Associate Dramaturg at the RSC, Production Dramaturg at the Globe et al Sarah Dickensen’s ambitious debut as a playwright is collecting standing ovations on an all-but-sellout stint in Exeter.
The tale of the tiny North Cornwall coast parish of Poundstock, its Gildhall and part in the Prayer Book Rebellion of 1549 is long—three hours—and wordy, with most of the uprising described rather than seen and much scene-setting to do in the first half before the village takes to arms.
Seven paid actors (all with SW connections) are accompanied by 43 locals, 17 of whom are choristers, as the journey to the brave but (spoiler alert) thwarted uprising unfolds.
Opening at Michaelmas 1546, the villagers are buoyant as the foundations for the long-planned church house (Gildhall)—a community building to accommodate brewing, baking and feasting to fundraise for the all-pervading church—have been completed. Plans and budgeting for the build are in train, and heartthrob master craftsman William Bligh (Alexander Dover) will be back as the weather dries to raise the walls.
The seemingly matriarchal (there is a great paucity of men on stage) society gets through the winter months with traditional mummery, Candlemass virgin and various Celtic traditions involving rope, bonfires and more, overseen by both an effigy of Mary and a living version who from time to time lurks expressionless in the background but whose purpose escapes me as I realised who she was rather late in the play.
The episodic play pivots around two strong women: sharp-witted and feisty oldster Mellyn Tom (Elaine Claxton), stalwart of the community and rebellion veteran having been on the 1497 march to Blackheath, and recent widow church warden Anne Orchard (Lizzy Watts), whose secret past is about to come back to haunt. Dickensen’s women are articulate, literate (at a time when only 10% of women were), numerate and own property, which one might think was unusual for the time. Grace (Chloe Endean), Anne’s lovelorn teenage ward, orphaned and with a fond eye for Bligh, is also centre-stage with a coming-of-age story impacted by the death of Henry VIII, the child king and religious flux.
As the Gildhall rises against the odds, religious turmoil ensues with edicts, delivered by noble nasty John Grenville (Elliot Liburd), that Latin is banned, prayers must be in English and the church treasures are to be forfeit to the Crown. Effigies must be smashed, religious artwork obliterated and all must change or be changed. With some villagers never having learned ‘Saxonage’ and their Cornish mother tongue and faith under threat, the last straw is reached, and the Poundstock mensfolk, led by martyr-to-the-cause parish priest Simon Morton (Ben Callon), join the discontented masses marching east from Sampford Courtney to the capital to make their point with the King.
Rather than any actions, letters from the front tell of the freeing of Plymouth, the stagnant siege of Exeter and the march to Honiton as the womenfolk hunker down to pray for all and sundry; menfolk return broken and bloody, if at all, as Grenville ties up the loose ends with spirits and necks broken, the village subjugated and the Gildhall repurposed.
Fi Russell’s set is simple wooden fare with multiple levels, bell pull and a rustic window through which the changing seasons are observed. The huge ensemble pervades the whole space, auditorium aisles and steps too, to swamp the audience as the fourth wall is often broken. Tickets include seats on stage for those who want to be completely immersed.
A story that should be told, a worthy community project, an original score and some fine harmonies under the directorship of onstage and player of myriad instruments musical director Ben Sutcliffe add up to what is clearly, from the standing ovations, a popular evening’s entertainment.