An investigation into a supposed prophet on a remote island becomes a remarkably poignant piece about survival in this powerful two-hander.
Jack MacGregor’s script lands us in Saint John, a remote Pacific British territory where Kerris (Rebecca Wilkie), a paleoclimatologist, arrives with aspirations of investigating the region’s ancient coral reefs and finding out more about Earth’s systems. Or does she? Immediately, Kerris’s abrupt nature, triggered by islander Joe’s (Xander Cowan) overbearing nature, hints at an ulterior motive. It does not take long for this motive, however, to become clear. Kerris is here to investigate, but not the region’s ecology. Instead, it is the island’s mysterious leader, the Prophet, who Kerris is darkly interested in, and which leads both her and Joe down an irreversible path, as questions about the reality of the island’s ‘paradise’ and its mercurial leader rise.
Where Prophets immediately draws you in is in its careful layering of the piece’s plot. Emma Moran’s design is bleak: some scattered chairs, black rubber pieces doubling as sand and a large, battered groundsheet all point to an unsettling wasteland, and MacGregor’s piece at first glance hints at something dark and horrifying on its way. As it transpires, there is something bleak and awful for both Kerris and Joe to face here, but the revelations that emerge are more devastating than either is willing to imagine. All combined, the performances, the design and MacGregor’s superb script generate an engrossing hour of theatre, one which delivers in a brutal manner but also with a poignant, timeless message.
As Kerris, Wilkie is an outstanding stoic figure, crafting a character still haunted by her past but fuelled by a sense of duty and morality which propels her actions. Yet, this is where MacGregor’s script sticks, as Kerris arrives initially not looking to destroy, but instead to investigate and understand the island’s culture, allowing the character and the piece breathing space for her realising horror to organically develop. Kerris’s frantic climax is deftly delivered by Wilkie, and again this is acutely put together, with neither performer or writer falling into hollow righteousness, but something more empathetic and desperate.
Meanwhile, Cowan, who mostly performs as Joe but also multi-roles, shines in instantly establishing that all is not quite typical on the island. It is an island that only holds 48 people, and native Joe is fiercely defensive of its culture, its community and its champion, the Prophet. Joe’s twitching, insecure character is intriguing, and again helps to set up what seems to be a more typical horror story. Both Cowan and Wilkie have terrific chemistry between them, fuelling both the terror, especially in Cowan’s sinister, distorted depiction of the island’s leader, and the heartfelt connection between the pair who have more in common than it seems.
Indeed, why Prophets lands so supremely is in its intelligent diversion from the expected horror tale of a western woman on an isolated island. This is a finely detailed piece, and one that takes time to carefully set out its ideas. Like the Prophet, the piece is charismatic in its delivery, and absorbing in its intentions. Even in its conclusion, which is finely balanced between horror-style showdown and something more human, the play terrifies unconventionally, aided by the space’s intimate, claustrophobic design. It is a truly horrifying climax to the story, but one which viewers knowledgeable of similar cults will instantly recognise and feel a sense of dread.
While the island may be ancient and the people isolated, Prophets is anything but an archaic story. This is a powerful, emotive, hour of theatre which deviates from expectations and instead delivers an incredibly gripping message about survival, hope and resilience.
