REVIEW: Bull by Deafinitely Theatre — a gripping exploration of bullying, abuse and the destruction it leaves behind

(*Please note this review contains spoilers about the plot*)
I arrived several minutes late at Birmingham Rep, sweating and panting after running straight from the Birmingham City car park to the theatre. The atmosphere was instantly tense. The auditorium was silent, and I watched from the side until an usher beckoned me towards the front row at a moment when I wouldn’t disturb anyone.

Having unexpectedly found myself sitting right at the front, I felt extraordinarily close to the actors. I had no prior knowledge of what Bull was about, but it quickly became clear that Thomas, played by Ciaran O’Breen, was the victim of two bullies, Isobel and Tony, played by Jasmine Whipps and Danny Lee.

From the beginning, I was mesmerised by the three performers. Ciaran, Jasmine and Danny were utterly believable, never dropping character, with their mannerisms and the way they held themselves continuing even when they weren’t speaking. I was particularly impressed to discover afterwards that Bull marked the first time both Jasmine and Danny had taken on a lead role in a play.

Directed by Deafinitely Theatre’s Artistic Director Paula Garfield, the production is presented entirely in British Sign Language with creative captions, and follows three office workers who know that cuts are coming and that one of them will be asked to leave. Isobel and Tony are determined to make sure it isn’t them, and so Thomas becomes their target.

What follows is essentially one long campaign of baiting and goading, designed to make Thomas trip up when the boss arrives and, ultimately, dig his own grave.

The script itself is superb, providing a strong foundation from which to build. But a good script is only the beginning. It is the creative translation of that material to the stage — the physicality, visual language and performances — that raises the bar. Deafinitely Theatre’s interpretation gives Mike Bartlett’s words an added intensity, turning the tension on the page into something immediate, visceral and deeply uncomfortable.

Nasty comments are made about Thomas’s appearance and the degrading insults gradually give way to gaslighting: “we’re only having a laugh, we’re only playing.” The bullies twist reality in a way designed to make their victim question his own sanity.

The unfairness of the situation becomes even more apparent through the “one rule for you, one for me” dynamic. Thomas is repeatedly provoked until he literally transforms into a bull, reacting to the metaphorical red flags held up by his abusers.

When Thomas finally tells his boss Carter, played by David Sands, that he is being bullied, even that attempt to seek help works against him. Carter scoffs at the idea, saying they are not at school and that he shouldn’t have to babysit him. Thomas’s request for help makes him appear weak, ultimately contributing to Carter’s decision to fire him.

The bullies got what they wanted.

That sense of entrapment is taken even further through the demonic scenes depicting the daily battle inside Thomas’s head. Isobel and Tony imitate demons, their laughter becoming twisted and uncomfortable, while one of the bullies reveals just how much she knows about Thomas, using that knowledge to hurt him where it matters most.

The performances are unsettling, but you somehow cannot look away.

I found myself wanting to step in and protect Thomas. I wanted to shout out, NO! I kept hoping there would be some kind of comeuppance or justice for him. Couldn’t his boss Carter finally see the truth?

This never happened, and Thomas was left as a shell of a man — something that is sadly familiar to many victims of abuse.

Ciaran’s physical performances were incredible. His depiction of a bull, complete with heavy breaths, horns and the movement of scraping a hoof against the floor, was a powerful physical personification of what bullies’ can drive you towards: a state of primal rage.

The Visual Vernacular performances throughout the play are particularly memorable, adding a quality to Bartlett’s writing that could otherwise be lost. The importance of seeing Bull in BSL, with such visual depictions, cannot be understated.

Paula Garfield described the subject of Bull as an important one for the Deaf community right now, saying that we must take note in order to prevent further bullying and abuse from taking place within our community.

The production also makes excellent use of its intimate setting. Associate Director Raffie Julien’s experience in movement direction is evident in the choreography, as the actors shift their positions and use minimal props to create clever changes on the small stage.

The lighting is carefully considered too, often merging into a deep, unsettling red, bringing to mind both the red flag of a bull and the feeling of descending into hell.

There may be no happy ending in Bull, but there is certainly plenty to talk about afterwards. Audience members discussed the different forms of abuse the play had highlighted, as well as how powerful it was to see those themes explored in BSL.

We discussed gaslighting tactics and narcissism, and that kind of awareness can only be a positive thing.

For me, Bull was gripping from beginning to end and it is no exaggeration to say that I was blown away by the performances delivered.

In fact, I actually think I’d like to see the show again. Not simply to make up for the seven minutes I missed at the beginning, but to marvel once more at the sheer strength of the performances and the creative work that brings this unsettling story to life.

Bull by Deafinitely Theatre is an uneasy, yet mesmerising production that shines an unflinching light on the darker side of human nature and the devastating reality of abuse.

You can find out more about the show here. 

Photography by Becky Bailey.

Rebecca A Withey is the Assistant Editor for The Limping Chicken. She is also a freelance writer, BSL consultant and creative artist based in the Midlands. Rebecca is a Deaf, bilingual BSL user.

Press tickets were provided for this show. To arrange a review by Rebecca, email rebecca@rawithey.com