Lucy Kirkwood’s The Welkin is a rarity.  It’s a serious play with an overwhelmingly female ensemble cast that looks at issues of class, gender, power and authority almost entirely through a female lens.  It’s hard hitting, sometimes violent and often shocking which makes for compelling theatre.  It opened on Thursday evening in the Baillie Theatre at Soulpepper in a co-pro by Soulpepper, Crow’s and the Howland Company, directed by Weyni Mengesha.

The vehicle is a capital trial in (I think) Bury St. Edmunds in 1759 (“that wonderful year” as Hearts of Oak puts it).  Sally Poppy has been convicted of the murder of the daughter of the local bigwig Lord Wax and sentenced to hang.  She “pleads the belly”; i.e. claims she is pregnant.  This requires the convening of a jury of matrons to decide if she is actually pregnant or no.  A successful appeal would postpone the execution date and, almost invariably, lead to a commutation of the sentence to transportation.  The deliberations of such a jury form the backbone of The Welkin.

It’s a pretty searching investigation of how gender, class and perceived expertise impact power relations; not just in 1759 but before and since.  It’s also an intriguing look at how juries work in a world where everyone knows everyone else; their families and their place in society.  They assume far more weight here than what we think of as “evidence”; which is in distinctly short supply.  Ultimately it’s a story about a young woman from the fringes of society who is accused of killing the child of someone of high status.  Basically there’s only one possible outcome but how it plays out here is fascinating.

The “jury of matrons” is basically made up of qualified women who happened to be in court though here the local midwife, Lizzy Luke, is conscripted to make up the required twelve.  They are varied in age and social status though all, of course, are married or widowed.  The men are peripheral.  The Justice is never seen, only heard.  Sally’s husband makes a brief but inconsequential appearance.  The bailiff Mr. Coombes is basically required to shut up and stand there.  The only male with agency is the doctor who is eventually called to determine Sally’s status (somewhat to his chagrin as he realises that Lizzy has far more experience of pregnancy than he does) but then he’s a male authority figure…

This all plays out for two hours with Lizzy trying to persuade the other women that this is their one chance to establish some agency “as women”.  The reaction is generally skeptical; especially from the more upper class characters but Kirkwood has a number of surprises up her sleeve.  Not everyone is who they seem to be and the ending is surprising and shocking, though on reflection perhaps it shouldn’t have been.

There’s also some humour in there though frankly I was too absorbed and disturbed by what I was seeing to laugh.  There are also hints that childbirth, women’s things and midwifery are not a million miles removed from witchcraft; at least in some people’s minds.  Throw in some very anachronistic moments (a Kate Bush song, a woman with a vacuum cleaner, a leper), and a language that hints at dialect and period but isn’t stuck there and one ends up with a work of great complexity rooted in 1759 in Suffolk but not bound to that year or place.  The questions posed are timeless.

The complexity becomes effective drama through keenly timed direction and some really good acting.  At first it seems as if Mayko Nguyen’s Lizzy is going to dominate with the other jurors almost chorus like and Sally (Bahia Watson) just an intermittently self destructive presence but as things play out some of the other women take on more importance and we see some excellent ensemble acting.  Eventually Sally becomes more central.  As she slowly reveals her rather ghastly story she grow in stature.  It’s a very fine, nuanced performance.  It’s fitting that the final scene is a rather devastating resolution of the relationship between Sally and Lizzy.

This is the kind of play where one feels that one would have to see it more than once to fully unpack it which is not, in my view, a weakness!  Recommended.

Lucy Kirkwood’s The Welkin plays in the Baillie Theatre at Soulpepper until October 5th.

Photo credits: Dahlia Katz.