Eve Miller
The Hunger doesn’t shy away from the visceral, the carnal, or our basest instinct: to protect those we love, no matter what. A theatrical experience that will make your stomach churn, this production is undeniably impressive.
We meet Deborah and Megan, a mother and daughter living on a pig farm in rural Yorkshire, trying to survive the apocalypse with only themselves and the pigs for company. But as those infected continue to encroach on their territory, Megan’s desire for connection with the outside world becomes more and more dangerous. Even worse, she’s gone off her food. Their relationship spirals out of control as they push against one another’s moral boundaries, until the question of where the danger really is begins to surface. The script keenly cuts to the quick of violent, all consuming family relationships, deftly tying this theme to the meat industry and encroaching ecological collapse.
The performances are powerful, and the actors work together seamlessly, painting a harrowing portrait of a mother and daughter bond at the end of the world. Susan Jayne Robinson’s Deborah is harsh, commanding, and weather-beaten, ready to fight for her family at every moment. She is also terrified, smothering her daughter with a misplaced and overblown affection that is precisely delivered by Robinson. Hollie Burgess’ Megan is childlike and hopeful, willing to interrogate her world with a curiosity and determination that perfectly primes her for the inevitable horror to come. Both actors deliver the tall order of emotionality that the script requires of them with naturalism and commitment, drawing us into their emotional and physical world.
The design is immaculate. The food is genuinely stomach-churning (seriously, check the content warnings!), and the general dinginess of the set heightens the bleakness of the plot and themes. Corrugated plastic flats construct the back of the room, largely obscured by slapdash grey paint but with enough gaps to let the light through. A square table sits prominent, centre stage, ominously awaiting whatever meals are to come. The lighting is stark white and blood red by turns, only relenting into moonlit softness during Megan’s moments alone. These scenes with Megan alone talking to an unseen figure are the only moments that break the spell – the tension is created by the relationship between Megan and Deborah, and introducing this third presence dissipates it, leaving the script and the actors a mountain to climb as they rebuild it.
Intelligent, evocative, and guttural, The Hunger will stay with you, deep down in your stomach.
Drink recommendation: Whisky, neat.
You can catch The Hunger at theSpace @ Niddry St from 7-22 August at various times (75 mins). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Image Credit: Craig Fuller
Salvador Kent
Oli Fuller
Hannah Hamilton
