Rebecca

The Alhambra

IF you come to this play "blind", not having read Daphne du Maurier's much-loved mystery, this quirky adaptation will either whet your appetite or kill it stone dead. I can't decide.

Two elderly ladies sitting near me weren't impressed. "It's nothing like the book. It's more like a panto," muttered one. Both refused to clap at the end.

Purists may balk at this production, which floods du Maurier's dark tale of jealousy and secrets with rousing sea shanties, sex and humour, but I found it deliciously irreverent.

I've long been a fan of the novel but while it remains a cracking good read, a theatrical adaptation could end up looking creaky and dated. Kneehigh Theatre has given it a shot in the arm, with innovative staging and a fresh perspective, while retaining the eerie sense of suspense at the heart of the gothic mystery.

When Max de Winter brings his young bride to his grand Cornish home, Manderley, after their whirlwind honeymoon she soon realises that the memory of his first wife, Rebecca, is never far away.

Swamped in brooding lighting, Manderley hangs heavy with faded glory. The paint is peeling and the staircase is a mass of mangled iron, the letter "R" teasingly hanging overhead, and in the opening scene a wrecked rowing boat is lowered, turning into the house itself. Rebecca lies dead in the boat, out at sea, but she's forever intertwined with Manderley.

Against Leslie Travers' fabulous set, blending the grand old house with the nearby beach, the play unfolds, dream-like, drawing us into Mrs de Winter's haunting narrative. The call of the sea creeps through the house, choking it like ivy.

As our heroine sets out to uncover the secrets of the house, and Rebecca's mysterious death, we encounter brooding fishermen - ever watchful like a Greek chorus, or gods of the sea - and sinister housekeeper Mrs Danvers, played by Emily Raymond with quiet menace.

With trademark mischief, director Emma Rice goes off piste - scene-stealing turns from Katy Owen as a boyish footman, folk songs from the fishermen and a cheeky Charleston danced by the servants - and somehow it worked.

The ensemble music sequences wouldn't have worked without a terrific cast, comprised largely of actor-musicians. Imogen Sage got it just right as Mrs de Winter, gradually transforming from nervous innocent to a wife who takes control in more ways than one. Tristan Sturrock was a charming, haunted Maxim and Ewan Wardrop was a hoot as shallow playboy Jack Favell, appearing at the top of the staircase in a cloud of glitter.

There are laughs, gasps and neat theatrical tricks in this quirky production, but overall hangs the sound of the sea, whispering the secrets of the Cornish coast.

Runs until Saturday

Emma Clayton