MUD

Image (above): Jasmine Prasser as Mae, Alex O’Connell as Henry, and George Oates as Lloyd sit around the table.

Salad Days Collective’s production of Maria Irene Fornes’ MUD at PIP Theatre is an unapologetically raw, hauntingly beautiful portrayal of poverty, power, and longing for freedom — and it’s hard to shake even after the final blackout.

Opening night set a celebratory tone with a glass of sparkling wine and live music in the outdoor foyer — featuring Tiffany Payne’s covers of feminine pop anthems. This lively pre-show atmosphere, though vibrant and buzzing with anticipation, ultimately stood in stark contrast to the grim, unrelenting world of the play itself. Upon entering the transformed theatre space, the choice of a thrust stage setup created an unsettling intimacy, positioning the audience on three sides and turning them into unwitting witnesses to both the onstage brutality and the raw, unfiltered reactions of those seated across from them. 

The cast delivered searing, unforgettable performances. Through each of their performances, Prasser, Oates, and O’Connell revealed the complexity of their characters' emotional and psychological struggles, making this production a poignant, devastating experience.

Image: Alex O’Connell as Henry dances with Jasmine Prasser as Mae.

Jasmine Prasser’s Mae was both resilient and heartbreakingly vulnerable, embodying the quiet, determined fight of a woman who knows she deserves better but is trapped by those who need her too much to let her go. A standout moment came during when Henry (Alex O’Connell) presented Mae with lipstick and a mirror in a gesture mocking a proposal before guiding her through her first dance. This scene, sweet yet heartbreaking, revealed Mae's deep desire for affection amidst the cruelty of her reality. Prasser’s vulnerability and strength in this moment were powerful, showing Mae’s desperate need for love, even from a man who ultimately failed her.

Playing Mae's not-brother, George Oates brought an unsettling, almost animalistic quality to Lloyd, his portrayal both fascinating and grotesque. Although Oates' spent much of the performance prowling the stage like a wounded toddler, he never crossed into caricature or comedy and carefully kept the audience’s empathy just out of reach. Oates gave Lloyd a deeply tragic quality that toed the line between pathetic and menacing, depicting a character who seemed doomed to his own self-destruction. His control over his physicality, especially in moments when he curled into himself or interacted with the environment, was nothing short of mesmerizing.

Image: George Oates as Lloyd curled up on the floor.

Meanwhile, Alex O’Connell’s Henry was a masterclass in controlled tension. His unrelenting, analytical stare cut through scenes like a knife, keeping the audience on edge with every moment of stillness. Henry’s high-strung, almost manic energy was gradually revealed as hiding a darker, more unscrupulous side. The precision in O’Connell’s delivery made Henry’s sudden turn to violence feel inevitable while still shocking, a testament to the careful layering of his performance. The powerful intensity of O’Connell’s eye contact made it clear that Henry’s violence wasn’t a spontaneous eruption but a carefully controlled, simmering threat. A standout scene between Henry and Lloyd saw them circling each other like wild animals, searching for dominance in a deadly game of power.

What made this production truly exceptional, however, was the synergy of the ensemble. Under Callum Johnson’s direction, MUD became a living, breathing entity — ugly, honest, and impossible to ignore. Prasser, Oates, and O’Connell navigated the script’s fragmented, rhythmic dialogue with a natural cadence that felt both raw and deliberate. Their interplay — especially in moments of silence — was electric. Each actor’s choices fed into the others, creating a tangled web of power, dependence, and desire that felt impossible to look away from. Even in the transitions, where many productions might allow the actors to break character, this trio remained locked into their roles, embodying the weight of the story even as the lights shifted and music crackled on. It’s rare to see a cast so thoroughly committed to sustaining the emotional throughline, and the result was immersive, unsettling, and deeply affecting.

Image: Sitting around a table, Jasmine Prasser as Mae shows Alex O’Connell as Henry an old pamphlet while George Oates as Lloyd looks on.

The production's use of space, lighting, and props heightened the intensity of the performances. Laurent Milton’s set design masterfully highlighted the contrast between Mae’s clean, ironed shirts and the mud-streaked, decaying world around her. White linens and lace, stained with dirt, hung in tattered layers from ceiling to floor, framing the space like a broken, distorted arch over their pigsty of a home. Meanwhile the antique furniture grounded the setting in an early colonial aesthetic and reinforced a sense of stagnation and hardship.

Image: A table and chairs on stage framed by draped white fabrics.

Lighting, designed by Noah Milne, also played an essential role in the storytelling. Subtle shifts in intensity throughout the scenes guided focus towards moments of tension while also creating a creeping sense of unease, sometimes to the point of nausea.

Additionally, the transitions between scenes were a remarkable aspect of the production that deserves recognition. Each transition left the actors frozen in place, like living photographs capturing the evolving, twisted dynamics between Mae, Lloyd, and Henry, while discordant, static-laden music played in the background – Why Do I Cry by Margo Guryan. Like finding the right frequency on a radio, this unsettling sound gradually became clearer throughout the play, mirroring Mae’s journey toward finding herself and symbolizing her emotional awakening.

Image: Alex O’Connell as Henry watches George Oates as Lloyd trying to read a book.

In the end, Mae’s situation, which seemed impossible to worsen at the start, spiralled further into despair with each passing scene. Her brief respite, in the form of a sweet romance with Henry, was tragically short-lived. The final moments of the play left Mae with two men who were both failures in their own right — men who used her for their own needs, without offering any real emotional support in return. Through each of their performances, Prasser, Oates, and O’Connell revealed the complexity of their characters' emotional and psychological struggles, making this production a poignant, devastating experience.

Image: Jasmine Prasser as Mae irons a shirt next to George Oates as Lloyd.

Salad Days Collective has proven once again that they are unafraid to push into the uncomfortable, emerging on the other side with something unforgettable. This production lingers, sticking to the soul like the mud smeared across the stage and leave you questioning the boundaries of your own reality. With mesmerizing performances, a visceral set, and an intense, immersive atmosphere, this show isn’t just something you watch — it’s something you feel. It’s raw, it’s powerful, and it will stay with you. Do not miss your chance to witness a performance that will haunt, provoke, and inspire.

Review by Rebecca Lynne

Photography by Karina Abassii

Tickets: https://piptheatre.org/mud/

Dates: 14^th to 22^nd of March

Venue: PIP Theatre, Milton

Salad Days Collective: https://www.saladdayscollective.org/