It is an inspired idea to present the Mystery Plays with the audience sitting on two sides of Chester Cathedral’s lofty nave. It is partly that the arrangement creates a striking theatrical corridor. Being long and thin, it is the ideal space for an enormous serpent to slither along after disrupting the tranquillity of Adam and Eve (Luke Hallam and Felicity Parry). It is just the right fit for a tablecloth around which the disciples can sit cross-legged for a last supper – as if their table stretched the length of a church. And it is big enough to accommodate the entire 200-strong cast for a rapturous curtain call.
But that is only half the story. With one bank of seating positioned so closely opposite the other, it also keeps this most democratic of theatrical traditions in the hands of the people. As our attention ping pongs from the stained-glass window at one end to the transept crossing at the other, we never lose sight of being part of an audience.
Perhaps it is not the rough-and-ready community expression of the medieval freemen and guilds who kept Chester’s ancient Mystery Plays alive until 1575 when they were shut down by government order. But this three-hour production, the largest regularly produced community theatre event in the UK, always feels rooted.
Director John Young does a tremendous job. The plays have been revived on a five-year cycle since 1951, the year of the Festival of Britain, a rhythm that itself seems part of the primitive wonder of these biblical tales. Young does nothing to dispel their archetypal appeal: Nick Fry and Becca Patch are as munificent playing a male/female God as Sarah France is weaselly playing fallen angel Lucifer. This is good versus evil in its most elemental form. The parables do not call for nuance and the director plays them straight.
What he does bring is a cracking pace, dynamic use of the space and a fluid, dreamlike blending of stories that take us, ambitiously, all the way from the creation to the crucifixion, then on to the last judgment. As well as sure and steady acting in the pivotal roles, Young draws forth ferocious performances from the community company, be it their wailing indignation at Herod’s slaughter of the innocents or their bloodcurdling calls for the death of Jesus.
That part is played by Duncan Crompton as a messiah who takes his earthly responsibilities seriously. He is austere and intense, whether performing a spontaneous miracle or accepting his fate at the hands of the mob. Maybe not someone you’d go for a drink with, but if he were a politician you would certainly trust him with your vote.
The script has been adapted by Young from the 1987 version by Edward Burns. It is heavy on the rhymes and poetic flourishes, and contains nothing even the most censorious of clergy would want to ban. That includes the knockabout interludes involving Noah’s sceptical wife (Naomi Goulding) refusing to get on the ark, and the three shepherds (Rachel Quayle, Sarra Cooper and Claire Smith) being star-struck by the baby Jesus. More typically, the script ditches the earthy comedy associated with the Mystery Plays in favour of something direct and devout.
The production does the same. The thunderous sonic waves created by sound designer Kieran Lucas are intensified by a score by Matt Baker that, despite its diversions into bosa nova and gospel, has a forceful choral majesty. As designer, Jess Curtis cleverly enriches the colour palette as she graduates from off-white angels in long-sleeved smocks to the forces of evil in crimson tunics. Lighting designer Aaron J Dootson adds to the sense of the dramatic as he builds from subtle emphasis to rock’n’roll brashness in a rich and confident staging.
