A troubled police officer, a desperate 999 caller and an exceptional sound design all collide in this atmospheric new thriller from Chloë Moss, which brings The Guilty from the big screen to the intimate Donmar stage.
The piece centres upon Joe (Russell Tovey), a police officer who, for reasons initially unknown, is off the beat and instead working in a 999 call handler’s room. Immediately, the sense of isolation is palpable, with Tovey’s Joe the only figure on the small, claustrophobic stage, surrounded by working tech equipment which is kept under plastic dustsheets, seemingly, like Joe, decommissioned.
Initially, Joe cuts a forlorn, even disengaged, figure. 999 calls are handled with abruptness, a sign of Joe’s frustration that he is directing the officers where to go, rather than handling the situations himself, yet what Tovey succeeds so deftly in here is ensuring that Joe’s brash nature does not translate as apathy. Joe’s frustration at crank callers and people wasting the emergency service’s time is legitimate, tapping into a sense of duty that the character maintains despite his, presumably temporary, removal from the force. But it also becomes clear, much later on, that Joe is a far more complex figure than initially established, with Tovey excelling during the play’s final five minutes in bringing this to the fore.
Yet it is when Joe takes a call from Emily, muffled and scared, that the play leaps into its thrilling best. The play twists and turns, with Joe pulling strings and calling in favours in an attempt to rescue the pleading caller, in an enthralling 70 minutes that delivers with great gusto its promised twists and turns. It is a play where almost every line, every moment, is spoiler-heavy, so I am treading carefully here, but the payoff at the play’s conclusion is well-earned and deeply shocking. Indeed, the brevity of Moss’s script thrives under Felix Barrett’s pacey direction, meaning no moment is luxuriated upon for too long, maintaining a momentum which propels The Guilty to its thrilling close.
What makes The Guilty thrive, as well as Tovey’s exceptional leading performance, is the superb sound design from Gareth Fry. The stage has clearly been mic’d up extensively, meaning that every movement is exaggerated, caught over the speakers in a manner which throws the audience into the room with Joe. As calls fly in and fly out, the haunting voices flood the theatre in a manner which draws both Joe and the audience in, balancing anguished silences with the urgency and tenderness of devastating phone calls.
Moreover, Alex Eales’s set design works hard to combine Joe’s temporary view of his work, only using the covered equipment when he needs to, with a deliberately naturalistic capturing of a call handler’s room. The screens illuminate when touched, the buttons light up, and the computers are usable, all in a manner which quickly immerses both Joe and the audience in this story, drawing both into Emily’s desperation with aplomb.
By the end, the notion of what is real and what is true becomes the play’s central intrigue, with Tovey delivering his final lines with a poignant poise that exudes the character’s complexities, and seals the play’s thrilling conclusion.
It is a stunning production which will keep you guessing right up until the end.
