Sean Burnett Dugdale-Martin
After their grandmother passes away, a child suspects they are being pursued by the smoke demon shapeshifter of the old woman’s stories. The Griegol is a dark fantasy in the vein of Spirited Away, for older children and adults. Combining hi-fi with lo-fi technology, and the mythic with the everyday, The Griegol is a charming, moving, and wildly inventive piece from Trick of the Light Theatre.
Entering into the Hannah Playhouse, The Griegol set strikes me almost like a travelling theatre show from olden times. A worn, wooden contraption with the markings of a special build, with its camera rigs on bars above it and wide, deep slots for bits and pieces, sits to the left of the stage. A large, off-white screen detailed with black, patterned fabric you might see a shawl made of looms centrestage, and to the right is a live-foli nest where a musician (Tristan Carter) recreates slurps, whistles, and string music for the scenes as they happen.
The stage design of the show gives the impression of an ancient, well-reputed travelling thespian band. Watching the team toil at their wooden projector wagon adds to the illusion of craftspeople concocting their story. The Brechtian nature of having the show's dynamics on full display doesn’t detract from its story and only enhances the heart present with it. With a stage design that has so much character I would say that it, with its crew inhabiting it, is a character in itself: the band of thespians. Their simple tricks to have the play become bigger than what is on, and in front of, a screen will blow you away.
It’s hard for me to confidently delineate people's roles in the programme from the physical aspects they are responsible for but huge props must be given to the entire team: director Hannah Smith, composition & sound design Tane Upjohn Beatson, lighting design Rachel Marlow, technical design Brad Gledhill, and set and costume co-design by Sylvie McCreanor and the late Rose Kirkup whom the team shared a poignant moment for after the production to honour the memory of.
The story itself is very Tim Burton with its creepy/sweet nature and its monochromatic colour scheme (aside from some key moments). It’s about a child reckoning with grief with their single father- a simple story done extremely well. It’s elevated with the effort of its crew and by having us see how much hard work goes on to tell the story, the more it all means. To see these people rush between stations, issue quiet commands, and trust their tech, all seems to make the story matter so much more because we know how much sweat goes into putting it on.
The performances happen either in front of a screen with a setting projected onto it or behind the screen with shadows. The child around whom the story revolves is a puppet (helmed by Stevie Hancox-Monk and designed by Jon Coddington) with their father (Paul Waggott) and both are accompanied by Elle Wootton and Ralph McCubbin Howell in other, minor roles. The choice of puppetry for only one of the ensemble is accepted quickly and feels cohesive with the style of the rest of the production. The physicality of the puppet is at times exaggerated and almost cartoonish which honestly evokes more of a Burton-esque feel. It shivers, it jumps, it quakes, it walks like something out of Coraline (which I know isn’t Burton but it feels of the style). The puppet cat was a wholesome touch as having the child and cat both be made of felt gave the impression that they had a special connection (spoilers: there is a cat).
The Griegol is a hard-working, heartfelt masterclass in style. It knows what it is, it knows what it wants to be, and it’s magical to see something so slick come to life. After the show they invite audience members to come up and see how they made the show and many of the kids in the audience no doubt are curious to see the machine that brought the magic alive in front of them.
For more information on the season that was, and to find out more about Trick of the Light, visit their website.
The stage design of the show gives the impression of an ancient, well-reputed travelling thespian band. Watching the team toil at their wooden projector wagon adds to the illusion of craftspeople concocting their story. The Brechtian nature of having the show's dynamics on full display doesn’t detract from its story and only enhances the heart present with it. With a stage design that has so much character I would say that it, with its crew inhabiting it, is a character in itself: the band of thespians. Their simple tricks to have the play become bigger than what is on, and in front of, a screen will blow you away.
It’s hard for me to confidently delineate people's roles in the programme from the physical aspects they are responsible for but huge props must be given to the entire team: director Hannah Smith, composition & sound design Tane Upjohn Beatson, lighting design Rachel Marlow, technical design Brad Gledhill, and set and costume co-design by Sylvie McCreanor and the late Rose Kirkup whom the team shared a poignant moment for after the production to honour the memory of.
The story itself is very Tim Burton with its creepy/sweet nature and its monochromatic colour scheme (aside from some key moments). It’s about a child reckoning with grief with their single father- a simple story done extremely well. It’s elevated with the effort of its crew and by having us see how much hard work goes on to tell the story, the more it all means. To see these people rush between stations, issue quiet commands, and trust their tech, all seems to make the story matter so much more because we know how much sweat goes into putting it on.
The performances happen either in front of a screen with a setting projected onto it or behind the screen with shadows. The child around whom the story revolves is a puppet (helmed by Stevie Hancox-Monk and designed by Jon Coddington) with their father (Paul Waggott) and both are accompanied by Elle Wootton and Ralph McCubbin Howell in other, minor roles. The choice of puppetry for only one of the ensemble is accepted quickly and feels cohesive with the style of the rest of the production. The physicality of the puppet is at times exaggerated and almost cartoonish which honestly evokes more of a Burton-esque feel. It shivers, it jumps, it quakes, it walks like something out of Coraline (which I know isn’t Burton but it feels of the style). The puppet cat was a wholesome touch as having the child and cat both be made of felt gave the impression that they had a special connection (spoilers: there is a cat).
The Griegol is a hard-working, heartfelt masterclass in style. It knows what it is, it knows what it wants to be, and it’s magical to see something so slick come to life. After the show they invite audience members to come up and see how they made the show and many of the kids in the audience no doubt are curious to see the machine that brought the magic alive in front of them.
For more information on the season that was, and to find out more about Trick of the Light, visit their website.