Fred Fyles reviews Far Away at the Young Vic

Far Away by British writer Caryl Churchill makes its return to London in this production at the Young Vic. Beginning with a young girl who sneaks out of bed and ends a mere 40 minutes later with a world in turmoil, in between we have mediations on power, corruption, and danger, delivered at a breakneck speed by a confident cast of four, who traverse the simple set with a deft skill, making every moment look effortless.

Churchill is a difficult writer to take on, with her work ranging from the surreal – Top Girls begins with a dream sequence in which the protagonist meets famous women from history – to the impenetrable – her comedy about the stock market, Serious Money, is written in rhyming couplets. However, director Katie Hewitt takes a steady hand to the script, crafting it into a sharp-elbowed work that butts its way into your consciousness. It is little surprise that Hewitt obtained the funds to stage the performance by winning the JMK Award 2014, given to promising young theatre directors.

The staging is deliberately Spartan, but belies the complex mechanics occurring underneath: tables spring up from underground caverns, chains carrying fantastical hats stutter across the ceiling, and by the end several crater holes have been blasted in the floor. The cast tread these boards with finesse, particularly Samantha Colley, whose performance as Joan brings a strong physicality to the performance.

Describing a world of danger and mystery, the play is in three acts. In the first, a young Joan confronts her aunt, about what she has seen her uncle doing down by the shed. Her feet coated in blood, the girl enquires repeatedly: what were the screams she heard? Who were they loading into the lorry? Whose blood is it? First annoyed, then cautious, and ultimately deceiving, the aunt – played with a maniacal brilliance by Tamzin Griffin – manages to pull the wool over her niece’s eyes.

The next two acts continue in a similar vein, becoming slowly more surreal; now grown up, Joan finds work in a milliner, crafting hats for the ‘Parade’. Striking up a conversation with her co-worker, we learn about how the management of the factory is corrupt, that there are late night ‘Trials’ on TV, and that the hats they produce will ultimately be destroyed. It is only towards the end of this act that the chillingly horrific premise is hinted at.

In the final act, all three characters are brought together as the world unravels around them. All of nature, from the plants to the insects, the animals to the people, are turning on each other in a cacophony of violence, which culminates in a monologue delivered by Colley in which she speaks about her paranoia with a fierce clarity that never feels histrionic. This energetic conclusion forms the ending to the play, and leaves us wanting far more.

Ultimately, this is the main problem with Far Away: it offers us a glimpse of a mystical reality, invites us in, and then slams the door in our face. It may sound churlish to complain about the length of the script - after all, a great play should make you sad to have reached the end - but in this instance it feels like Churchill has not developed her ideas enough, and for me the play could easily have been twice the length; whether Hewitt would have been able to steer her cast for such a length of time remains unknown.

With its exciting script and water-tight direction, not to mention a cast who are able to burn holes in the stage with their acting talent, _Far Away _is well worth seeing. Perhaps a trifle short in length, the play nevertheless manages to cram in complex concepts, ensconcing them in an atmosphere of extreme paranoia and repression. Beginning with gentle birdsong, the audience leaves the theatre with shrill cries still ringing in their ears; all sorts of birds indeed...

Far Away runs until 29th November. Tickets start from £10