Dr Hills Casebook - blog 8

The eighth instalment of Robert Fairclough’s blog about the Change Minds project which unites history, mental health, creative writing and theatre.

 The second week of 2021 and things are already stepping up a gear. In complete contrast to the horrendous state of the world outside our real and virtual windows, Wednesday 13 January was a day for celebration, as it marked the first full rehearsal of the script based on the research we’d done on the 19th century Norfolk County Asylum. Appropriately enough, writer Bel Greenwood had given the play the same title as the name of the project – ‘Dr. Hills’ Casebook’.

 There were 21 people in the Zoom meeting read-through (if that isn’t some kind of record, it feels like it ought to be). Indicating how near we are to seeing the words become actions on a stage, we were joined by composer William Drew-Batty, costume designer Charlotte Bird and filmmaker Julian Caxton, who’ll be filming the play in a ‘livestream’ style at the Cut Arts Centre in Halesworth. The retired, theatrical Charlotte is quite a character. After she’d overcome her technical problems with joining the Zoom meeting, she brightly announced that she was in “a state of emotional collapse” and that it would be “jolly nice to get my mill clogs back on!” By instinct and experience, I can tell that Charlotte, William and Julian are going to be huge assets to the production; I worked with Julian last year on the production of the film ‘The Return of Happy Times’ about the Burgh Castle Almanac group, and he did a fantastic job.

 The read-through was a big moment for historical adviser Richard Johnson. “I’m excited and nervous,” he said, clearly overwhelmed by the significance of the event. “Two years ago when I first opened Dr. Hills’ journals, I never could have imagined we’d be here.” The air of expectation, and some nervousness, was infectious as the actors began to speak…

 At the end of two+ hours I was – well, the only words are emotionally stunned. I could understand why Richard was so moved he was in tears of delight. ‘Dr. Hills’ Casebook’ is without a doubt the most moving theatre I’ve seen in a long while.

 I won’t give too much away, but the play is told largely from the point of view of William Edwards, or ‘Jabez’, a methodist lay preacher who began as Dr Hill’s patient but grew to be his friend and worked in the Asylum. He observes the patients who come and go, among them Louisa Sparrow, James Thompson and Marianna Small, and introduces them to the audience. In Bel’s hands, they all come vividly to life, and I was rather shocked to see Thompson, my research subject, become the hideous, living and breathing domestic abuser he clearly was.

 The utopian 19th century of Dr Hills’ inclusive Asylum is intercut with the moribund present of mental health care, as the lecturer Liz Field battles with cuts, unsympathetic management and the loss of her most promising student. To underline the difference between the two eras, Bel does something very clever: the language of the present day scenes is flat and prosaic, underlining the exhaustion of the 21st century mental health care system, while the dialogue of the 19th century characters is not only authentic to their era, but passionate and poetic. Among my favourite turns of phrase were “I have never felt so much pleasure and so much pain in these 20 hectares,” “a stranger to his own mind, and a stranger to his kind,” and the description of the mentally ill as “lower than the mud in a ditch.”

 The actors were all totally locked in to the spirit and character of the play, but Ben Elder as Jabez was the stand out, fielding an authentic Norfolk accent and convincingly channeling the passion that the troubled preacher felt for the Asylum: “IT MEANT EVERYTHING.” The eventual resolution of Jabez’s story was made all the more effective, and poignant, by his profound commitment to Dr. Hills’ regime.

 I’ll go ahead and say it – ‘Dr. Hills’ Casebook is a triumph. A brave, bold and brilliant triumph. If it’s this powerful in a Zoom read-through, I can’t begin to imagine how emotionally affecting it’ll be as a full stage production, driving home the all important message that “No-one chooses to be mentally ill. Not then, not now.”

 We all signed off happy, a bit drained, but immensely satisfied that what we’d all contributed to had produced something so important. It wasn’t all emotionally intense: the director Laila made me laugh when she said that if she learned one thing from the session, it was that “Zoom is absolutely awful for communal singing.”

 So, then – all aboard for the next level.

'Robert Fairclough writes on a variety of subjects, including mental health and popular culture (sometimes both at once). He has written six books, contributes to magazines and websites, and writes regular blogs for The Restoration Trust. He can be contacted on robmay1964@outlook.com, and his website can be viewed at www.robfairclough.co.uk '