Tarantula, Philip Ridley’s nightmarish monologue about trauma and its aftermath, was first performed live online during the Covid pandemic in 2021. For its in-person debut at the Arcola Theatre, director Wiebke Green and actor Georgie Henley return and work in near-perfect tandem. The result is a 90-minute immersion into the mind of a person who is sensationally and irreparably disturbed.
Erstwhile Chronicles of Narnia star Henley plays Toni, a teenager at the top of her class with big dreams of going to Oxford. She reads obsessively, but has barely any experience in the realm of love or sex. Tonight, she’s counting down the hours until her first date with fellow romantic amateur Michael, a wannabe photographer who she met while volunteering at her school’s annual event for older residents. ‘I feel like there’s a real connection between us,’ he says to her.
The early part of Ridley’s monologue plays out like the dialogue in a Jaqueline Wilson novel. Toni is a ball of anxiety; constantly questioning ‘why?’ she uses certain words and if she is making a fool of herself. She talks to the audience as if we are her confidants - sharing her inner worries about her looks and behaviour, revealing a typically adolescent insecurity that she doesn’t quite fit in the world. ‘I’m a slug next to a gazelle’, she wobbles as she walks, hand in hand with Michael. And yet, for the most part, she remains a sunny - if slightly extravagant presence. But, in keeping with Ridley’s past works, darkness is just around the corner.
During their date, Michael and Toni are violently attacked on the streets of East London. Toni is severely injured, while Michael dies at the scene. Aided by a simple but alarmingly effective lighting design by Jack Hathaway, the whole stage falls into a petrified state - Henley’s face is the only thing left in eye-shot. Toni continues to tell her story but her tale is interspersed now with repeating distressing flashbacks. Her life, after her day with Micahel, is dominated by fear.
Regret and survivor’s guilt make Toni’s speech increasingly feverish - she constantly looks around for danger, her eyes bulging so large with terror, that they look as though they could easily pop out from beneath her skin. All of this is made possible by some truly staggering acting from Henley. Jolting from an initial innocence into a jittery, panic-stricken state, she is endlessly engrossing – even when she pauses, silently in psychological paralysis. This is a real triumph of a performance that sends shivers round the room.
In Tarantula, the prolific Ridley is in his prime. Toni’s story blends roaring humour with shocking horror – and yet, we’re never quite certain where this excruciating tale will go. The image of a spider hangs over his play like a damning shadow. Toni races frantically from one thought strand to the next, while the final picture sees her hanging within a web of uncontrollable denial and lies. What an agonising portrait of terror, that leaves both Henley and the audience gasping for breath.
