With vibrant autumn colors all around and brisk windy days ahead, the climax of fall coincides perfectly with the Connecticut Repertory Theater’s (CRT) opening night of “The Moors” by Jen Silverman. Set in an eerie and desolate moorland in England, a cast of seemingly plain characters comes to life in a brilliant tale of love, lust, vengeance and above all, the universal human desire to be seen.
Directed by Kristen Palmer, a playwright and director with over 25 years of experience in theater, the original concept by Silverman flowed beautifully onto the Nafe Katter Theater stage. That concept revolves around a central question as outlined in a note from the play’s Artistic Director Megan Monaghan Rivas: “What can you do when no one is looking?”
Having seen the opening night of the play on Friday, Oct. 11, I highly recommend that “when no one is looking,” you consider attending one of the upcoming performances of “The Moors.” Below, I’ll outline some of the plot and characters; however, the thrill of the performance is seeing the incredible talent on stage conveying this all to you. While there will be only minor spoilers below, to best understand and experience “The Moors,” I suggest going to the Nafe Katter Theater for one of the upcoming showings.
Light spoilers below!
As the lights faded and a backdrop of a deer’s antlers and a windswept landscape came into view, the stage was set with sparse yet effective detailing. Stuck in the middle of the backdrop was an unassuming yet attention-capturing wooden door. Why was it there? Were we looking at the inside or the outside of a building? Perhaps the answer wouldn’t make any difference; in the first few moments, it’s conveyed that the Moors are an unhospitable place, inside and out. Other than some furniture and household items, the lack of props is more powerful than one might think.
The plainness of the set is soon interrupted by a loud crash as the plot unravels and viewers come to meet the current residents of the house, the first of which is the stern, albeit decisive Agatha (played by Kat Corrigan). Corrigan’s direct and often pointed performance blended perfectly with the austerity of the setting and the appearance of Agatha herself. As the master of the house was her late father, then her inexplicably missing brother Master Branwell, Agatha has assumed a central role in the dynamic to unfold. Her plain dresses, matted hair and often muted tone reflect much of the emotional strain she’s under, as we will come to see throughout the story. Nevertheless, her speech is calculated, and she always seems to be in control—at least initially.
Agatha’s sister, Huldey (Lily Rae O’Neil), is perhaps one of the most intricate characters in the entire play despite her surface-level lack of critical thinking. While Agatha is heading the affairs and speaking only when she has something to say, Huldey (often amusingly) takes a backseat in the household and is content in her ornate dresses while adding to her “very sad” diary.
Let’s pause on the character introductions and take a look at Huldey’s diary. It is — like so much of this play — unassuming, but by the end, its significance comes into full view. Huldey adds to her diary in a very normal way, starting with a bold heading such as “Monday” and then writing her intricate thoughts out, such as “I am very sad.” Yet, moments later (and tired of writing the previous entry), Huldey starts anew, writing “Tuesday” and writing something different. Her diary has no time and no frame of reference. It’s both comical and off-putting, and leaves the audience wondering: Is she sane?
It turns out that Huldey’s diary wasn’t to be exclusively hers, however, as Marjory (Katherine Berryhill), also comes to possess and write in the diary later on. Marjory is the housemaid, though, similarly to Huldey, she has some caveats to her sanity. Berryhill essentially plays two roles. When wearing a cleaning cap, Marjory is the deep-voiced and work-focused scullery maid Mallory. However, when wearing a smaller cap, she is (her true self?) the charismatic and constantly-scheming Marjory.
The final person to read Huldey’s diary is the integral newcomer to the house, Emilie (Morgan Hrymack), a baroness from London who brings her vibrance into the energy-draining place that is the Moors. Words can’t fully describe the color that Emilie (especially with Hrymack’s performance) brings to the barren household. Led along by Master Branwell’s letters inviting her to stay at his manor, Emilie’s hopes of meeting the presumably handsome, well-off and quite eloquent man were shattered when Agatha, after some alibis, admits that Master Branwell is dead. Nevertheless, as Emilie begins feeling the pressure from Agatha, she decides to stay at the house.
While this is occurring, a whole other plot is unfolding between the final two characters in the play: A wounded Moorhen (Cipa Frost) crash-lands nearby the house, and her forgetful bubbliness attracts the family dog, the Mastiff (Evan Wolfgang), who asks the fallen Moorhen, “Are you God?” Their love story runs almost parallel to the story unfolding inside the house and it blends invisibility and vengeance just the same.
Amongst the staggering bleakness of the setting, the wonderfully unpredictable writing by Silverman and brilliant cast merge into a performance featuring a lute (ukelele) solo by Hrymack, capturing all the high notes of Emilie’s character, while a rock-ballad by O’Neil provides much needed comic relief after a brutal outburst from Huldey’s conflicted character.
Without revealing the plot in full, I will say that if I were to spoil some of the twists, you wouldn’t believe that they could even find their way into the setting. Believe me: One minute you will be laughing and on the edge of your seat, and then the next, stunned and on the verge of tears. With no intermission, “The Moors” is a seamless story of love that blends the old style of Emily Brontë’s writing with modern perspectives on self-worth and the power of love for those deemed “invisible” through no fault of their own.
Following the performance, food and drinks were provided and I was able to speak with those in attendance, all of whom had similar praises for the show.
Danny Reyes, a third-semester acting student, commented on the story between the Moorhen and the Mastiff, describing that “the intensity of the Moorhen and the Mastiff was magnificent.” He added that their story was “an emotional rollercoaster.”
Another attendee was Grace Bouley, who shared her thoughts on the vocal performances: “I loved the ballad scene, I thought that was very funny.” She also noted that “the acting was phenomenal.”
Third-semester game design major Javimarie Rosario commented that the performance had the “perfect amount of humor and horror. There were scenes that almost made me cry and then I laughed right after. It’s so dumb LOL.”
Rounding out the night, I spoke with Corrigan, whose performance as Agatha was marvelous. “‘The Moors’ is my favorite thing I’ve been a part of. I think this is the most phenomenal cast I’ve ever been a part of, and we worked so hard to create the most exciting show.”
She recommended that others check out the upcoming performances: “I don’t recommend it lightly; I recommend it very strongly.”
Upcoming performance dates and times for “The Moors” can be found on the CRT website. The next is Wednesday, Oct. 16 at 7:30 p.m. at the Nafe Katter Theater.