Alexandra Palace, September 9, 2023

All six episodes of Nigel Kneale’s first Quatermass story brought to life live on stage…

This latest, er, experiment with a landmark of science fiction and broadcasting generally saw a multi-talented ensemble cast perform an epic read-through of all six episodes at the iconic site of the original 1953 broadcast, Alexandra Palace.

As the audience took their seats in the magnificent theatre, they found a row of microphones starkly lit in green while unearthly noise formed a background. The lights fell, on came the legendary Toby Hadoke to set the scene with a brief summary of the programme’s creation and the sad loss of the final four episodes. Then the cast filed on, Holst’s “Mars Bringer of War” played out and we were transported seventy years back in time.

The plot is now well known. A space mission returns to Earth with two of the three crew members missing and the third practically catatonic. He undergoes a slow, hideous transformation before a stunning climax in Westminster Abbey.

A linking narration turned pictures to sound in a largely voice only production, initially the recorded tones of David Tennant and then producer Jon Dear. The initial control room tension moved to the crash site In Wimbledon and the magic of Nigel Kneale’s script began to work, with characters major and minor carefully drawn and brought to life.

The anchor of course was Bernard Quatermass himself, with Mark Gatiss at last getting the role he had always wanted and running with the flawed but decent scientist realising the human cost of his work. Central to the developing story were Judith Carroon (Alice Lowe), wife of the returned astronaut; Inspector Lomax (Kevin McNally), the investigating policeman finding his beliefs tested; journalist James Fullalove (Hadoke himself); and John Patterson (Scott Arthur), an embittered colleague of Quatermass’ who believes he should have been on the mission. The steadfast Gordon Briscoe (Charlie Demelo) arrives in episode 2 with the slightly soapy revelation that he and Judith had been having an affair but thereafter provides that scientific support.

There was also a parade of carefully drawn supporting characters, starting with locals at the crash site and running through the whole story. They sparkled, drawing roars of laughter with their work on Kneale’s sometimes clunky, sometimes genius dialogue. Special mention must go to Alan Cox for several characters, notably a scene-stealing park keeper with more than a touch of Peter Cook about him. The word “isthmus” has never been funnier. Similarly, Linda Marlowe’s Miss Wilde was a delight as the sweet old lady whose house is hit by the crashing rocket, with her matter-of-fact nattering about her cat Henry and cups of tea writing a book on 1950s suburban Britain in just a few lines.

I have left someone out and quite deliberately. Separate mention must be made of James Swanton’s phenomenal performance as tragic man-into-monster Victor Carroon, who bucked the general trend by giving a hugely physical acting performance to go with his rasping, confused voice. That physicality drives the finale as Quatermass battles to reach the remaining humanity within the hideous creature towering over Westminster Abbey. Largely conveyed by dialogue only, the struggle is depicted by Swanton’s twisting agonies in silhouette against a green backdrop. It was an incredibly effective way of depicting a huge effect on stage.

The scale of the climax is set out in chilling, matter-of-fact dialogue and see Patterson redeem himself and the last-chance military assault looking bound to fail. Gatiss excels in Quatermass’ mea culpa TV address to the nation, begging for forgiveness should the worst happen.

This was not so much a performance as a grand love letter to a time, a place and a man. It was not perfect, but how could it be over four live hours in that heat? The tiny flaws only heightened appreciation of the scale of the undertaking.  Any narration fluffs passed barely noticed as did the occasional “oh, that’s me isn’t it?” dash for the microphone. To my (perhaps ageing) ears one or two of the voices were a bit muffled, perhaps by sound issues.

Verdict: All in all, it was a triumph, as reflected in the standing ovation as the stage went dark for the last time not long before midnight. 9/10

Peter Deller