Normal

"Tell me, after my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from the stump of my neck?...that would be the pleasure to end all pleasures." These were the last words of serial killer, arsonist and rapist Peter Kurten as he mounted the steps to the guillotine on 2 July 1931 and they form the dénouement of Anthony Neilson’s claustrophobic and unsettling drama, Normal.

A tall order for any director, this complex and engaging piece directed by James Bruce Sinclair for Bedlam Theatre is not without its merits but unfortunately does not live up to its promises.

Normal is narrated by young lawyer Justus Wehner (Nick Kay) who is defending Kurten (Paddy Loughman). As Wehner tries to argue for the insanity of the ‘Düsseldorf Ripper’ he becomes morbidly fascinated with the killer, who seems to defy any psychological analysis as he projects back onto Wehner—and the audience—questions of morality, decency and what it means to be "normal" in the twentieth century.

The set fills the auditorium, enveloping the audience in what seems to be angular distortions of human flesh. At once claustrophobic and spacious, this serves to place spectators literally inside Kurten’s head and become unwilling voyeurs to the action. The constant feeling of unease is maintained wonderfully throughout with deranged fairground music drifting in and out, and interludes of manic choreography complementing Neilson’s sometimes rhyming, frenzied script. In one particularly noteworthy scene the audience is plunged into total darkness and Loughman’s brilliantly eerie and disturbing Kurten descends into the stalls to whisper and haunt every corner of the room.

Regrettably, it is after this point that the gleaming stage presence of the players seems to dull. Kay’s unconvincing depiction of the naïve lawyer in emotional and psychological turmoil undercuts the play’s otherwise engrossing nature and the next attempt at shocking the audience falls embarrassingly short of expectations in a long, drawn out murder scene. In trying but unfortunately failing to maintain the high level of tension needed for this piece Bedlam’s production is commendable but unremarkable.