Let me begin by saying that this story is very close to my heart. I first read the novel by Swedish author John Ajvide Lindqvist back in 2004 and since then, the book – or story – has stayed with me. I even wrote my master’s thesis on it. After finding out that The National Theatre of Scotland had made it into a production and that it was showing in London, I knew I had to see it.
The stage is covered with snow and we find ourselves in a birch forest with only a metal jungle gym and a lonely street light to indicate the time and place. It is the early 80s and Oskar (Martin Quinn) is being bullied at school. Neither his mother, teacher or class mates can give him the love and support that he needs and Oskar is therefore left to fend for himself. Outside, he lets out his rage by stabbing the trees with his pocketknife as he fantasizes about getting back at his bullies. He’s trying his best to bring control and power into a situation in which he is powerless. But then one night, he meets someone by the jungle gym. A strange girl named Eli (Rebecca Benson) has just moved in next door and the two of them find themselves intrigued by each other. But what Oskar doesn’t yet know is that Eli is a vampire, and although their friendship will give them new life, it will also take the lives of others.
Oskar (Martin Quinn) and Eli (Rebecca Benson)
Other reviews have mentioned and compared the two films (the Swedish film from 2008 and the American remake from 2010) with the play but the script is a combination of all previous forms of the story. The focus is on the relationship between Oskar and Eli, as it should be. Martin Quinn plays Oskar beautifully, making him socially awkward and shy which is a contrast to the original Oskar of the novel. He is clearly the victim and we sympathise with him throughout the play. Rebecca Benson as Eli is a different matter. Although I applaud her physicality, I do agree with some of the comments online that her voice and the way she delivers her lines is quite jarring. Eli is supposed to appear strange because she has lived in the world for so long and sometimes uses archaic language, but Benson’s low sing-song delivery just makes her come off as silly.
The rest of the cast is alright – or wooden at worst. Particularly Clive Mendus as Håkan, Eli’s protector, is among the weakest of the ensemble, unable to portray the love he has for Eli and how much the relationship means to him. I appreciate that the play touches upon topics which are either ignored or brushed over in the films, such as Håkan’s pedophilia as well as Eli’s gender ambiguity since she is actually a castrated boy named Elias. However, the play doesn’t manage to dive deeper into these waters and only occasionally dips its toes in there to test the temperature.
Ensemble
I am however delighted by the use of music and lights and how physical the play is. Whether it be the walk of a character or the choreographed scenes where Oskar stabs the trees in the woods pretending they are his tormentors, the physicality is spot on. Another point goes to the effects which for the most part are in the form of blood as throats are slit and bites administered to the necks of unsuspecting Nordic citizens. The blood oozing from Benson’s mouth – or indeed her hairline – was met with enthusiasm and approval by the teenaged audience around me.
If you are a fan of the Swedish film, I would recommend the play, but even more I urge you to read the original novel. Although the play has found the focus of the story, there’s so much more in there worth exploring, and I guarantee that you won’t be disappointed.
There is method in't 