Supplementary Materials

“The Three takes a trope of the English stage and transforms it into something unexpected, something with grit.” – Mel Chambers, Signal House

The Three- Trailer @ CoLab (April 2017)

 In 2016, HOAX commissioned playwright Lila Whelan to create a piece of new writing to explore the backstory of Shakespeare’s strong, violent and radical word sister’s from Macbeth. The immersive production, supported by Theatre Deli and Building BloQs, ran for 3 nights to sold-out audiences in April 2017. It was created in collaboration with Emmy-nominated sound designer Lawrence Kendrick and directed by theatre maker/video artist Rosie Jones. 


EXCERPT FROM LILA WHELAN’S SCRIPT

SCHOLAR      A babe she was, with a babe inside, not more than fourteen with blue sea eyes. Her forehead damp, her legs split apart, the opening of her sex stretched raw in the dark. 

WHORE          Help her.

SCHOLAR      A foot appears from within the torn flesh. All wrong, all wrong, the babe’s all wrong. 

                                                                  The Captain screams

SCHOLAR      Too late for herbs, tonics forgot. The pain is now, blistering and hot.

                                                                  The Captain screams

SCHOLAR      I reach inside, one hand, two, feel the boiled jellied skin of shin and thigh, find the stomach, the head, grasp with two hands and twist…

                                                                  Blood drips down the Scholar’s arms from her hands

                                                                  The Captain screams

SCHOLAR      Twist and turn and twist and pull, something’s not right, the shape’s all wrong, twist and pull, feet out and stomach, the head…but where… 

WHORE          What’s this creature?

SCHOLAR      The arms. They are gone.

CAPTAIN        Let me see let me see…

SCHOLAR      A monster in my grasp, mewling for breath, deformed in its innocence, no hands, no elbows, no fingertips, no nails. Two smooth mounds and a pale chest full of fear.

WHORE          (horrified) What have you done?

CAPTAIN        (faintly) Let me see let me see…

SCHOLAR      Yet there’s nothing to see. What should be there is not there. Ten tiny toes, two eyes and a nose. The red-velveteen child has two limbs not four.

WHORE          (to the Scholar) Wicked! Heathen! Mistress of the devil! 

CAPTAIN        Let me see…

                                                                  The Captain dies

SCHOLAR      Ripped and shredded from inside to out, the mother-child dies never knowing her son. I clasp him to me, warming his chest. His mother’s dark blood staining my hands, my breast.

WHORE          A demon, gross beast, it will murder us all!

SCHOLAR      Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? Let me rub your boy clean with hay from the ground. Here he is, take him, he lives, he is yours –

                       The Scholar offers out the child


APHRA SHEMZA WORKS

Light, Abstraction & Interactivity