My Cousin Rachel, often considered as the sister story to Du Maurier’s most prestigious work Rebecca, returned to the Gate last week, following a sell-out run earlier this year. Adapted for the Gate stage by Joseph O’Connor, the play centres around the life of Philip Ashley, on the death of his guardian Ambrose, and his tumultuous relationship with the ever-beguilling, and equally exotic Rachel. Rachel’s husbands, it transpires, keep dying myseriously, and Philip’s guardian Ambrose was the last one to bite the dust. Understandably perhaps, the pair’s first meeting is tangibly frosty, but Philip soon finds himself bewitched. Really, he should have plumped for the safe option, the trusty Louise Kendall, who is obviously besotted with him (and excellently portrayed by Amy Molloy). Alas, Philip does not take heed of the stern warnings from Louise’s father Nicholas, who soon bores of Rachel’s charms, nor of the cautions cast out from beyond the grave, by a wailing Ambrose. The first of these surreal episodes comes as something of a shock in the midsts of a play dealing in very real emotions. Indeed, the guitar accompaniment to Ambrose’s anguish initially feels a little abrasive. However, as these interludes become increasingly more frequent, and both the story and Philip’s sensibilities begin to unravel, they become all the more effective; the eerie rendition of God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman is utterly spine chilling. Indeed, there are real dark undercurrents at work here, more malevolent than shallow deception. There’s even something a tad Woman in Black about the play, perhaps borne from the striking stage presence Hannah Yelland commands as the vampish seductress.
And yet all this is interspersed with some classic one liners (“They’re great breeders, the Irish. Of horses I mean”) and some lovely, altogether more upbeat Christmassy sequences – perfect for the festive run. That’s not to trivialise any of the achievements of the play at all, however, and it really is a visual treat. The lighting in particular, is outstanding. When the servants open the shutters, and veritable daylight streams into the darkened theatre, the effect is nothing short of stunning. The set is great – the ornate living room is the perfect backdrop for a variety of dramatic stand offs, as the young Philip Ashley becomes the victim of his increasingly irrational decisions. Though initially, Philip had seemed two-dimensional and cumbersome, when enraptured with Rachel, suddenly he’s a virile (and pretty foxy) young man. Yet the main result of this awakening is an emotionally involved audience who are truly gutted when he makes first foolhardy decisions, and later catastrophic ones.
The rising sense of unease as created on stage, is no doubt one that Du Maurier would have approved of – for this is the kind of atmosphere prone to enticing the rash choices, and unprecedented behaviour she found so intriguing. The real merits of the play lie in its artfully executed escalation into something far more sinister than first expected. It’s of no real shock then, when the play closes, that the audience cast their minds back to poor Philip Ashley’s first cautionary monologue, and find themselves altogether spooked.
My Cousin Rachel is running at the Gate Theatre currently. Tickets are €25 – 35.
