Salomé Review: “A story of lust, obsession and fatal desire”
“Evie Chandler’s adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s play Salomé offers an ambitious and compelling adaptation that works in its favour.”
The character of Salomé has a long history: originating from the Bible, she eventually makes her way into Oscar Wilde’s play about fatal desire, decadence, and the consequences of looking. When I heard that this year’s ADC adaptation of Salomé would take on a radical approach by transforming Salomé into a drag performer against the backdrop of a cabaret club, I was intrigued to see how this would play out.
Despite the play being only one hour long, I found that it was the perfect length to capture the essence of the show: intense, abrupt and impactful. The intimacy of the Corpus Playroom embodied the intensity of the play itself, enabling the actors to interact with the audience. From Salomé's subtle looks and gestures, to the wine spilling out of Herodias’ cup onto the floor during their confrontation, I felt drawn in at every step.
Subverting Salomé's character into a drag performer, Chandler authentically explores the depths of Salomé's impulsive and unrelenting behaviour. Problems of self-identification and perception add narrative complexity, justifying Salomé's desperation to seek salvation and the distortion of this desire into obsession. It also makes her unrequited desire more tragic and impactful as opposed to the original.
Toby’s portrayal of Salomé was electrifyingly captivating. His abrupt entrance onto the stage, straight into a dance sequence, was brilliantly executed. The gestures, his finger snaps and head rolling to the music, portrays Salome’s confidence and admiration of her own body, making an explicit contrast with how Salomé feels about herself offstage. Through Toby’s subtle actions -the slow gliding of feet and drawn-out arm movements, the lingering and despairing glances at Jonathan- a sense of eagerness and despair builds up, culminating in borderline psychosis. His rendition of Salomé's “Dance of the Seven Veils” is the main highlight of the show. While taking his time to build up the act, Toby effortlessly elevates the dance from sultry and sensual to bold and erratic, making the whole sequence mesmerising to watch.
“Herod’s character, magnificently embodied by Reuben Rackham, expresses the decadence and incestuous obsession that envelops the play.”
Herod’s character, magnificently embodied by Reuben Rackham, expresses the decadence and incestuous obsession that envelops the play. Having expected a controlling and rigid stepfather, Reuben's Herod felt somewhat comedic at the start. His reaction to the dead body and his interactions with Herodias, surprisingly worked as a touch of comedic relief amidst the uncomfortable and despairing atmosphere. The constant ruminations and senseless, repetitive references to the moon, the fluttering wings of the angel of death, and the foretelling of misfortune compellingly conveyed his torment. His lecherous looks towards Salomé during her dance sequence, despite his fear of omens and the preacher's warnings, were reminiscent of Judge Frollo’s lustful desire for Esmerelda in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Daisy Bates’s performance of Herodias as an unsympathetic and cold but proud mother reinforced the dysfunctional dynamic of the characters. Her contempt towards the preacher, her praise of Salome’s command to decapitate Jonathan, and her emotionless demeanour towards Salomé’s necrophilic behaviour, brought out the immorality of the whole situation.
While the patron (Sophie Orr) and doorman (Enya Crowley) also delivered incredible performances, I felt that their characters could have been explored further. In particular, the patron’s suicide fell short in its pacing, playing out abruptly compared to the rest of the exposition. Additionally, the mixing of pronouns when addressing Salome was confusing at times. The preacher calls Salomé, “Son of Babylon, Child of Sodom”, which I interpreted as a confrontation of Salome’s conflicting identity as a drag performer. However, some characters at the start warn others, “Do not look at him”, while Herod and Herodias make reference to “her” and “my daughter”.
The costume design of the characters was impressive - I loved the red blazer paired on top of the black dress for Herodias, and the ornate headpiece Salomé wears in her dance. I also thought the creative decision to orate Johnathan's sermons through the speaker was ingenious, despite the technical blips at the start.
The final scene of Salomé clutching Jonathan’s head as it bleeds out onto the floor is grimy, disturbing, and tragic all at once. Capturing the flawless execution of distorted beauty in the show, it definitely lingers on in the viewers’ minds for the rest of the evening.
Salomé is on at the Corpus Playroom until Saturday 11th May.