Fear is so much in the air these days, not least in the build-up to USA elections (will Trump’s fear-based electioneering be trumped by fear of Trump himself?), that it is almost impossible not to sense an allegorical resonance in Jett Ranchhod’s “what happened next” take on The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mister Hyde.  

This play, Hyde – set in 2016 London – presupposes we are familiar with Robert Louis Stevenson’s Victorian gothic horror novella (not to mention Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray and the actual but unsolved ‘Jack the Ripper’ murders) so a quick swot-up may be in order if you are to fully appreciate the references and lineage. Although a summary is stitched in towards the end, I’d suggest being au fait on the way will be more rewarding.

The premise is that Uttersoncorp has been set up to find and kill Hyde, on the presumption that Edward Hyde – into whom Dr Henry Jekyll had permanently morphed – has neither been executed nor killed himself, and therefore remains immortally alive. The driven Dr Lincoln Andrews (Karl Hewlett), affectionately known as “Linc” (get it?), is in charge.

Elijah Gabriel Utterson (Martin Tidy), descended from Dr Jekyll’s lawyer Gabriel John Utterson, is destined to take over and when he does, he becomes increasingly obsessed with “protecting the innocents and banishing evil” in a way that tellingly achieves the opposite. Also on the Uttersoncorp team is Alexis Grey (Lilia Askew).

Meanwhile the driving purpose for Hyde (Jett Ranchhod) – who is a shadowy figure until the end of Act One – is to destroy Uttersoncorp. As ever, their mutual enmity gives each a reason for being, and the sense of emptiness involved in finally achieving such a goal is insightfully articulated toward the end. There are abiding wisdoms within the play even if it falls short of excellence in the execution.

As AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ fades out, the play opens with orthopaedic surgeon Genevieve Bishop (Charlie Potter) setting up its ongoing enquiry into the dualities inherent in all humankind. Her love for Dr Harper Jackwill (James Bayliss) has, she tells us, created a monster. Cross-fade into her interview at New Scotland Yard with D I William Spencer (Grant Beban) and D S Bradley Shaw (Helen MacKenzie) which in turn takes us back to the time she first noticed Harper “stopped being himself”.

Harper and Genevieve are part of a trauma unit at Whitechapel General Hospital, along with Hayden Lansberg (Dominic Francis) and Alistair Enfield (Hamish Boyle). The patient they are operating on has been stabbed – and this becomes the first (I think) homicide case, although sometime later 10 murders are mentioned and for some reason one or all are considered “cold” by Spencer in what feels like false dramatic conflict to me.

Despite the screening of locations, dates and times, and noir film sequences shot in Wellington’s dark alleys, I have to confess to becoming quite confused as to exactly what has happened when and to whom, vis a vis the actual murders.

It does become apparent that Harper Jackwill is our latter-day Henry Jekyll, possessed of the Hyde alter-ego. His close friend Noah Pond (Hugo Randall) is a medical researcher and works at developing an antidote to the one Henry Jekyll experimented with, which presumably has infected Harper.

It all plays out in short filmic scenes that demand our concentration and sometimes deliver moments of truth. Thanks to Dr Lincoln Andrews’ insistence that his staff are highly proficient at swordplay (represented by black and silver sticks), there are some impressive fight scenes and stunts, choreographed by writer/ director/ actor Jett Ranchhod – although it’s clear that they’re working in a way that would be enhanced on screen with judicious angles and Foley sound effects.

The cast work hard and some moments – especially with Martin Tidy’s Elijah Utterson towards the end – are powerfully dramatic. Too often, however, poor articulation or projection undermines our understanding. Overall a lack of flow and clarity makes it difficult for us to tune into the essence of the story by willingly suspending our disbelief, empathising with the characters and being confronted with the dualities within ourselves.

While the setting in London is of course valid, all but English-born Tidy use their natural New Zealand voices, which is preferable to bad attempts at English accents. It does make me muse, however, on whether migrating this contemporary Hyde and the ever-pursuing Utterson group to New Zealand had been considered. Just a thought.

Objectively and in retrospect I can see there are insightful and timely points being made about the good/evil duality; about how fear and obsession can produce and escalate the very thing we are trying to defeat. Quite a bit of script and production development is needed, however, for Hyde to realise its potential.

(Comparisons may be odious but it should be noted that a similar fascination with these themes and genres has emerged recently with A Slightly Isolated Dog’s Jekyll & Hyde last year, and Te Rēhia production of Albert Belz’s Yours Truly this year.) 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer