The table is laid for breakfast, a pot of tea is ready to be served, an umbrella is hanging on the coat rack and some knitting is left out on the chaise lounge. This is the Borden home of 19th century Massachusetts, the place where Lizzie Borden supposedly murdered her step mother and father with an axe. This table serves as the site of the majority of the play’s action and discussion, and as the title of ‘Blood Relations’ suggests, this is a play not just about murder, but family.

The domestic does feel claustrophobic and tense, whilst emotionally charged dialogue adds to a sense of oppressive and deeply unhappy family life. If it weren’t for some questionable Boston accents and the occasional awkwardness of lines being spoken over one another, it would have been easy to become fully immersed in this domestic setting.

“Emotionally charged dialogue adds to a sense of oppressive and deeply unhappy family life”

Getting past the initial confusion, it became clear that there were two Lizzie Bordens in this play (Irisa Kwok and Holly Varndell), who would switch interchangeably as time progressed. The play opened then, with what felt like both Lizzies talking to one another across the dining table. “Did you do it?” one asks, with no clear response from the other. Perhaps one Lizzie was guilty and the other innocent, or one was Lizzie before the act and the other after.

Regardless, under the direction of Tasmin Jones and Lily Isaacs, this performance played cleverly with the act of observation; sometimes Lizzie would sit as a member of the audience to observe the memories being acted out upon the stage, sometimes commenting on how things were different or important. In moments like these, the power of this performance really began to shine through: the events unfolding felt like a glimpse into Lizzie’s own attempts at reconciling the past trauma with herself, a self that is divided.

“There were, however, some moments of slightly weaker performances, with line slips and interrupted dialogue”

Both Kwok and Varndell put on an impressive performance - Kwok’s cries later in the play were powerful and emotionally charged, especially when she collapsed to the floor screaming after a heated argument with her father (Stefan Tuchel). The scenes between these two were amongst some of the strongest in the play. A parental dynamic that was equally painful, possessive and slightly disturbing was Lizzie’s jealousy towards her step mother (Miranda Evans), the source of most of the unsettling domestic atmosphere. There were however some moments of slightly weaker performances, with line slips and interrupted dialogue that can perhaps be put down to opening night nerves.

Flashes of Lizzie Borden’s murder trial into the narrative of memory created a sense that this was not a neutral performance, but rather one that was attempting to sway audiences towards believing the guilt or innocence of Lizzie. Audrey Hammer, playing both the flirtatious Dr Patrick and the legal Defence, transported audiences to the court case, defending an purported innocence in opposition to the events also unfolding onstage. Should we believe Lizzie’s memories to be true, or rather a narrative shaped by misogyny?

From what seemed to be a play about murder, there was surprisingly no murder on stage, but rather a sharp change to red lighting to indicate what was occurring. Sophie Richardson’s lighting design left a sense of ambiguity perhaps necessary to reflect the uncertainty of this case, and I for one was pleased with the lack of gore for the sake of dramatisation. This ending did however feel somewhat underwhelming; for a play that led audiences to long for resolution, certainty of truth was never granted. Yet perhaps, with an unsolved murder case that has become an object of popular culture, this refusal to portray speculation as truth is the best possible verdict.