Hannah Jones as Madeline in The Clearing - Photo: Grant Barker

The fortunes of a young couple and two nations are cruelly bound together in this evocative historical drama.

Helen Edmunson’s The Clearing tackles the aftermath of the English Civil War and Cromwell’s war in Ireland, through the prism of English gentleman farmer Robert (played by John Davis) and his fiery Irish wife Madeline (Hannah Jones).

Jo Parker Sessions, Hannah Jones, Trevor Burton, and John Davis in The Clearing - Photo: Grant Barker
Jo Parker Sessions, Hannah Jones, Trevor Burton, and John Davis in The Clearing – Photo: Grant Barker

As the Lord Protector seeks to punish those who stood against him, their marriage across country and religion puts them at risk, and their friends face ruin at the hands of governor Sir Charles Sturman (Chris Bealey).

There’s a lulling lyricism in the dialogue, and Jones particularly brings it alive with an emotionally rich and impressively nuanced performance. Jo Parker Session, as her reclusive friend Killaine, is equally adept in inhabiting a very different character: her final scene is especially powerful.

Chris Bealey as Sir Charles Sturman in The Clearing - Photo: Grant Barker
Chris Bealey as Sir Charles Sturman in The Clearing – Photo: Grant Barker

Bealey brings a chill to the room as the unyielding representative of a revenging government, particularly as he helps – or perhaps tricks – Davis’ enigmatic lead. We can never quite tell whether he succumbs to sharp logic, self-preservation, or a tragic lack of sophistication.

Edmundson’s script is less nuanced as to who the bad guys are here, and perhaps falls into the trap of confusing the romantic idea of the Irish rogue with a reckless lack of responsibility – Madeline is faced with an immensely cruel regime, but by failing to look two steps ahead she is also partly the architect of her own fate.

Bealey, as director and set designer as well as performer, plays into this mysticism with a fantastical ‘holy tree’ at the centre of the stage, cluttered with wheels and cribs and decorated with rags for wishes. It lends a sort of unreality that allows us to contemplate the cruelty of the situation in relative comfort, unlike the characters so powerfully portrayed in front of it.