THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
By Lindsey Ferrentino
Donmar Warehouse, 41 Earlham St, London WC2H 9LX, until November 30, 2024
It is sadly fitting that it was a tall tale that led to the real life Nick Yarris (Adrien Brody) ending up on Death Row, for he had a gift for telling stories and a love of fiction. What Lindsey Ferrentino has done with his tale is something remarkable. Rather than plodding us through a true-crime docudrama, she instead weaves a magic spell by fashioning an utterly compelling and even witty story, where Yarris gets to recount his own tale of something that is fundamentally horrific yet doesn't feel it in the telling.
The horror began (as it often does in the US) with a routine traffic stop where a malicious cop inflated what, at most, was a misdemeanor into a full assault, weapons, and drugs charge on our hapless, wayward, drug-addicted 20-year-old protagonist. In a police interrogation room, he spies a lurid newspaper cover story about a grisly abduction, rape and brutal murder of a woman and trying to deflect attention from his case he says he knew who did the murder. He slyly names an old enemy of his, knowing that he's now deceased. It soon all spirals completely out of control and HE gets charged and then convicted of the murder of this mother of three and is sent to Death Row where, astonishingly, he spends the next 22 years tied up in an appalling appeal process. He ends up petitioning the court not to ask for another appeal but rather to have the Governor sign his death warrant.
Casting Oscar winner Brody (likely to get another one for The Brutalist, by the way) is a great coup for the Donmar. Miriam Buether's set manages to squeeze more audience seats on the stage (allowing more to see him) giving the piece even greater intimacy than is normal here. Her use of two-way mirrors and Jon Clark's razor-sharp lighting are perfectly judged.
As for Brody, well, he is simply perfect. Both wiry and wired, he's ageless and yet still resembles a bird with a broken wing. He's perfect for the twin sides of Yarris, the haunted victim of an incredible injustice and the easy charmer who lays it on with Jackie, the serious-minded Prison Visitor, who becomes his champion, friend, and eventually romantic partner. Nana Mensah is wonderfully heartfelt as an intelligent everywoman figure who can't quite believe she's been thrown into this matrix. The piece is great on the emotional and personal toll on women like her, who often end up losing parts of themselves in their decades-long struggle.
Justin Martin's direction is wonderfully detailed and taut throughout and a splendid ensemble cast cleverly delineate a host of supporting characters. Aidan Kelly perfectly embodies the banality of the thuggish Guard. The sadistic pleasure the guards derive in mentally (total silence is demanded for months) and physically assaulting these prisoners for the smallest infraction is depressing. You're already dead and dead men don't talk
, they shout. This focus, mercifully, only lasts for the first quarter though as Ferrentino soon gives Yarris voice to narrate his back story and so to charm us.
These Death Row inmates are down and yet society can't stop kicking them, just for the thrill of it, and Ferrentino gets to the nub of all this. It's a savage indictment of a criminal justice system which treats the weak (poor or Black) as dispensable and then tortures them further with appeals that can last 30 years. Here, Yarris's trial was a farcical rush to pin it on someone and so there was a shockingly casual neglect of vital DNA evidence, rendering it useless. Years later crucial samples were then carelessly lost in the post to the lab. The court appointed defense lawyer made his contempt quite clear on day one, telling Yarris that he's a proud Christian who champions the death penalty. He didn't stand a chance, but I won't spoil the ending.
Brilliantly written, directed, and acted this is one of the plays of the year.
