Jekyll and Hyde
Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

FORBES MASSON stars in this one-person play adapted by Gary McNair from Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic Gothic novella, and directed by Michael Fentiman. As in the original, the “strange case” is narrated by Mr Utterson, a lawyer and friend of Henry Jeykll, who encounters Edward Hyde first by hearsay and then directly, before gradually coming to understand the truth of their connection.

The set and lighting design by Max Jones and Richard Howell are simple and unfussy but strikingly effective: three rectangles of white light against an almost empty black stage. The largest frames the “fourth wall” through which we see the stage, the second outlines a small raised platform on which almost all of the action takes place, while the third and smallest stands upstage and represents the door through which Hyde emerges and retreats. 

The simple play of light and darkness — enhanced by Richard Hammerton’s soundscape — creates moments of shock, and there is an eerie effect near the end when Utterson finally approaches the door. Against its brightness, and with a soft spotlight fading up and down, his figure seems to transform and distort.

Beyond the platform there is no set to speak of other than a chair and a microphone, plus a bowler hat. Still, there’s great variety to the scenes Masson’s Utterson evokes within these limits, whether that’s the violence of a pitch-dark backstreet, an extravagant dinner party thrown by Jekyll, or the conversations between Utterson and the other characters. 

Some are given more directly than others — Enfield pulls on his braces and Lanyon squints through a pince-nez — but Jekyll never quite appears, his conversations with Utterson played cleverly by Masson standing at the microphone and passing the hat from hand to hand as one, and then the other of them speaks. This use of the voice, amplified and non-amplified, is another way the tone of the piece shifts from moment to moment.

McNair’s text is a mix of Victorianisms and contemporary colloquialisms, giving a flavour of the period without concerning itself too much with historical accuracy. It also contains quite a few jokes, which mostly work, and the humour lets us to come to trust Utterson, despite his initial protestation that “I’m not the good guy.” 

The narrative sticks pretty closely to Stevenson’s original, other than the ending which takes some liberties, in an attempt to draw out more explicitly Utterson’s complicity in Hyde’s crimes. 

The power of Stevenson’s work — here and elsewhere — is in telling a complex, nuanced story without overt commentary, and Utterson’s final speech here seems to draw too explicit a moral to be entirely convincing.

Runs until January 27. Box office: (0131) 248-4848, lyceum.org.uk.