for relaxed charm. This created comfort made his chilling handling of the Inquisitor role in Joan’s sham trial all-the-more impressive. Laing’s modernisation allowed us to substitute the archaic crime of ‘heresy’ for mere disobedience, ensuring O’Connor’s unsettling faux mercy held real impact; it was completely standout.

Mandipa Kabanda’s stage debut is wholly impressive. She made an endearing Joan, whose zealous religious spirit was not only comfortable, but praiseworthy. This is a hard task in a world far less enwrapped by religion than Bernard Shaw’s was: making fanaticism feel exciting and impassioning, rather than crazed. For the rest of the cast, each shone in their moments: be it Thierry Mabonga’s physical characterisation of La Tremouille, Lewis MacDougall’s deeply sympathetic Ladvenu, Ross Mann’s comic charm as Poulengy, or Manasa Tagica’s faultless handle on Warwick and the Executioner’s back and forth.

The intensity of the first half was complemented expertly by Yas Clarke’s perfectly overwhelming composition. In battle scenes this evoked the brutality of modern technological warfare by making discordant music of gunfire and bombings. Quieter moments, too, were handled with precision, as in the beautiful move from a church bell cacophony to a subtle but perfect chiming. The close collaboration between Clarke and lighting designer, Michaella Fee, was equally apparent. Fee’s design was completely eye-catching – emitting in various modes from a huge lamp onstage – without being distracting.

Structuring the narrative through stage directions, posited as shots in a film, was brilliant. This let the audience feel they were skipping through only the most engaging scenes, paving the way for vastly different pacing between the two parts. This worked masterfully: the invigoration provided by the first half left us fully invested and, so, willing to settle in for the second. The hold maintained over the audience’s attention throughout the gradually climaxing second part was deeply impressive; it is a credit to the performers.

Yet, Laing’s greatest success came in not leaving us merely satisfied with a well-played ending but in pushing for more with the Epilogue. This is where they wore their message on their chests: Joan the activist blazoned alongside protestors on film. Filmmaker Adura Onashile deserves a world of praise for portraying the righteous anger of our young generation without an ounce of the preachiness it’s so often mistaken for. Cutting between montages of a burning world and Kabanda covering herself in crude oil, the Epilogue provided a bold symbolism which will haunt my mind’s eye. It rounds out Laing’s vision ingeniously, gifting the audience the motivation to be better, to be more like Joan. Such is the complete triumph of this show.

---