The Girl On The Train

Laura Whitmore and Ed Harrison in The Girl On The Train. Image uncredited.

****

A remix takes a song then delivers an entirely different version. The same might be said when it comes to different directors and different casts. If you had the pleasure of seeing 2019’s The Girl On The Train you might think there's no need to see it again. You’d be mistaken, especially if you like plays focused on issues. Yes, it's still a story about a damaged woman whose relentless alcoholism leaves blackouts in her memory and who may, or may not, know something about a missing woman later found murdered. But under Loveday Ingram’s direction, emphasising psychological depth over narrative thrust, focus shifts from a noir styled whodunnit to a deeper character study of abused, gaslit and abandoned women. In which Laura Whitmore as anti-hero/victim Rachel, cements her reputation as an actress with serious talent. In a pacy production where the gender dice are loaded.

Laura Whitmore in The Girl On The Train. Image uncredited.

Not that The Girl On The Train is without suspense or tension. Under Ingram’s guiding hand it leans heavily into Hitchcock psychological thriller territory. Marnie (1964), and Spellbound (1945) immediately spring to mind. Tense thrillers where the blurred line between fantasy and reality, memory and fact dominate over actual events. If, in Spellbound, Hitchcock had the inimitable Salvador Dali design the dream sequences, Ingram is reliant on Adam Wiltshire's three screen set with intermittent projections to convey Rachel’s deeper psychological states rather than a realist frame. Most effective during scene transitions, often choreographed to suggest a moving train. Wiltshire’s set, aided by Jack Knowles darkened lights, Elizabeth Purnell’s evocative sound and Paul Englishby’s tense score giving the great Dadaist a run for his visual money, with raindrops on windows evoking Matrix like data. Or moments which might be memories, fantasies or projections from the darker recesses of Rachel’s mind. A woman drunk and in pain, harassing her ex-husband and his new wife, Anna, whilst struggling to discover what happened to the missing Megan, a woman she saw from a train in who she detects echoes of herself.

Laura Whitmore in The Girl On The Train. Image uncredited.

Whilst impressive, Ingram’s emphasis on the psychological comes at a price. Most notably narrative, whose adaptation from the novel has more holes than a sieve. Based on the best selling novel by Paula Hawkins and the DreamWorks film of the same name, adapted by Rachel Wagstaff and Duncan Abel, weak contrivances soon overplay their hand. Along with characters telling rather than showing. Steeped in the conventions of storytelling theatre, characters often over monologue exposition. In which gender imbalance evokes male gaslighting as a foundational strut and the cause of everybodies ills. While you certainly buy it in the stone smashing scene, not enough work is done throughout for it to convince as the explanatory device for the entire play.

Laura Whitmore and Freya Parks in The Girl On The Train. Image uncredited.

Meaning that when it comes to performances the women have it. The men not so much as the script coerces sympathy for its problematic, central character. Against which Zena Carswell as long suffer wife and mother, Anna, proves superb. As does Freya Parks as the Bohemian artist Megan; Parks and Carswell vividly alive as detailed characters. In contrast, Daniel Burke’s conflicted psychiatrist Kamal, Samuel Collings’s one tone Scott, and Ed Harrison's charmless Tom serve as stereotypes rather than people. Even Paul McEwan as DI Gaskill, overplaying a Northern English accent, offers little of substance to play against as the play’s only gay character. Strikingly contrasted with a superb Laura Whitmore who dazzles as the troubled Rachel. But actors need reactions to feed off and Whitmore is often deprived of something of substance when playing against the men onstage. Left relying on stagey devices and cleverly executed transitions initiated by the swirl of a coat. Indeed, never has a character swigged at a bottle way past the point of it looking convincingly natural. Even so, Whitmore’s sensitive performance and charismatic presence carries the day, with Carswell and Parks bringing up the rear and ensuring an irresistibly entertaining production. Whitmore unquestionably its star. Matched by some slick staging and stunning visuals.

The Girl On The Train, based on the best selling novel by Paula Hawkins and the DreamWorks film, adapted by Rachel Wagstaff and Duncan Abel, in a Melting Pot Productions and Josh Andrews presentation of a Wiltshire Creative Production, runs at Bord Gáis Energy Theatre until August 30.

For more information visit Bord Gáis Energy Theatre