Badgers theatre review: True crime uncovered
A compelling, poetic script and fantastic performances propel this story of grief and journalistic ethics
%20(3).JPG)
The fascination with true crime isn’t new: we’re a macabre bunch. From penny dreadfuls to Netflix specials, there’s money to be made from tragedy. Clawing open the ethics of creating content in this area, Malaika Kegode’s Badgers weaves an intimate story of grief with various side-narratives on missing persons, gig theatre, journalistic responsibility and a splash of crimson-coated folk horror. If that sounds like a lot, it is. But this Theatre Royal Plymouth production, created in association with Bristol Old Vic, balances these elements with only minor early-day technical hiccups and, admittedly, convoluted storytelling.
Meles is navigating the impending loss of her renowned journalist mother alongside an eerie local legend of badgers taking human form. Meanwhile, she’s launched a successful podcast in which she unravels a decade-old disappearance of musician Ben. Offstage voices and sound design weave seamlessly through precision-timed audio recordings, maintaining an otherworldly edge, with the heart of the show’s atmosphere lying in this live acoustic landscape.
Nestled in a sound-booth shell, musicians Beth Roberts and Joe Williams craft an exquisite, haunting musical tapestry that subtly binds the production together with folk-song elements, mingled with the crackles of terrestrial television and radio. With its stark monochrome palette splashed with visceral red, Rebecca Wood’s hypnotic design immediately removes the audience from reality, trapping us inside a space where myth and grief tangle. Kegode is an ethereal, compelling presence, delivering her rhythmic, poetic script with a magnetic grace that sits somewhere between Shakespeare’s Puck and a CBBC presenter.
Badgers, Traverse Theatre, until 30 August, times vary; picture: Paul Blakemore.