Note - I saw this in early previews ahead of press night.
Robert Icke’s first original commission, and first appearance at the Royal Court, is a violent investigation of the true life story of a man in the North of England who was wanted for assault and murder, resulting in the longest manhunt in UK history.
In spite of its ties to real life, Icke’s production exists initially in a no-space; there is concrete and sliding doors reminiscent of a prison, but the space is stark white, wide open, and containing only collapsible furniture. It evokes feelings of a world you can’t trust, wherein characters and timelines overlap, move in and out of space, and even the furniture isn’t solid enough to trust. This quickly becomes potent when the central character Raoul (a brilliant Samuel Edward-Cook) loses control of his temper, throwing furniture across the space. The eruption of violence from this man is what we’re meant to expect — but Icke’s clever creation of an uncertain and untrustworthy physical space causes us to question the conditions that created this man.
That isn’t to say that the misogyny and violence of the central character is excused - indeed it is on display like a zoo animal at feeding time, ready for us to consumer and consider, but from a safe distance. Icke has Edward-Cook address the audience directly at times, quite surprisingly and as an affront, a consistent reminder that we’re watching this play out. We all know how it ends, yet are here to watch. Simple yet effective use of camera footage on specific heightened moments remind us of how our experience of these events is normally mediated, through a screen.
In a time when the conversation is ever more focussed on how society is failing young men by allowing them unfettered access to the dreaded “manosphere” and a dearth of positive role models and relationships, in the face of increasingly positive outcomes for their female counterparts, this play is necessary, it is urgent. While Netflix’ adolescence interrogates the knock on effects on those around a young boy who commits such an act, Manhunt holds more than the immediate family accountable — it is society as a whole who need to improve, yet Manhunt suggests no simple solutions. This play does not sit back and safely assess, but rather dives into the deepest end, without a life jacket. Well worth watching, but more importantly, worth reckoning with as individuals and as a wider society.