On the cusp of adulthood, a trio of disparate school friends have hiked out deep into the Northumberland forest to celebrate a last hurrah before going their separate ways in the world. Wild child Amelia (Mimi Millmore) is set on having a wild party, drinking booze and snapping pictures with her digital camera. Poppy (Madeleine Farnhill) is the no-nonsense, self-imposed leader with a commandeering streak and fiercely defensive, while timid and forgetful Lauren (Ellen Trevaskiss) is the more neurodiverse, distracted, and certainly odd-one-out of the bunch.
However, as soon as the trio arrive in their secluded camping spot and disturb a strange bird’s nest, things begin to go wrong. Tensions, secrets and old recriminations begin to come out as tempers rise and forgotten bags, strange sounds and uncomfortable truths begin to weigh on them. And something or someone out there in the woods seems to be watching them.
The grand tradition of British folk horror is always a great setting within which to set a story. Farnhill’s play takes that tradition and skews a modern slant on it. Smartly, it also ticks back the clock a decade, as evidenced by the digital cameras and flip phones; this isn’t yet today’s modern era of 5G, GPS apps and ubiquitous smart tech. It also portrays an era in which neurodiversity and queerness weren’t as recognised as today but still plays on timeless fears of stalkers, nature and society's obsessive scrutiny and judgement of women.
It’s a nicely ratcheting piece, where the tension and paranoia spirals slowly from the start, building as the events creep from irked fun into frightened dread. It also takes some inventive steps with unusual fourth-wall choices, such as in the first half of the piece, when characters climb into the tent to rest, the actor instead of sleeping sits inside and balefully glares at the other pair in an unnerving and unnatural manner.
Although this is where issues creep in, as this is a choice that isn’t maintained later, or paid off in any sense. Similarly, the ending, while thematically resonant, feels like it comes slightly unprovoked as if all the threads haven’t quite woven together. Similarly, while the characters are all well-established and brilliantly acted, it never quite gels that these three are friends, and it takes the play too long a time to establish the relationships clearly.
That said, this is a creepy and fearsomely feminine piece of new folk horror which will definitely satisfy those looking for something unsettling this Fringe.