Drama Barn: The Accrington Pals

It would be forgivable to say that Stephanie Faye Bartlett’s decision to direct Paul Whelan’s The Accrington Pals was an ambitious one, given the content of the play in a setting as constrained as the modest Drama Barn. Nevertheless, the most salient feature upon entering the barn is the meticulous effort in creating a World War 1 theme, depicted perfectly with wartime photographs and other paraphernalia, along with painstakingly painted brick walls and a huge Union flag.  To the left stands May’s fruit and vegetable stall, and to the right, her charmingly working-class kitchen, both of which later give rise to heated arguments and climactic moments. Finally, in the middle, the Union Flag serves not only as a symbol of the play’s British spirit, but also masks a poignant backdrop which would feature heavily in the second half during some of the key war scenes.

Bartlett’s version of The Accrington Pals recounts the story of local Lancashire men volunteering to join Lord Kitchener’s battalion to fight in the Great War, and the subsequent effects these changes have on the women they leave behind. From the opening scene, Roseanna Brear shines as May, the headstrong fruit and vegetable stall owner who has no qualms in asserting her dominance from the word go, particularly over her male counterpart Tom, (Luke de Belder) whose chemistry with May is both convincing and tense. As young Tom prepares to go to war, content in his own naive socialist ideologies, Brear portrays a touching vulnerability through her concern for him, which is masked by her character’s thick skin.

Similarly, as Eva is introduced to replace Tom on the fruit and vegetable stall, we see another vulnerable character, who makes no attempts to obscure her fears and shyness, and whose initial quietness noticeably contrasts with her comical lover, Ralph, played by Freddy Elletson. As Eva and May strike up a friendship, we begin to see the stories of all the local townswomen’s lives unfold, which can seem a little slow-paced at times due to a slightly mundane dialogue which doesn’t initially serve in stirring the narrative.

Claire Curtis-Ward’s role as Eva improves tenfold in the second half as the climactic events of the Great War start to unfold, in particular, after the women learn that their lovers and husbands have been sent to France. Just as the female characters become more developed post interval, so too does the story, which becomes all the more exciting during the explosive war scenes, and more touching during the monologues in which the soldiers read out letters to their loved ones. Specifically, in one particularly well-staged scene, we see Elletson reading out a letter to his beloved Eva, who is sat at May’s kitchen table sewing in the dark with her lover Ralph to her under harsh stage lights.

While Brear, de Belder and Curtis-Ward triumph in their roles as troubled lovers, it is also worth mentioning the contributions of those in supporting roles, who maintain a mild humour throughout the play, such as Colette Eaton’s Sarah, or Georgia Bird’s Annie, who ultimately ends up dominating the stage in one of the play’s most climactic scenes.

Ultimately, while The Accrington Pals appears to recount the story of male camaraderie during the Great War, it is truly the strength and togetherness of the female roles in the play which makes it memorable. Although Bartlett’s take on the play is let down initially by slow and unnecessary dialogue, Brear et al triumph in highlighting the frustrations of the war and the catastrophic effect it had on relationships. Concluding in a touching though somewhat disturbing crescendo, The Accrington Pals highlights the difficulties faced by men and women alike during times of conflict, and provides a thought-provoking insight into the horrifying reality of the Great War.