The wolves do not so much prowl as cascade. Having scampered to the treetops, they tumble down upon the helpless villagers in this creepy staging of Angela Carter’s full-blooded variation on Little Red Riding Hood. They seem to be everywhere: not only high and low on Laura Willstead’s frostily bare set, but also behind us, stationed at microphones to create unnerving sound effects or to add jarring narration to the action on stage.
In part, that is a reminder of the script’s origins as a radio play, written by Carter in 1980 after the 1979 publication of The Bloody Chamber, her collection of reworked fairytales. Co-director Theresa Heskins says she has done more of an edit than an adaptation and retains Carter’s rich gothic language and obsessive storytelling.
