Red Phoenix Theatre is doing a number of important things all at once, with its current season of Machinal. It has introduced us to an important piece of theatre from 1928, manifested a production at a quality level that would make the State Theatre Company envious, and reminded us that humans still have a way forward in this increasingly dumbed-down and overly-digitised world. I will start with the latter.
When cameras first arrived on the scene, there was some alarm among visual artists because the well-honed skills of faithfully rendering scenes and portraits were suddenly pitted against technology that could more accurately capture “the seen”. However, what cameras struggled to capture was “the felt”. With painting relieved of the “burden” of exact realism, new schools emerged like Impressionism, Expressionism, Symbolism, Post-Impressionism, and eventually wider modernist abstraction. I admit, this summary is a rather broad brush reflection, but the larger point I am making is that as humans we most readily connect to the emotional dimensions of art because, as neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Taylor argues, we are “feeling beings who think” (not the other way around as Rene Descartes would have you believe).
Of course, big budgets in Hollywood studios and Netflix, make it possible for the arts to recreate realism en masse and saturate our lives with it, but at the Goodwood Theatre, Red Phoenix Theatre has crafted a love letter to the human spirit. Expressionism is presented with respect and great aplomb with Sophie Treadwell’s script providing deft structure and bold writing, swinging from narrative to stream-of-consciousness, poetic monologue, and then director, Michael Eustice, has drawn together a company of players and designers who have astutely and passionately breathed life into a breathtaking piece of theatre.
If you are new to Expressionism, you might feel jolted at first, like sitting in a carnival ghost train as your little carriage is shunted into place in the dark before its thrilling journey. As with the sideshow ride, your best approach here is to embrace your seat and surrender to the joy, shock, humour, pathos, and despair the cast has in store. In fact, as audience members, we do best to not be impatient for story and resolution but rather to appreciate each exchange between characters along the way and emulate the early words of Jones, “I’m never in a hurry, that’s how I get ahead.”
The playwright was inspired by the real-life murder trial of Ruth Snyder. In late 1920s America, Snyder was a household name because she was executed, along with Henry Judd Grey, for murdering Ruth’s husband, Albert Snyder. Sophie Treadwell attended the trial as a journalist but refused to report on it, instead using the case to spawn Machinal.
The production team behind Machinal is priceless. Everything was slick, from scene changes (Stage Manager Lucy Johnson and team and cast should be in charge of road networks) to sound (Sean Smith has meticulously crafted our aural experience) to choreographed chaos (Lisa Lanzi had movement working like clockwork akin to the calibre of the written rhythms and verse) to costumes (Moira Moore has paid exquisite attention to detail, yes, we noticed). Of particular note is the lighting. From the deep ultraviolet blue during set changes to the immaculate use of spot lighting (Designer Richard Parkhill and Follow Spot Operator Mahendra Baker need knighthoods, or lighthoods) seemingly moves some scenes closer to us like masterful 3D trickery, thus illuminating and exemplifying the makeup and the detailed “expressions” on actors’ faces as heady scenes were played. This is what those elements of live theatre are for. Not tricks. Not look-at-me novelties. These elements merged at once with the actors and subsequently with us to hold our company spellbound for two hours that felt like one.
But what of the actors? From the outset, Telephone Girl (Laura Antoniazzi) led the mechanistic, claustrophobic office scene, setting up the unhuman structure of corporate power and processes, connecting with us (so to speak) as a representative of the human spirit doing its best to survive like shoots of green trying to emerge from cracks in concrete. Jones (Matt Houston) brought his whole self to the role as always, gliding amid his underlings like the predator in an aquarium. We wanted to despise him but it wasn’t that simple, then it was, then it wasn’t, as he blundered his way forward into a relationship with Young Woman (Kate van der Horst) who succumbed to his advances through a pragmatic reflection on the plight of women like herself in early 1900s America. The wordless utterance of despair, resignation, and anger at the end, was profoundly haunting and perhaps the star atop the Expressionist tree. The Young Woman’s mum (Sharon Malujlo) brought depth to a role that might have easily devolved into two-dimensional stereotype. However, her embodiment of the character, accentuated for our pleasure by the aforementioned lighting design, kept us close and things “real”, or at least the “expression” real.
All cast members had moments to shine, truly, with the Judge (Steve Marvanek) and Prosecution (Trevor Anderson) worth an extra mention for their sustained fireworks. Oh, and the ASMR with the evidence, it’s still with me. A wonderful addition like an unexpected trifle after a superb banquet.
Machinal is an antitote to all that is plastic, contrived, and obvious in the world. It demands a little work on our behalf, but pays that back in spades with the satisfaction of having had the chance to “know” some characters at a sub-narrative level. And, aside from the calibre of the production team and cast, much of this credit must go to Director, Michael Eustice, because he gets theatre. He lives and breathes it. But he also gets humans (which is the point). That’s why we got to experience luxurious moments of silence and stillness from time to time. Not pauses being counted out but real punctuation in thought and plot. They were natural and powerful and so rare in today’s millisecond society. Only a brave director does that in the age of the little black screen!
There are many themes woven through this story and I encourage you to explore them before the season ends.
Machinal, Red Phoenix Theatre, Goodwood Theatre & Studio, until May 30, 2026.
PS I feel it necessary in this age to stress that each meandering phrase in this review was handwritten with no AI in sight! It’s my own expressionism!