The story of Joseph Merrick is a familiar one. It’s been told many times on stage – and most famously in the film The Elephant Man, when Merrick was portrayed by John Hurt. However, this production argues, all those accounts are at least partly fictional; so this new script sets great store by strict historical accuracy, and the support of Merrick ’s biographer Mae Stroshane.
This pursuit of veracity sees the play embark on a chronological run-through of Merrick’s life, from his first meeting with his doctor, Frederick Treves, to his unexpected death. The opening scene is highly effective: the initial consultation enables a natural-seeming discussion of Merrick ’s medical condition, his family history, and the story of his freak-show days. But from there the show becomes more didactic as it takes us through the remaining events of Merrick’s life – including his return to the freak-shows and abandonment in Belgium, his rescue by Treves, and the charitable donations and friends in high places that finally gave him a comfortable life.
The problem is, though, that there’s only so much we can glean about a life through historical facts alone. They can’t tell us about what it was like to be Merrick. That’s surely an important facet to the story and we only gain glimpses of it here, when we see his frustration at not being able to earn a living, or to get to know a woman and have a normal life.
The best aspects of the play are the strong performances from Tony Carpenter and Philip Hutchinson. I was pleased to discover that Merrick’s deformities were not represented by any prosthetics: instead, Carpenter characterises Merrick’s physical problems with physical acts, his face contorted, his arm held stiffly and each movement awkwardly performed. It’s entirely convincing and maintained throughout, and the lack of distracting prosthetics enables the audience to see the humanity behind Carpenter’s performance – evoked with a humility that disguises a firm will.
As Treves, Philip Hutchinson (who is also the playwright) subtly conveys decency and good sense, half-hidden behind a brusque manner and bustling practicality. But I was less convinced by the reliance on video clips and voiceovers to portray other characters, particularly when Carpenter as Merrick had to interact with figures on screen. Especially in small-scale productions, an over-reliance on technology can hamper the flow of the play – and there is always the risk of a glitch, as occurred right at the end.
As a straightforward biography then, Mr Merrick can be judged a success: the acting is excellent and we learn much more about his life, especially his relationship with the kindly but patriarchal Treves. It’s possible though that loosening the strictures of sticking to established facts, the play could imagine more effectively what it was like to inhabit Merrick’s world.