Step into the shadows and confront These Demons: A haunting tale of family, identity, and the supernatural
Upon entering the generously sized Theatre 503 in Battersea, the audience was welcomed by a set reminiscent of a cabin in the woods, evoking the eerie ambiance often seen in horror movies involving ghosts and demons. It didn’t take long for us to experience our initial encounter with something otherworldly. The character Leah, portrayed brilliantly by Olivia Marcus, took the stage and declared, “If the eye had the power to see them, no creature could endure the mazzikim. (…)”
These Demons, penned by Rachel Bellman and skillfully directed by Jasmine Teo, is a dizzying, humorous, unsettling, and compelling piece that delves into themes of family, identity, assimilation, and prejudice through the perspective of three Jewish women from the same family.
Leah (Marcus) is a sharp-witted, snarky young teenager who becomes fixated on uncovering the truth behind her Aunt Mirah’s accident. She had grown close to her aunt during her weekly Shabbat visits to Mirah’s dilapidated cottage in the woods. Flashbacks reveal that it wasn’t her aunt’s food that kept drawing her back, but her tales of demons, Lilith, and Jewish exorcisms. Mirah, portrayed by Ann Marcuson, appears haunted by her past and persecuted in her present, as she is targeted by a young boy who leaves an anti-Semitic message in her garden.
Danielle, brought to life by Liv Andrusier and Leah’s older sister, serves as a contrasting character. Carrying the weight of an older sibling, she attempts to persuade Leah to return home. However, due to resistance, a lack of signal, and slashed tires, she ends up joining her younger sister for a night in the cottage.
As anticipated, the night descends into chaos as the demons, whether real or imagined, make their appearance. A tumble into a river and an exorcism lead to a fire and a severed toe, and we conclude with both Mirah and Leah meeting each other in real-time, both freshly out of the hospital and relying on crutches. It’s an awkward and tense moment, with a palpable rift forming between the two as Leah declines Mirah’s invitation to come for Shabbat next week. As they both start hobbling away, Mirah makes a final chilling observation: amidst the ashes of her cottage, they discovered peculiar birdlike footprints.
Bellman’s writing is crisp, familiar, and skillfully interlaces us into the family dynamics, mysticism, and enigma. Leah is daring and highly intelligent, yet she retains a childlike sense of excitement. Her frustration with Danielle is highly relatable to anyone who has a “perfect” older sister. Olivia Marcus balances these elements with apparent ease, drawing us into the play’s world and the character through her open and emphatic performance.
Liv Andrusier portrays Danielle with authenticity and heart, effortlessly becoming the most relatable character in the piece. Initially, she disregards the uncomfortable truths surrounding her, but ultimately, she confronts these demons by embracing her identity as a Jewish woman. She had made an effort to assimilate into gentile society, inadvertently distancing herself from her culture and heritage.
Marcuson’s portrayal of Mirah embodies both strength and fragility, acting as the sisters’ mystical guide in this haunted woodland setting. She is a multifaceted woman, with a past as murky and seemingly tragic as the stories she writes about.
These Demons may or may not be real, but the experiences, dynamics, and emotions expressed in this piece undoubtedly are.