Controversial play Mercury Fur by Philip Ridley, directed by Danny Partington, follows the party planners of the apocalypse as they navigate love, connection, and morality at the end of the world.
Brothers Elliot (Samuel Blackhurst) and Darren (Samuel Carrera) have a massive night to pull off. In a world where violence and chaos have ravaged London, Elliot and Darren host nights of torture, fulfilling party guests’ most horrific fantasies and sacrificing children, known as the “Party Pieces”, for their clients’ entertainment. Alongside this less-than-ethical trade, Elliot deals in butterflies, the fictional hallucinogenic kind. Butterflies in the Mercury Fur universe come in a multitude of colours and corresponding effects, ultimately causing profound memory loss for their users.
Good-natured neighbour and butterfly addict Naz (Issac James) joins the group to help with the party setup in the hopes of gaining a butterfly in return. As anticipation for the big event grows, their ardent leader, Spinx (James Jarman), arrives with his Duchess (Michael Skellam), a blind woman who has been led to believe she is royalty, and things start to go wrong.
Philip Ridley’s Mercury Fur is brutal. Even the play’s earliest origins were marked by controversy, with publishers Faber and Faber breaking their deal with Ridley. It was said that ten audience members left each performance during its original 2005 run at Paines Plough. There was a general sentiment that the play was too cruel in its representation of abuse and its treatment of children. It is easy to understand why these reactions emerged, as decades later Mercury Fur remains nauseating and, at times, difficult to watch, raising questions as to whether the piece is simply sensationalist and exploitative, with dialogue full of speeches meticulously detailing murder and sexual assault.
However, this is not to say that the play should not exist, or that modern theatre companies should be forbidden from exploring difficult texts for fear of controversy. Marauders are bold for reviving this piece, fiercely seizing the intensity required to bring such a ferocious work to life. Arguably, Mercury Fur is not an expression of sadism; in fact, morality and love are at the centre of Marauders’ production. Elliot and Darren undertake their business of exploitation solely for survival, and to protect each other from that same violence. It is a vicious cycle that they contribute to, but ultimately they commit these awful acts out of love and a desire to keep each other safe. Darren, particularly, despite his memory loss, often returns to the stability of a heartbeat, reaching out to his loved ones’ chests in search of connection and humanity between them.
Edible butterflies are handed out at the door of the Kings Arms Theatre, a thoughtful and immersive touch that immediately draws the audience into the world of the play. Given how graphic and upsetting the themes explored in Mercury Fur are, clearer content warnings before entering the space would have helped audiences better prepare for the material ahead. Moreover, at times the cast spoke so quickly and without clarity that vital lines of dialogue were instantly lost, particularly during opening scenes when the foundation of the plot was being laid. A play so heavily reliant on dense monologues and complex world-building requires more space to breathe.
Samuel Carrera portrays Darren with an earnestness that lends the character a boyish naivety, despite the cruelty he becomes complicit in. At times, Darren seems to drift into delirium when confronted with the consequences of the gang’s actions, caught in a painful tension between his own morality and his desire to protect his brother and friends. Carrera’s vulnerability contrasts brilliantly with Blackhurst’s Elliot, who is brutal, snide, and relentless in his determination to satisfy the Party Guest (Daniel Waterhouse) with little more than a few cans of lager and a trashed, abandoned flat at his disposal. Waterhouse’s performance is deeply unsettling, grounding the production’s horrors in a chilling sense of realism and making the Party Guest feel terrifyingly tangible.
Michael Skellam’s Duchess initially appears almost like a camp rendition of Princess Diana, complete with oversized sunglasses and biting humour. Skellam brings a welcome sense of whimsy to the production’s otherwise oppressive atmosphere. Yet following the Duchess’s collapse and seizure, the performance shifts dramatically. Skellam delivers a devastating monologue, tears welling as the Duchess lies sprawled across the floor, hands outstretched in desperation for help, for family, and for the remnants of a former life. James Jarman’s Spinx complements this performance beautifully, oscillating seamlessly between the Duchess’ loyal companion and the gang’s ferocious leader, determined that nothing will stand in the way of the party taking place.
Marauders are incredibly brave for undertaking such a contentious and challenging piece of work, undeniably living up to their company motto of being “daring, devilish and dramatic”. Amidst the unrelenting cruelty of this world, Marauders portray genuine flickers of beauty: moments of profound connection and a desperate, aching yearning for softness and love between such brutal characters. However, because the production moves at such speed, these fragile human moments are ultimately glossed over too quickly, and important dialogue is lost, denying the audience the chance to feel their true emotional weight.
Mercury Fur runs at Kings Arms, Salford until May 29.
JADAR 