Writer: Herman Melville

Adaptors: Paul Graves and Angharad Ormond

Director: Angharad Ormond

Community theatre at its very best, this vibrant show would grace any theatre anywhere. It bubbles with energy and imaginatively evoked passion.

Herman Melville’s famous 1851 novel presents Ishmael (Tony Sears – compelling) signing up to sail from Nantucket on a whaling ship. Captain Ahab (Nick Hall – good) is on a personal mission to avenge himself on a particularly vicious whale, named  Moby Dick because he blames this animal for biting off his leg. Actually, of course, there’s a lot of metaphor here because in real life, whales are neither aggressive nor vengeful, and the calm, informative voice of David Attenborough at the beginning reminds us of this while the cast stands impassive behind a gauzy screen.

Authoritarian Ahab is fighting demons of his own, and this production stresses that he has a wife, “widowed when I married her”, and child at home. In modern parlance, he has mental health problems.

The delightfully clear storytelling makes rich use of imaginative physical theatre. When Ahab is beset by inner terrors, the white clad, heavily made-up female ensemble surrounds him menacingly to the sound of discombobulating violin and flute glissandi. As a whale is killed, the ensemble gasps, wilts and gradually falls to the floor, flooded with red light (excellent lighting design by Samuel Littley). Then one of the ensemble is suspended to represent a dead whale. It’s both ingenious and effective, and the whale bone crinoline frames worn most of the time by these women make a thoughtful statement. And how – in live theatre – do you create another ship coming alongside? The solution is neat, physical and convincing.

The set consists mostly of six big yellow oil drums, which, when turned to the audience, spell the ship’s name PEQUOD. It’s a versatile device. These drums are rolled about to suggest rough seas and inner torment. They are also used as acoustic drums in several different ways and, at one point, one becomes a blacksmith’s furnace for the fashioning of ever stronger harpoons.

Integrated into the piece is Colin Guthrie’s rather marvellous and near-continuous music. Led by Guthrie on accordion, it is played by seven actor-musos. It ranges from muscular sea shanties to folksy dance music to classical allusions and organ music for a quasi-funeral funeral, along with musical sound effects to connote disquiet or despair. It’s a rich score with some exceptionally impressive work from Kate Conway on violin, who rarely leaves the stage with her ethereal high notes, fine timing and evocative melodies. The piece also includes some strong whole-cast singing, especially when it starts from a solo and builds to full choral unaccompanied part singing at the end.

It’s a strong cast too, with particularly moving performances from Femi Davies as Ishmael’s charismatic friend and from Mayank Adlakha as Pip, the young crewman who is initially excited to be on board but gradually despairs – and suffers. Many minor characters emerge from the ensemble, and that’s done with witty aplomb and much skill.

It’s a pity this production uses brown, smelly, cough-inducing stage smoke instead of the usual dry ice, but it’s a minor gripe. Overall, this show is outstanding.

Runs until 6 July 2025