CAMERON KELSALL: When the Atlantic Theater Company announced the American premiere of The Welkin, I had to look up the meaning of the title. The Old English word can be used to refer to the sky itself, as well as to the concept of Heaven. Both of those concepts factor into Lucy Kirkwood’s riveting and unsettling play, which takes place in a rural English Village in the 18th century. Both grandly theatrical and unapologetically visceral in a manner that recalls the In-yer-face works of Sarah Kane and Martin Crimp, The Welkin feels at once divinely fresh and a welcome return to old-school playmaking, with a large cast, intricate plot, and a grandeur that keeps its audience leaning forward until the final chilling moments. Long story short: I loved it. Long story long: Kirkwood leaves her audience with a lot to unpack.

DAVID FOX: I agree completely. I knew little about The Welkin when I entered the theater, though I had greatly admired Kirkwood’s The Children, an earlier (and very different) play. I’m now glad that so much of The Welkin came as a surprise, including a kind of edge-of-your-seat frisson at the very beginning that promised much… and which the show continued to deliver. I’m not sure how much to say about the plot, since surprise is an important element. Cameron has alluded to the historical setting, and I’ll add that the focus is fundamentally about a community of women who are of course largely subjected to a male-dominated culture but are seen as both empowered and imperiled.

CK: Since the advanced materials for the production offer a basic outline of the plot, I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler to touch on here. The action concerns a group of twelve matrons—meaning, in this case, married or widowed women who have given birth—who are empaneled as a jury after a young woman has been sentenced to death. The prisoner, Sally Poppy (played by Haley Wong), claims to be pregnant, and it’s left to her peers to discern whether her story is true. The women represent multiple ages and stages of life, as well as class and cultural divisions within their small town, and Kirkwood finds many interesting layers to riff on in their unlikely (and in many cases, unwelcome) legal confinement. 

DF: Fair enough, and since you’ve opened the door… I have to think Kirkwood is deliberately riffing on two plays in particular here: Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, and Reginald Rose’s Twelve Angry Men (adapted from his own screenplay). But The Welkin is astonishingly original and daring, darkly funny and terrifying at once, and effortlessly jockeying tonally between historical and contemporary. I suppose it’s also not a spoiler to say a bit more about the opening, since it is after all the first thing you see. The show begins in nearly total darkness, interrupted by a few barely perceptible but frightening images, which include a nude female, her body bloodied from head to toe but her mood confidently defiant. It’s quite a starting point!

CK: Kirkwood certainly plays with historicity in a fascinating way, setting the women up as both respected experts and agents of a patriarchal system that oppresses them. Many of the conversations the women have, and the quandaries the face, seem like they could be transcribed from a meeting happening anywhere in the world today. At the same time, the messages of the play never feel didactic. The script expertly balances not only the shifts in tone but language as well, segueing between classical rhetoric and anachronism—including a phenomenal musical interlude, which I won’t reveal, but which seemed to capture in three minutes the show’s entire ethos: defiantly flippant and deeply sincere. 

DF: To describe The Welkin as “feminist” would be over-obvious and trite, not to mention that it’s a term which increasingly feels pulled in multiple directions, rendering it almost meaningless. So instead, I’ll say that it’s a play by a female playwright that centers women in a narrative that cleverly both nearly eliminates men and recognizes that they retain all real control. In practical terms, the slyest “feminism” of Kirkwood’s script is to call for a cast of 16 actors, with only two males. In this sense The Welkin goes against the contemporary tide of theater in two important ways. It is a piece massively dominated by females… and it is also a large-format play, written at a time when small casts are the rule of thumb. Part of this comes from the perilous economy of theater, but I also often feel that many current playwrights struggle with orchestrating large-scale conversations. Kirkwood here is an absolute master, and throughout The Welkin, I was inwardly rejoicing in its bigness and virtuosity. For two-and-a-half hours, the action is seamlessly revealed through interactive dialogue. No need for the clumsy and now- common device of a narrator here! And what a gift this play is to the fourteen female and nonbinary actors who, as it were, steer the ship! 

CK: It’s also exceedingly rare to encounter ensemble acting at the level of cohesion and ease that you find here. Director Sarah Benson deserves high praise not just for engineering the many complex parts required by the script, but for doing so with such dynamism and verve. (The entire physical production—with scenery by the design collective dots, costumes by Kaye Voyce, and lighting by Stacey Derosier—is equally superb, and perhaps the best use of the Atlantic’s space I’ve seen since the original production of Spring Awakening eighteen years ago.) It feels uncharitable to single out performers when the unit itself is so tight, but I was especially impressed by Mary McCann (as an imperious outsider with a secret), Hannah Cabell (as a country woman who overcomes muteness to communicate a shocking revelation), and Jennifer Nikki Kidwell (as the group’s consistent voice of reason). And in what is arguably the central role, Sandra Oh, returning to the New York stage after a twenty-year absence, gives a performance that would surely win her a Tony if this production were on Broadway.

DF: Again, we agree completely on all points here. As for Sandra Oh, I’ll preface this by saying I have a long resistance to using the word “brave” to describe performers (first responders are brave; working actors are extremely lucky). But it speaks volumes that Oh, who could have returned to theater in any vehicle she wanted, chose this: an off-Broadway premiere by a female playwright that is intellectually daring and in no sense a work that “makes friends easily.” Oh’s character—Lizzy Luke, a local midwife—is a dominant force, but The Welkin is notably an ensemble work. Surely though, it’s Oh’s name and presence that will help make this a sellout event. She is also superb in the show, masterfully limning one of the signature stylistic elements—finding a speech pattern that sounds completely natural and contemporary, while speaking dialogue that abounds in curious historical terms and locutions. I wonder if this is baked into Kirkwood’s script, or something devised through Benson’s direction? Either way, it’s one of the most intriguing aspects in a show that overflows with them.

CK: A major historical event referenced throughout the play is Halley’s Comet, which the characters await as they make their decisions. They note that such an event comes only once in a lifetime. These days, it feels like plays that entertain, challenge, and excite the audience are equally rare. The Welkin succeeds in all points. Halley’s Comet will next be seen in 2061. The Welkin runs through June 30. Don’t miss it.

Photos by Ahron R. Foster.