Some Demon at Bristol Old Vic’s Weston Studio – review

Laura Waldren’s burgeoning career began as an actress, trained in Bristol, so it feels fitting that her debut Papatango Award-winning play Some Demon, is getting a run in the Weston Studio, following its launch at the Arcola in London. It’s a work that suggests a major talent, one of my plays of the year to date, and a reminder that many writers trod the boards before they penned their major works.

Set in an eating disorder clinic, the play focuses on two protagonists, 18-year-old Sam, off to Hull in September, to study psychology, and 40-something Zoe, whose life has ground to a halt, her illness destroying her both physically and spiritually. These two act as ying and yang to the varying responses to ending up in this clinic. Sam’s original uncomprehending looks at finding herself here mixed with Zoe’s matter-of-fact, seen-it-all-before treatment of morning check-ins, it is only in her preoccupation with the cereal on the floor that we see the hyper fixation that each of these women can’t escape from.

Waldren doesn’t shy away from the graphic depictions that the illness presents but she balances this with touching moments of camaraderie that the women resolutely provide each other in supporting tackling an illness that isn’t recovered from in a straight line. Moments of insight and breakthrough are followed by relapse, but these characters keep pushing on, each engaged in their lifetime battle that experts state affects around one in ten of the population.

This is a play that in construction harks back to the past and the two-act, well-made play produces an evening that gives space to examine each of the characters in three dimensions, addressing complexities in a system that isn’t perfect. Lack of funding isn’t ever explicitly mentioned but always lurks behind the surface, and the piece finds a vein of humour that keeps it from plunging into the abyss.

It may be Zoe who becomes the play’s focus, but each character is given a backstory and space to explore. It means that we come to care about them, understand their angst, forgive when they fall back into old routines, and acknowledge the intricacies of resentment that can occur in fellow patients when others are on their path to recovery.

Waldren’s text is loaded with well-constructed jokes and David Byrne’s vocals buffer on the radio but in the studio space at Bristol Old Vic, George Turvey’s production brings out the acting in super-high definition.

As Zoe, Sirine Saba is compelling, the top dog of the unit, ready to bring newbies under her wing, while hiding from view how deeply entrapped she is in a lifetime of bingeing and purging, an incident with her niece playing repeatedly in her head, the shame stopping her from moving forward in life. It’s a moving and expertly delivered performance, one that is worth the price of a ticket alone. Recent graduate Hannah Saxby is all teenage self-righteousness and innocence in the role of Sam, acting as a surrogate to the audience as she encounters a world of regulated meals and ‘parish meetings’ for the first time.

The whole ensemble shines, from Witney White whose need for exercise means she never stops tapping her leg, to Leah Brotherhead who portrays the two faces of the same coin going from enclosed explosiveness to a composed kindness as she begins to see a future that time in the clinic has provided her. As the two nurses, Amy Beth Hayes and Joshua James show us the patience and care that go into looking after the unwell, Hayes with a deliberate professional standoffishness, James with kind words and a personal understanding that things can get better, that is jeopardised when he tries to connect to one of his patients.

Some Demon does that thing all great plays do: it leaves debating its points while you exit the theatre. A knotty play with no easy answers perhaps, but it is one that shows the humanity behind the illness. This isn’t just a strong debut play, this is an excellent work full stop, and one that confirms Waldren as a talent going places.