We realize the performance has begun when the Narrator (Jay Palombella) gets up from his seat among us and walks onstage. This entrance sets the tone for the Pembroke New Cellars’ production of Under Milk Wood: a series of intimate, cheeky, and dreamlike apparitions.

Staged by Sophie Rayner and Rosie Parrish from Dylan Thomas’ 1954 radio “play for voices,” Under Milk Wood is a journey into the private life of a Welsh seaside village, Llarregub. The play is a loving observation of the inhabitants of that town, and of the ways they observe each other. They gossip, scold, fall in love with each other, and spend much of their time with each other thinking about the people they have lost.

“The strongest point of the production is the company’s use of language”

The strongest point of the production is the company’s use of language. They speak resonantly and musically and relish the sound-play of Thomas’ phrases: “Sloe-black, slow, black, crowblack,” “Organ Morgan,” “darkness of the darkness.” They have fun with the lilt and rolled R’s of their Welsh accents. There was one moment or two where the hushed delivery of a line came at the expense of being able to hear every word. However, the imagery and the moods are clear, and the myriad characters are distinct.

The cast navigate each moment with simplicity. The audience was in fits of giggles over Polly Garter’s (Alice Pernthaller) recurring song, the more so because she sang it gravely each time, and never played it up. Nogood Boyo (Alex Velody) confesses blankly to the sky, “I don’t know who’s up there,” before deadpanning, “and I don’t care.” This trust in the language allows very touching moments to crystalize as well. When dead Rosie Probert (Olivia Krauze) cradles Captain Cat and tells him how her mouth “has filled with dirt,” the words hang in the air.

A word on the design: there are many scenes with characters dreaming in bed. The sight of actors holding up sheets to mimic lying under the covers makes one suddenly see the whole stage as a bed, with its white backdrop and its white draped furniture. To see the townsfolk peer through slits in the white curtains conjures an image of gossips chatting while hanging laundry on their garden clotheslines. The blocking is fluid, with actors entering and exiting in cycles: from the wings, from the center of the curtain, from behind the audience, and from hiding places onstage.

The actors and directors work well to embrace the play’s fragmented nature. We don’t “follow” Captain or Miss Pritchard so much as their images appear and disappear to us out of the darkness like the flashes of glow worms. This fragmented quality adds to the impact of characters remembering the lovers they lost, through death or distaste. Meanwhile, the staging reminds us of certain character arcs even as the text moves away from them—silhouettes move behind the illuminated curtain, and voices echo from the wings.

It is clear that the cast and production team have a sincere affection for the text. Their delivery of this play, in this deceptively simple staging, makes for a wistful and mysterious celebration of hidden lives.

Under Milk Wood played at the Pembroke New Cellars from Tuesday 7th to Saturday 11th February 2023.