GUEST POST: Pontypool Stage Show Review by Alasdair Stuart

Pontypool is my favourite horror movie. Adapted from Tony Burgess’ cult novel, it follows the crew of a tiny Canadian local radio station on the night that a virus spread through language breaks out in their small town. As they become the story, and the story becomes a killer, the three must work out how to communicate with each other and the world. It’s intensely humane, relentlessly funny and unlike anything else I’ve ever seen.

It's ridiculously appropriate then that a story about a linguistic virus should evolve so well. As well as the excellent original book, there’s an audio drama using the movie’s cast and now, the show has jumped the Atlantic to land in the home of the other Pontypool, Wales.

For the next week, a stage production of Pontypool is playing in the Millennium Centre’s Westin Studio in Cardiff. I saw it last week, chatted to the director and had an incredibly good, fun night.

 This is a show that’s deeply Welsh in fascinating, subtle ways. In addition to relocating the story to the valleys, it also leans into the very real cultural divide between the different elements of the UK and the stories we tell ourselves about where we come from and who we are. No one tgells those stories louder than Grant Mazzy, the exiled shock jock at the heart of the play. Lloyd Hutchinson plays him with Clarksonian glee, revelling in the sound of his own voice and trying not to think about how far it carries. Thrown out of the BBC, Grant is a legend in his own lunchtime, performatively railing against the dying of the light from Beacon Radio’s tiny studio.

His only appreciative audience is Megan Davies, played by Mali O’Donnell. The production assistant for Beacon is intensely competent, cheerful and likes everyone, the social glue that holds Grant and producer Rhiannon Briar played by Victoria John together. O’Donnell and John are both fantastic and there’s a smartly handled dynamic between the two women that does the vital work of grounding the story. We find out as the story goes on that Rhi is guilt-ridden over the fact Megan is at the station. Not because of what she does but because of how small it is and how few opportunities there are. Grant is exiled here, Rhi feels like she’s the sole defender of the station status quo and Megan is quite happy where she is, even if Rhi isn’t. Three people at three different stages of their career, all crammed into a tiny studio on the day the world ends. Elements like that, and the universally strong cast give the play a foundation it only ever builds on. Its characters do the same, clinging to their training, using their job as a shield even as they slowly realise just how much trouble they’re in. John is especially good in this regard playing Rhi as furious, terrified, exhausted and relentless she’s just trying to understand the problem, even as Grant is trying to make the problem his road home.

The problem itself is chillingly well realised, and movement coordinator Lucy Glassbrook has given the virus victims (Referred to as ‘Conversationalists’ in the original text) a chilling set of common movements as the virus overtakes them. Director Dan Phillips uses this as a handle to crank the tension with the second half featuring an extended sequence where the radio staff are locked in with multiple victims. Because the event is so unprecedented, and Grant is often so self-absorbed, we notice before they do and the ‘IT’S BEHIND YOU!’ tension is cut with the horror of watching someone be taken over to create some gloriously dark theatrical horror. Philips and Robinson give us multiple cups too, with Corwyn Jones is particularly impressive as ‘helicopter traffic reporter’ Ken Loney who witnesses the original breakout in a manner that shatters his, his colleagues’ and our illusions that anything is safe.

That’s the big takeaway from the show. Hefin Robinson’s script comes at the original idea from a different angle that makes it both more focused and humane and, if anything, bleaker. Grant’s motivations are an oil and water slick of personal gain and altruism and as the second half continues and order collapses, he rises to the occasion whether anyone wants him to or not. Dan Phillips peppers that act with some glorious moments of theatricality, all of which land like the arcing flashlight blows of one character clubbing another to death on a near blacked out stage. Language, music, implication and psychology all mix in the increased damaged studio and your perception of the characters shifts even as the language they’re using does. The ending, whose final line has been on my tattoo list for years, is subtly retooled too, as Grant both tries to save the world and redeem himself. It’s not the end of the world, it’s not even the end of the show, but it’s the end of Grant Mazzy’s exile and God help anyone in his way.

 Every choice this show makes is smart. Every performance is top notch. The production looks brilliant. It deserves a longer run, a wider audience and a lot of acclaim and if you’re a horror fan and can make it to Cardiff, you need to see it.

Pontypool is currently playing at the Millennium Centre in Cardiff until November 16^th.

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Alasdair Stuart is a professional enthusiast, pop culture analyst, and writer behind the award-nominated weekly newsletter, The Full Lid. He is a multiple Hugo finalist and co-owns the Escape Artists podcast network. He can be found on bluesky.