Ahead of TR[IA]L, we caught up with writer Mercy Brewer, director Fiona Popplewell, technical director Sam Bell, and performers Macsen Brown and Freya Popplewell to discuss this taut psychological thriller exploring memory, control and corporate power. Running at White Bear Theatre from 14–18 April, the play follows a young woman trapped in a mysterious medical trial where nothing is quite as it seems. Book tickets here.
(To Mercy Brewer – Writer): TR[I]AL plays with memory loss, consent, and corporate power within a medical trial. What question or fear about contemporary biotech culture first sparked the story for you?
There is a lot of public distrust in corporate companies and powerful figures at the moment (without giving any spoilers, particularly tech companies and what they are developing). Recent global scandals mean that we as a general public are more aware than ever of information potentially being kept from us. This fear is one which underlies the play.
The play also deals with a central scenario: if a woman wakes up in a room alone, and the only person she can speak to is a man who explains her situation, how much benefit of the doubt do we give this man? How much do we trust this man, and dismiss the woman’s doubts and fears? So the story is as much about corporate distrust as it is about gendered power – largely, about who we choose to put trust in and why.
(To Fiona Popplewell – Director): The play unfolds in a controlled treatment room under constant surveillance. How did you approach building tension and psychological unease on stage without relying on spectacle?
Mercy’s brilliant writing creates tension and psychological unease as soon as the lights come up: Subject X is alone in a clinical testing room, not knowing how or why they are there. ‘Who watches through that camera?’ Subject X is being constantly monitored via the CCTV camera, ‘it’s black watchful eye’ taking in her every movement.
It was important to establish the moments where tension leading to psychological unease arise – both for Subject X and the audience. Indeed, this did not only have to take place in moments of spectacle. In our first rehearsal, I had the actors moving about the room as their characters to the eerie music on our show playlist. I’d give them instructions to start examining how they would move in different contexts that evoke tension. For example, I got them to move about the space and pretend to secretly hide some physical object somewhere. When they returned to the hiding spot what they had hidden had disappeared and they then became aware and had to move as if someone, they didn’t know who, was watching their every move.
We spent time examining the moments where Subject X is alone in the testing room, what she gets up to and how the atmosphere changes when Supervisor Y enters, often unannounced. We also studied the private voice-overs logging the trial’s process which only the audience is privy to and how a particular tone of voice can help put the audience on edge. The audience can never really be certain of anything. Even in moments of spectacle there always remains an underlying threat… but no spoilers.
(To Sam Bell – Technical Director): With a single camera and a highly monitored environment central to the story, how did the technical design help blur the line between observation, control, and intrusion?
The technical design was really focused around two things: monitoring and restriction. The camera became our focus point – its position in the space drives a lot of the dialogue and action – as well as being a focal point of the twists and turns of the plot. We then used this as a jumping off point, letting it influence the set design as well as informing some of the extra-theatrical elements (we create a ‘window’ of sorts into the space through the view of the camera). The sound design is similarly influenced by these themes. It is technological, brutal, enclosing, but also quite playful, utilising music and audio as a way to reveal information slowly to the audience.
We were restricted ourselves (with our budget, limited space, and available lighting equipment) and we wanted to make the most of these constraints by using them as an analogue for the restrictions Subject X herself is facing. The set is functional and minimal, and the lighting changes are reserved for climactic moments, forming a binary distinction between the sterility of the bright lights with the boldness of block colour.
(To Macsen Brown – Actor, playing Supervisor Y): Your character operates within a system that appears calm, procedural, and reassuring. How did you work with ambiguity—so the audience is never quite sure where authority ends and manipulation begins?
I think that the line between authority and manipulation is already quite blurred, when are we ever entirely certain where one ends and the other begins? We usually use trust as our measure, if we trust someone’s authority then we view it as such; otherwise we suspect we’re being manipulated. The thing about Supervisor Y is that, out of context, he’s entirely normal. He’s friendly, kind and reassuring. My job is to be as normal and approachable as I can and let the austere, clinical setting and Freya’s uncertainty do the work. I play a character who would be entirely normal and comforting in a GP’s office, and it’s the fact that he’s ever so slightly out of place that makes him so unsettling. Or maybe he’s just very enthusiastic about medical trials! Who knows.
(To Freya Popplewell – Actor, playing Subject X): Subject X begins the play with no memory and very little power. How did you chart her psychological journey as reassurance gives way to suspicion and fear?
I usually begin my process with the script, since many clues about my character’s journey are found there. I look for and underline key “trigger words” — lines from my scene partner that might “trigger” my character to feel a certain way. For my character, Subject X, that might be words that reassure me, or words that build tension and heighten my sense of suspense. During a group read-through, I might also start noticing details that didn’t stand out before – like how a line is delivered differently, whether a moment feels genuine or forced, or even why someone pauses in a particular place. It can make me question the intention behind those choices. Overall, my process is rooted in physicality, repetition, and active listening, being present and being instinctive with the character, every-time we rehearse there is something new.
