theSpace @ Surgeons Hall
Aug 10-12, 14-26 (17:35)

Fortiter in Re, Suaviter in Modo

The Quality of Mercy is an important piece of historical theatre, revealing the true horror of Britain’s most prolific serial killer. With an intimacy only theatre can deliver, Edwin Flay has written and acts in an impressive character study of Dr. Harold Shipman, known as Dr. Death. This is a particularly personal project for Flay given his own grandmother was one of Shipman’s victims. One gets the sense of the play as an important chronicle, to unpack a terrible saga so that we might avoid a repeat of history.

Conveying such a villainous figure without making him cartoonish is a huge challenge. In this case, Edwin Flay has built a masterful performance and an impressive piece of one-person theatre. He has the courage to present Shipman with enough normality so that he can carefully explicate the twisted pieces of the man and thus unfold the full horror incrementally. A very powerful effect is achieved, which is especially important for helping the audience understand how Shipman could have operated for so long without reprisal – quite simply, he seemed to be normal.

That is the biggest achievement of this play in my mind – to make plausible and understandable such a horrific character, so that the full creepiness can be witnessed. Prior to this point, I could barely conceive of how such a person could exist. This is sort of like visiting Auschwitz where one is taken inside an evil world and whilst an unpleasant experience, it is nonetheless instructive and necessary. We see a serial killer in the flesh presented believably, which is an experience one hopes to never have for real but in the theatre, is a perversely thrilling ride.

We see what can happen when a psychopath holds the trusted position of a medical doctor for many decades. One hopes we have individually evolved a sixth sense to pick up when something is seriously off with someone. It’s a feeling in the gut, raised hairs on the back of one’s neck – a physiological survival mechanism. Flay’s performance gave me a similarly disturbed feeling, which is a testament to the theatrical power of this piece and one of the many reasons why you should go see the show.

Where else can you safely bare witness to such a dark aspect of human nature, learn about it, and then step away into the day, free of its power? That is the transportative power of theatre, to take us inside worlds that we would otherwise never get to experience and which we can learn from without undue adversity. I deliberately did not research Dr Harold Shipman properly so that I could experience the power of having the complete biographical details revealed to me during the show.

Director and dramaturg Bernie C. Byrnes takes full advantage of the shocking scale of the crimes, crescendoing to a horrifying conclusion by projecting more of the victims names on the upstage wall as we observe increasingly creepy behaviour from Shipman. The names fill the wall and the gravity of the tragedy dawns on us. It is a deeply disturbing climax which must be seen firsthand to properly appreciate cathartically. This play delivers a profound experience whilst performing an important service and honouring the memories of the victims. It is not to be missed.

Stuart Bruce