Women Beware the Devil at the Almeida is a bafflingly bad production
A bad production at the Almeida is a rarity, all the more so when it’s directed by Rupert Goold. But modern morality tale Women Beware the Devil is bafflingly ill-pitched and dangerously undercooked.
It opens with satan introducing himself to the audience, lamenting that people don’t believe in evil like they used to – so what’s a devil to do?
So he whisks us back to the good old days of the 17th century, where we follow the schemings of Elizabeth, an aristocrat fallen on hard times who is willing to do anything – anything – to save her crumbling country estate, even make a deal with the devil.
Opportunity knocks when a servant girl is accused of witchcraft – perhaps the girl could be spared the gallows if she were to put her talents to use by securing the man of the house a wealthy bride…
What follows is a tonally bizarre play that pinballs between high camp and Jacobean tragedy, period drama and historical sitcom. The bumbling aristocrat Edward feels like he’s lifted wholesale from Blackadder, a pompous git with a penchant for sleeping with – or perhaps raping – the servants. He’s a figure of fun, a ridiculous caricature, but one who will occasionally punch a woman square in the jaw, leaving the audience tittering uncomfortably.
The young witch, a reluctant accomplice, is able to reassemble reality: bachelors wake up married, the rich wake up poor. Lulu Raczka’s serpentine play uses this device to muse on everything from the concept of goodness, to the impossible demands put upon women and the absurdity of men.
Women Beware the Devil feels like it’s forever on the cusp of making a great point but one never materialises, and no amount of theatrical razzle dazzle – of which there is plenty – can salvage the strangely hollow play that lurks beneath.