An Inspector Calls – Hull New Theatre

As curtain raisers go, there can’t be many more dramatic than that which I witnessed on Tuesday evening, when a National Theatre production of JB Priestley’s classic thriller, An Inspector Calls, exploded on to the stage.

Hull New Theatre seemed to be packed to the gills, especially after the arrival of hordes of school leavers and their teachers. All soon settled and then the fun began a few minutes after 7.30pm.

The explosive start of a very stormy night, with real water falling as rain that little street urchins splashed in, took part outside the impressive home of the wealthy Birling family.

This stage setting – a telephone box, street lamp, a distant urban backdrop and the house – changed very little throughout. But when it did, my goodness it was ear splitting.

All the action takes place on one night – April 5th, 1912 – and the costumes reflect this era: long bustle dresses for the ladies and evening wear for the men. There is no such finery for the little urchins who bravely opened the show – Jackson Hood, Harvey Egerton and Phoebe Hutchinson.

The Birlings are celebrating the engagement of their daughter Sheila (Leona Allen) to Gerald Croft (Tom Chapman). The head of the Birlings, industrial magnate Arthur (Jeffrey Harmer), certainly approves of his daughter’s beau – the son of a rival magnate.

Quaffing the champers with them are the Birling matriarch Sybil (Jackie Morrison) and their son Eric (George Rowlands).

For the first few minutes all this activity took place inside the house, but my old lugholes struggled to hear what was being laughed at and talked about indoors.

Then out on to the balcony stepped the daughter, Shelia, a glorious sight in floaty white voile. Her appearance seemed to make the size of the hitherto huge building look strangely out of proportion. However, perspective was restored when the whole thing opened to reveal a plush dining room.

The party’s jollity was interrupted by maidservant Edna (Alice Darling) announcing the arrival of a policeman, one Inspector Goole (Tim Treloar), who wipes the snobby smiles off of all their faces during the night.

He confronts Arthur first, with the news of the death of a young woman (Eva Smith) who had worked in his factory but, after going on strike to increase her pitiful wage by a pittance, had been sacked by him.

According to the inspector, this was the start of a slippery slope into poverty for the young woman, but he didn’t just stop at Arthur, who eventually admitted he did remember her.

Hat and gabardine coat off, the inspector meant business – mercilessly wringing out admissions, confessions and guilty secrets from the rest of the family, plus Sheila’s fiancé.

All unbeknowingly had played a part in the young woman’s downfall.

It was fascinating to see them, one by one, confronted with their actions and forced to face their shame.

The spoilt Sheila’s temper tantrum was the next blow for Eva, now working in a store and serving the Girling daughter. Fiancé Gerald knew Eva as a Daisy Renton, whom he met at a bar, had her as his mistress, then cruelly dumped her.

Son Eric, also knew Eva as Daisy, got her pregnant and offered her £50 stolen from his father’s office. Turning it down, Daisy appeals to a local charity for aid.

Unfortunately for her, Mrs Girling holding sway in the charity, disbelieves every word Daisy says and sends her away without a penny.

The drama unfolded at such a pace, and with the addition of the most rousing and loud music at times, that there wasn’t a boring second.

Aside from the earlier indoor chat, all voices were very loud and clear – proper theatre voices.

Many times the actors faced the audience, as if compelling us to forgive them their appalling upper-class behaviour towards those less fortunate than themselves.

An Inspector Calls was first performed in Moscow in 1945, but the snobby attitudes alluded to in J B Priestley’s writing could still seem relevant in today’s world.

This talented cast, directed by the multi-award winning Stephen Daldry, kept the audience gripped throughout the one hour and 45 minutes (no interval).

Lives and buildings fall apart – literally, in one mind-blowing scene towards the end.

As they sit amidst broken family china, Gerald’s theory appeases all their consciences. But little do they know, in a delicious twist of the dramatic knife, the night is about to get much worse.

Great stuff. As the cast took their bows to thunderous applause and cheers, the curtain fell on an unforgettable experience.

Reviewer: Jackie Foottit

Reviewed: 11th February 2025

North West End UK Rating: