Writer: Lucy Matthes
Director: Charlotte D’Angelo
This dark and gory solo play takes us inside the mind of a fragile young woman. With few moments of relief, it is an intense 40-minute monologue that doesn’t really move beyond its initial premise. Although Lucy Matthes’s I Really Want to Wring a Seagull’s Neck is not a substantial story, with Tabitha Kenworthy’s subtle performance, the character of Ant is the thread that holds our attention.
Ant is trapped in a controlling and dangerous relationship with Gil. Having left university at Gil’s insistence, and unable to find work, she is lonely and stuck inside their Brighton flat. Ant finds solace in listening to Beethoven on an old-fashioned record player, but aggressively screeching gulls persistently interrupt her while dancing to his music. Her growing frustration can no longer be contained, and she decides to kill them all.
It doesn’t take a giant swoop to see how Ant’s hatred of gulls is a transference of her abusive relationship with Gil. Her acts of violence are a ferocious release of fear. Desperate for help, we are witnessing a breakdown. Kenworthy even looks like a gull, dressed entirely in white, with clunky boots, and her bobbed blond hair “dyed this colour because gulls attack redheads most often”. Ant is struggling to stay in reality. Do we believe her? Is she killing gulls, or is this disturbing fantasy dangerously feeding future choices?
Matthes’s writing finds the balance between too much grisly reality and Ant’s troubled mind, and yet, the premise feels unfinished. We are told, the myth of seagulls is that they carry the souls of dead sailors, although this isn’t explored further or connected to Ant’s story. Kenworthy’s monologue is often offset by her dancing to Beethoven, and this feels like a refrain without reason, though the movements eventually become a dance of escape with echoes of Nora Helmer’s Tarantella.
Neither the sound effects of shrieking gulls nor the lighting adds much to the production. However, the relentless murder of seagulls provokes a feeling of unease and horror, with director Charlotte D’Angelo pacing the action that builds to a potentially tragic climax. With a carefully choreographed closing image and an especially vivid dream, this is the beginning of an interesting story. In one particular striking moment, Kenworthy desperately brushes off what might be invisible blood from her arms, and in wringing her hands, reveals a moment of Lady Macbeth who has witnessed too much horror.
Runs until 20 August 2025
Camden Fringe runs until 24 August 2025
The Reviews Hub Star Rating