Review: Manhunt, Royal Court Theatre

Based on a true story, Manhunt follows Raoul Moat, who, in 2010, shot 3 people, including his ex-girlfriend and mother to his children. Shocking, unnerving and frustrating, this feels particularly current, given its disconcerting portrayal of toxic white masculinity: an overused phrase if ever there was one. Staged using a mixture of traditional fourth wall set and live videography, the effect is both intimate and intimidating.

Samuel Edward-Cook as Raoul paces the set before the formal start of the performance behind a stage wide cage, clever lighting producing a monochrome effect. Skipping on his toes and pulling his hands behind his bald head, he is the embodiment of a caged animal. Live film simultaneously displayed against the opaque screen plays with perception, at times suggesting the virtual image is hugging the real or perhaps threatening him: the physical embodiment of his inner demons.

The play is initially set within the context of the social justice system, as a barrister challenges Raoul’s account in a court setting. He is facing a potential prison sentence for hitting one of his children. He denies it. But he is also constantly on the edge of overwhelming anger, which frequently spills into action. Objects are thrown; people are hit; he is sent down. His sudden bursts of aggression are unnerving and the audience recoil. Scenes with his girlfriend confirm his use of brutality, and his lack of accountability or understanding of reality. It’s a tough watch but feels real.

The performance captures his brutal actions following release from prison. More live videography allows a cinematic presentation to be played alongside the action onstage, and a particularly harrowing lengthy slot is played in complete darkness to the narration of one of his victims. It is without doubt the hardest sequence of the play to sit through. As the lights return, a change of setting heralds a long penultimate scene in which Raoul recounts his problematic childhood and is, at times, achingly eloquent in his self-analysis, although the set has an unfortunate nursery school feel when compared to earlier scenes.

Edward-Cook is outstanding in his portrayal of Raoul: a seething, effervescent mass of barely restrained violence. Forever misunderstood, he grew up without a father but with a bipolar mother. He is the epitome of the stereotype of fragile, angry masculinity and stirs feelings of uneasy sympathy in the audience. Genuine questions are raised about the impartiality and professionalism of the police force, and parallels are drawn between him and one of his victims as they struggle to find their place in the world. The rest of the cast, all of whom move between roles, are competent, but pale into insignificance against Edward-Cook’s power. Two child actors change the energy with their carefree appearances as his children, sibling, and younger self, and there is a particularly striking moment as both Raoul and the boy actor mirror each other with coordinated clothing and simultaneous grief.

Azusa Ono has created striking lighting throughout, which enables the change of medium from live staging to videography, to the slow release of light following a blackout. Robert Icke’s writing is sublime, inviting the spectator into a world that both challenges them and leaves them uneasy. But it is Edward-Cook who, inevitably, has the last word. Stepping forward at the end of the performance to break the fourth wall he eyeballs the audience one by one, challenging us directly. Well done, he says, You’ve listened to our story …But you still don’t like us, do you? You don’t want your sons to be us…” And the audience flinches, in recognition of the uncomfortable truth.

A powerful, challenging experience, Manhunt exposes the audience to the reality of the underworld of toxic white masculinity, simultaneously creating unease with and sympathy for the violent protagonist. The Royal Court, known as the writers’ theatre, once again delivers an intense, conflicting story designed to unsettle the spectator.

Written & Directed by: Robert Icke
Produced by: Royal Court Theatre and Sonia Friedman Productions.
Lighting Design by: Azusa Ono

Manhunt plays at Royal Court until Saturday 3 May.