A large part of what makes The Music Box so wonderfully unnerving is the uneasy relationship established between imagination and reality. Where does one end and the other begin? The questions tease the audience throughout their excursion into the world of The Music Box, a mark of the excellent writing and production that distinguish this play. You cannot help but be immersed in this world, trapped inside this sinister room, forced to watch as events spiral into an increasingly dangerous place.

The directors commented in an interview for Varsity that they don’t consider this a play in the ‘nineteenth century sense’, a comment elucidated by experiencing The Music Box. Student writer Emma Stirling (who also directs and stars as Tess) has worked in tandem with musician Rhodri Karim, artist Anna Moser, and co-director Sophie Seita to create a remarkable piece of theatre. But whilst beautiful, the mood is an uneasy one: no place is made safe, neither the room nor the world outside it, and the audience are certainly not to be put at their ease. Our curiosity is maintained throughout: initially over the incredible set, with the strange mobile, and the unlaid bed, then over the story of the Mother and the Doctor (whose story is relayed through mesmerising choreography), whilst always drawn to the dark secret of what’s behind the door. This is corroborated both by Karim’s striking compositions and the palpably loaded silences that follow. 

The acting is fiercely emotional and excellently controlled, with several sterling performances. The physicality of the actors is especially spellbinding: Oliver (James Evans) moves slowly, subtly, which somehow becomes incredibly threatening, whilst Blake (Will Chappell), silent throughout, managed to convey a childlike innocence through his gestures. Laura Bates delivers an excellent performance as Laura: hugely vulnerable and emotional, whilst simultaneously appearing dangerous, wielding an unsettling level of power over proceedings. As the episode hurtles toward its sudden close, the distinctions between beginning and end become harder to determine. ‘Let’s start in the middle’ declares Tess, as she stares despondently at the music box in her hands… the performance challenges the chronology we naturally expect of a ‘play’, just another of the reasons why this piece shies from the phrase.

If you do go to see The Music Box (and I whole-heartedly recommend that you do), then you must be prepared to engage with this play, and keep your wits entirely about you, otherwise you could easily get lost, or miss something, especially with the tangled plotlines. It isn’t a passive experience: the secrets are not laid bare for the audience, but rather placed just beyond their reach - which is what I find so particularly enticing.