Lela & Co, Royal Court ***

Seeing Lela & Co being compared to the infamous Blasted by Sarah Kane in a review scared me. Comparing anything to a play in which eating dead babies wasn't the most horrible thing there is slightly off-putting. Whilst there is no baby eating here, it is still a horrifying depiction of an abused and neglected woman. You enter through a dark corridor with defiled newspaper cuttings and sexist posters before coming out into a space, designed by Ana Inés Jabares Pita, that has a garish stage that is in the corner whilst Katie West sits in an egg-shaped chair and a nervous looking David Mumeni welcomes audience members in. From the outset, you can see the controlling nature of Mumeni's character and the controlled nature of West's Lela. This carries on once the play begins. The play text describes it as a monologue but from the outset Mumeni's male character's interject and undermine whatever Lela says. As the play carries on, it starts to be confused as to whether it is a monologue or actual conversations and scenes, which starts to detract from the plays power. The start has an absurd over-theatricality to it, with every gesture from the men exaggerated and aware. However, the façade fades very quickly and, as the darkness falls, the language and situation becomes more and more grotesque. West's storytelling is vivid and charismatic whilst Mumeni has a scary and slimy nature to him. The darkness allows certain images to infiltrate your brain and create a far more frightening picture than by depicting the acts on stage. Jude Christian's direction occasionally feels confused with an odd aside comparing the hell of Lela's situation to a modern day business which feels disconnected to the aesthetic of the production. However, despite this and Cordelia Lynn's confusion over the play's form, it makes for a powerful and deeply upsetting 90 minutes.