A Passion for Evil - Lowry Studio, Manchester, October 30

The first part of a pre-Hallowe’en double bill, A Passion for Evil is a one-man show based on the life of the Great Beast himself, Aleister Crowley. As is traditional with these things, the play takes the form of a self-justification by the subject, charting the main events of his life.

A Passion for Evil was developed by John Burns, and is very much a personal labour of love. It was performed the Edinburgh Festival in 201, where it came to the attention of the Lowry’s Theatre Programmer Porl Cooper, who invited Burns to take part in the theatre’s ‘In Development’ strand. The programme offers emerging writers and performers the opportunity to develop their work with the guidance of experienced directors. Burns was keen to take part, as he had struggled to become involved in any sort of artistic community in his native Highlands.

For this performance, Burns was directed by Nigel Fairs, who sought to ‘put a bit of theatrical polish on a deliciously raw and passionate piece’. He clearly took on board his mentor’s advice, as he used the Lowry’s studio space effectively throughout his hour long performance, and was an engaging stage presence. Employing only a small number of props (desk, hat stand, chair), he took his audience from a theatre in Sheffield to a villa in Sardinia, via the Himalayas and Mayfair society parties. Burns credits Fairs with ‘bringing the stage to life’ and ‘helping me to see the other characters that were on stage’. He also uses pre-recorded voices to represent the received opinions which he fought for all his adult life.

The play began with a theatrical flourish, as Crowley began to enact the ritual invocation of Horus, as part of a tour of music halls in his later life. The body of the performance, though, takes place backstage, as Crowley waits to go on. He reminisces on the sequence of events which has taken him from his puritan upbringing to notoriety, as a representation of the devil itself. He challenges the popular myth of Crowley (‘I made my children watch as my wife was fucked by a goat. Maybe that one was true…’) without idealising the man; he still rages, and seeks to justify himself.

When a life is presented in the form of a one man show, it can place greater emphasis on factual accuracy than would be expected from a play. From this point of view, A Passion for Evil seems to tick as many boxes as possible for such a controversial figure. More importantly, though, Burns is an engaging and charismatic performer, portraying Crowley with charm and flashes of humour mixed in with his anger and bitterness at the forces of conservatism which plagued him throughout his life.

A Passion for Evil manages to humanise Crowley, highlighting his actual achievements without becoming mired in interminable ‘magick’ mumbo-jumbo which can bog down his biographies. Instead, we see his early mountaineering achievements, his creation of a utopian commune with followers, his ‘scarlet women’, his drug use and his rejection of the Plymouth Brethren sect in which he was raised. We also see him as a child, murdering a cat to test out the theory of nine lives – ‘I felt a bit sorry for the cat. But that’s science’.

The play was bought into the Lowry Studio In Development programme because of its potential, and there is still an element of the show which remains a work in progress. Despite this, though, it makes for an enjoyable and engaging beginning to the evening, both as an entertainment in itself, and as an introduction to the life of an Edwardian to whom the term ‘eccentric’ does not do justice.