Review: Ragdoll, Jermyn Street Theatre

The story of heiress Patty Hurst is a distressing one. Heiress to a wealthy American family, she was abducted, raped and brainwashed at the age of 19, ultimately becoming part of the gang and assisting in violent bank robberies. Clearly traumatised and indoctrinated, she was initially sent to prison in an historic miscarriage of justice, before later being pardoned. Katherine Moar’s Ragdoll makes little effort to disguise that this is Patty’s story, merely changing the character’s name to Holly. Here, she meets her lawyer, Robert, who, 40 years later, now needs her help as he faces claims of inappropriate sexual behaviour. Ironic doesn’t begin to cover it. Throughout, some audience knowledge of the trial and the United States during that time period, with its celebrity lawyers and high profile politicians, can be helpful in pinning down references.

Initially we meet an older Robert (Nathaniel Parker) and Holly (Abigail Cruttenden) at Robert’s home, where straitened circumstances mean he must move out. The pair make great adversaries, with admirable performances from both actors, punctuated with moments of humour. Parker’s Robert displays a seam of smug self-assurance that he can’t shake off, despite now having his back to the wall, while Cruttenden gives Holly a flinty assuredness you can’t help but admire. 

The show then layers past and present, as events and times cross over and we hear the stories of their very different younger selves, enacted confidently by Katie Matsell as the naïve and excitable Heiress, and Ben Lamb as the devious Lawyer, with more interest in growing his own celebrity than with having respect for his client. The story of how Holly was abducted, raped, commodified and coerced is related with bluntness and clarity. It’s clear that this unsophisticated teenager is an easy target for manipulation – both from the political gang who kidnapped her, but also this devious, blundering lawyer: ‘Road Runner or Wile. E. Coyote?’ we’re asked.

Time slippage enables us to compare with clarity attitudes from the 1970s with those of the current day: have attitudes to victims altered since an era when women were encouraged to be subservient? How do we see the trial differently now? The characters’ behaviours from the past become integral to their future selves; Robert is now sliding into decline, while Holly is resilient and empowered. 

Ceci Calf’s set design sees a room filled with cardboard packing boxes: there’s a lifetime of earnings and recollections in there. Sometimes, opening one cleverly brings enlightenment as an old memory is given a new viewing. Centre stage is an imposing cream leather sofa, which we’re told cost $50,000. Holly is not allowed to touch it: Robert says it’s his albatross, but he loves it. It’s a blunt but effective metaphor – a symbol of how he benefited from her abuse and of her commodification.

This is a well-written story of perception, fact and fiction, but the play as a whole is a little lacking in visual texture. The sound and lighting are neat, but don’t add hugely to the drama or give definition to the temporal shifts. Of necessity, the action revolves around the sofa that takes up a large amount of stage space, limiting the potential for movement. The play is kept active by the well-performed argument that bats backwards and forwards between the cast, and a twist towards the end that satisfyingly brings the different perspectives into focus. 

Ragdoll is a tidy piece of writing with solid performances from a strong cast. It offers an opportunity to reflect on how potential futures might be formed by what we have chosen to do in the past. Cautionary indeed. 

Writer: Katherine Moar
Director: Josh Seymour
Set Designer: Ceci Calf
Costume Designer: Tom Paris
Lighting Designer: Jamie Platt
Composer & Sound Designer: Lex Kosanke
Movement Director: Anjali Mehra
Casting Director: Becky Paris
CDG Dialect Coach: Andrea Fudge
Voice Coach: Tess Dignan

Ragdoll runs at Jermyn Street theatre until Saturday 15 November.