Greeted with the soft noises of whistling wind and a bare stage with nothing on it besides a leaning, simple gallow, the air of tension and foreboding sets the tone of this grim play wonderfully, and prepares you for the edge-of-your-seat anxiety that permeates the rest of the show. The audience knows from the beginning that something awful has happened, and we’re immediately given the feeling that something else awful will happen again. It’s not long before the first half of our fears our validated. We quickly learn that Eleanor Thorn- the mother of Ann Thorn (Hannah Hutch) – has been hung as a witch.

With the hanging of Eleanor and the arrival of the overly zealous Reverend Samuel Crane (Tim Delap), all the women in Walkern are suddenly in danger of being branded a witch, and we dive into Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s exploration of sexism, sexuality, identity, and the danger of religious fervour that is Jane Wenham: The Witch of Walkern. The play unflinchingly looks at the prejudices, double standards, and violence the women of that time had to endure and are issues women still deal with today. Each action is scrutinised, their own sexuality is seen as something evil – a congress with the devil himself if not involving a husband – and those that refuse to conform like the herb-gathering, chicken-cuddling Jane Wenham (Amanda Bellamy) are in the most danger. The most saddening part, that still seems bitterly similar to issues today, is that the play’s men engaging in similar practices are at no risk of danger or near the same amount of judgement. Nearly each male character has an affair of some sort, and no one questions if the voices Crane hears are really from God or somewhere else.

Raw and otherworldly, this dark play is masterfully brought to life by a cast and a director who know what they’re doing and do it well. While no one performance seems to shine mightily over the others, I will say that when Rachel Sanders – as either the Widow Higgins or Bridget Hurst -appears, you know who owns that stage. The whole cast though brilliantly encapsulates a town under the thumb of their own fear with the looming spectre of religious judgement and expectations (helpfully illustrated by the ever present, cross-like gallow, which occasionally glows to remind you it is, in fact, cross-like) always just over their shoulders.

Jane Wenham: The Witch of Walkern is not a play for the faint of heart. While never gratuitously graphic or violent, it doesn’t shy away from the truths of its characters and makes a point to show that the threat of violence each woman faces can become all too real. What makes this an important play though, is the question of identity asked at the end. It asks what part of ourselves we’re denying or being forced to deny and whether it’s worth it, or if it would be better just to walk away into uncertainty, but sure of who you are.

Jane Wenham: The Wtich of Wlakern is playing the Arcola Theatre until 30 January. For more information and tickets, see Arcola Theatre website. Photo by Richard Davenport.