This production of Wuthering Heights, adapted from the original novel by Emily Brontë, started well. The full cast were assembled onstage, flanked by a simple and pracitcal set, and developed a soundscape of the wind-brushed moors with particular effect. There was, however, some eerie, slightly ethereal, and occasionally out-of-tune, singing overlaid onto these sound-effects that rendered the cast's entire effort a little forced.
Overall, the production was patchy. Lottie Davis, as Nelly Dean, rose out of the still-smouldering ashes of the show as a phoenix, capturing the audience with her exquisite acting and reserved pathos. As a narrator she excelled, delivering her lines with enough authorial detachment whilst also allowing a way in for the audience to feel what emotion they could from this vaguely emotionless piece. She flitted between these two personas with great ease and dexterity - it was just a shame that the mechanics of the narrator in the script were not firmly established and so were taken over at times by the character of Lockwood, which often led to confusion.
The skill of a good adaptation resides in its plot having the ability to exist as a discrete entity from the plot of the original text. This production sadly does not meet this requirement. I am willing to hazard a guess that anyone unfamiliar with the source text would only have understood the bare minimum of events and would not have comprehended the deeper significance of the story's happenings.
There were elements of this production that were very good. For example, some of the direction was brilliantly executed; the blocking was, for the most part, well thought-out; and the sound effects were extremely good (if only the singing had been absent). The ‘puppetry’ advertised in the blurb, however, was definitely not worthy of the name, which is a shame because puppetry could have added so much to this production.
