Under Milk Wood started life as a radio play, which should mean that the words give us all the picture we need. But of course that’s not how theatre works, we want something to feast our eyes on too. There were great notes in this production, some of them literal, from a huge cast and crew. But adapting radio drama for the stage can be tricky - with one set of constraints removed, the choices become too wide. As the programme states “we draw on every element in our theatrical toolkit to pair Thomas’ language with equally rich and vivid visuals”. And I think therein lay the root of the aspects which didn’t work so well.

The music was great; the band even included a harp! The combination of instruments was folky enough for everyday village life and haunting at the right times. Likewise the Foley team, washing the shore, ringing the bells, setting the scene. There was also some really good singing, especially Esme Dannatt who not only has a fine voice, but more importantly used it to make Polly Garter a sympathetic and pitiable rather than a lascivious figure.

The difficulty with the sound was really one of balance, with the violin and sound effects especially threatening to take over the voices, especially when the voices were muffled by lying down, being choked with emotion, or just murmured for effect. The language should have been king, and much of it was inaudible. Notable exceptions were Esther O’Neill as one of the narrators, and Jack Harris who was clear even when screeching at Mrs Pugh. (Intriguingly his on-going plot to poison her did not merit a content warning, though perhaps “death” covers a multitude of sins.) Footsteps were definitely to blame for some of the problems, and on a floor that resonant I think bare feet or dance shoes are the only solution.

There were so many good interactions, effective where the cast were all on stage at once, so we could see Polly Garter being shunned, or the womenfolk giggling together. Mrs Organ Morgan (Jess Phillips) got laughs for her martyrdom, playing second fiddle to Bach in her own home. Willy Nilly (Tom Onslow) was a brilliant busy-body. And in general the multiple characters worked and we could tell who was who. But Captain Cat definitely needs to learn how people held pipes in the olden days - not like a cigar!

In an old-school twist, an OHP was used to great effect, populating the environs with scenery, portraits, shadow shapes, and generally being a live animation tool. The billowy clouds floating above us were very atmospheric (though if they were symbolising the pall of sleep I felt they should reappear at the end of the day). Puppetry also made several appearances, again well used and very effective. There were lots of ideas like this that popped up then died away, and some paring back and deepening of what was left would have strengthened the message. Even the narration took two very different approaches, with Bea Smalley using a style I think of as “naturalistic offhand Shakespeare”. Neither narrator at any rate attempted the singsong lilt that allows so many shocking statements to slip in as if inevitable. It felt at times like a lot of jigsaw pieces, each well painted and bright, but not assembled into more than the sum of their parts.

Ultimately, I wasn’t sure what the director Ted Fussell was trying to say. Under Milk Wood has a comic surface and a deeply sad underbelly. Its morality is not ours, its characters now should shock us in different ways. So it isn’t enough just to say "look here are lots of people!". Or maybe it is! Perhaps in current climes, 50 people coming together to put on a play this big is a great thing to celebrate in its own right. You’ll have to go and see it for yourself, and enjoy whichever stars jump out at you on this moonless night.