Wholly unneeded but deadly good theatre
The theatrical adaptation of Thomas Harris’s chilling 1988 novel The Silence of the Lambs at the Festival Theatre is an interesting case study in the question of whether adapting from one medium to another is always worth it.
The Silence of the Lambs is a famous novel, but arguably more famous still is the 1991 film adaptation starring Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins. This film is famous for its riveting mystery, its exploration of gender, trauma, and psychology, and for the now-legendary performances, particularly of the story’s best-known character, Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
Dr Lecter is a seriously brave and ambitious character for any actor to take on after Hopkins, especially in this exact story. An actor would neither want to mimic Hopkins’ iconic performance, nor distance their interpretation too far from the character audiences know that the portrayal feels as if it has grown in resistance to the familiar. John Partridge, a theatre and television legend in his own right, manages to toe this line. His Dr Lecter is similar enough to evoke the character we’re familiar with, while different enough to not come off as an impersonation. This is an interpretation that genuinely seems to have come from within; while not wildly different in speech or physicality, the character feels organically grown by Partridge – neither an impression nor a rejection of the past. It is a somewhat inward-turned performance of the terrifying psychiatrist-turned-serial killer – one that is subtle and naturalistic while still being quietly menacing.
The other performances are similarly sturdy: Mollie Gallagher plays a staunch and whip-smart Clarice Starling, with a slightly mumbly southern accent that can come and go (quite possibly a conscious character trait, as Dr Lecter mentions that Clarice’s drawl surfaces when she is shaken or angry). Sam Jackson gives a very solid performance as Jame Gumb (“Buffalo Bill”), the troubled young serial killer Clarice is hunting – he is erratic, awkward, frightening and a little sad. The rest of the cast holds up well, with a particular shoutout to Oliver Farnworth as Jack Crawford, who was a compelling foil to the mostly deranged and repellent men Clarice is surrounded by.
This production, compared to the film at least, focuses significantly less on Clarice’s experience as a woman in the FBI. The opening scene goes some way to showing the boys’ club dynamic at the FBI training program; however, aside from the odd snide comment from a peer or creepy remark from Frederick Chilto, Clarice doesn’t seem to face any significant disadvantages from her gender. Downplaying this angle of Clarice’s experience somewhat weakens one of the most powerful themes in the story.
The true star of this show, for better or worse, is the set design. A simple brick hallway,lined with doors and overhung with a small footbridge and a staircase leading up to it, manages to believably portray a wide range of different locations: the basement of an FBI building, a training gun range, a grungy alleyway, an asylum cell corridor. Lecter’s iconic cell, glass on two sides, moved on and off stage and turned to provide an ideal view of the prisoner and his room, then turned 180 degrees for the opaque side to serve as the wall of the pit Buffalo Bill’s victims are placed in. Scene transitions were fast and seamless, and simple lighting changes, wall projections, and text projected onto the footbridge gave the audience all the necessary information quickly and effectively. Set and costume designer Michael Taylor deserves utmost praise for his work here, and is definitely one to pay attention to.
This is a good play, well performed and beautifully designed. As a member of the audience, I was only left with one question: was this adaptation necessary? What does the stage version say, or achieve, that the novel and film did not?
Silence of the Lambs is running at the Festival Theatre until September 12th, 2026.