Review: Drowned Out at Clwyd Theatr Cymru

Oct 23 2008 Chester Chronicle

DROWNED OUT/Anthony Hopkins Theatre, Clwyd Theatr Cymru, Mold, until November 8

REVIEW/by Peggy Woodcock

WATER was a natural and powerful metaphor in Drowned Out - The Lost Voices of Tryweryn, the story of a village buried beneath a reservoir, at Clwyd Theatr Cymru on Tuesday.

It was cleansing, life-enhancing Welsh rain eulogised at the start. It was bad, dirty water as the tawdry tale unfolded. It defined loss, this cold, soulless lake, by the end.

The latter came from the bereaved mother who faced burying her small son again or leaving his grave at the bottom of the lake. It was one of the most heartrending speeches and, with Jenny Livsey’s fine delivery, poignant beyond words.

In this excellent Clwyd Theatr Cymru production, the personal element held us. It was those voices, the young mother, the fishing-mad schoolboys, the farmer giving thanks for his beautiful valley, the girl crying because her grandfather cried, that brought this real life tragedy home.

Drowned Out was dramatised history, the story, based on research, blending real and fictional characters, using contemporary reports, of the drowning in the late fifties of Tryweryn valley and village, to provide a reservoir for Liverpool.

It traced events from the first seeds, told the story of vulnerable villagers, their ignored protests, the machinations of local and parliamentary government, Welsh indifference and Welsh opposition. Here, as hindsight would show, was the start of the nationalism of today’s Wales.

This David and Goliath tale, small village fighting big city, gave us the grandiose scheme, the question marks over its necessity, the obscenity of the opening celebrations - and a 40 year old apology.

Here too was the pathos of the school, post office, chapel, farms, homes, even cemetery smashed by the diggers, the stones used for the dam, and of a community and its culture equally crushed.

It did it all on a bare stage with the help of some chairs, a few props, occasional video footage, effective lighting - and a multitasking, talented cast.

Tim Baker’s production of Manon Eames’s cleverly written play was a complex one but he kept things moving briskly, the story supervised by two narrators. This was a strong ensemble cast,, but Phil Reid and Gwyn Vaughan Jones deserve mention for exceptional performances.

The fine acting was matched by immaculate timing, notable in the constant switch between the Welsh and English language. It was always clear and gave great resonance to the play, as did the unexpected humour.

We got angry at man’s inhumanity to man, but laughed at the unquenchable human spirit that will joke in adversity. Who can forget Wyn Bowen Harries’s policeman, sitting on a speeding car bonnet, illegally pot shooting rabbits, then picking up two hitchhiking Welsh Nationalists? And the seriousness behind what these two had been up to?.

This is landmark Welsh history, a story that should be told. It is crafted theatre and highly recommended.