“Asking Questions to Which There Are No Easy Answers”: Abigail Hood on Her New Play Monster

Abigail Hood is the writer and performer of Monster, a play exploring childhood violence, trauma, and the possibility of redemption. Following acclaimed previous runs, Monster returns to London this autumn for a limited season at Seven Dials Playhouse. In this interview with Cultural Dose, Abigail reflects on her path from child performer to playwright, the challenges of writing about disturbing real-life cases, and how theatre can open up difficult but necessary conversations.

What first inspired you to become a playwright and performer?

My inspiration to become a performer came when I was nine years old and selected as one of the juvenile dancers in the annual professional pantomime at the Theatre Royal in Bury St Edmunds, my hometown. The whole process was glorious: Sunday dance calls, a week of intensive rehearsals in the theatre with the professionals before opening, and then eight weeks of daily performances—I was in heaven! We were only allowed to do one show a day, but I would gladly have done both. I loved everything about being in the theatre: the magic of the stage, the camaraderie of working together, and the joy of sharing the final performance with an audience. My mum still remembers how I could (and would) recite the entire pantomime, playing every role! Though I was a shy child in everyday life, on stage something else would take over.

I didn’t consciously decide to become a playwright, but I’ve always loved telling stories. It wasn’t until a period of ‘resting’ as an actor that I finally began to write. Still, I think the spark was lit much earlier, during one of my first professional acting jobs—playing Alice in the original production of Polly Stenham’s That Face at the Royal Court—when I witnessed the extraordinary impact a play can have. Seeing how it provoked conversations, challenged perspectives, and demanded urgent social reflection made me want to create work with that same power. 

I’m also hugely inspired by the writing of Simon Stephens, Mike Bartlett, and Phoebe Waller-Bridge, who write with honesty and urgency about the world we live in now. For me, the impulse to write comes from a need to explore the “grey areas” of life—those complex, uncomfortable spaces that, when shared on stage, might help us understand each other a little better and, hopefully, nurture a more tolerant society.

This all said, I think I was always destined to become an actor and writer. A few weeks ago, I found some old schoolwork from when I was twelve: the task was to write an autobiography (an ambitious undertaking for twelve-year-olds!) and we’d been asked to brainstorm facts about ourselves. Under the ‘likes’ category, I had written: acting, dancing, and writing stories.

You’ve said the story of Mary Bell [An 11-year-old girl sentenced to life in prison back in 1968 for killing two small boys] “touched your very soul” and left you both horrified and moved. Why do you think it affected you so deeply?

I think it affected me so deeply because I felt pulled in so many conflicting directions. I was horrified and sickened by what Mary Bell had done, but when I learned about the cruelty and abuse she endured from such a young age, I was incredulous that no one had intervened. Alongside the grief I felt for the little boys whose lives were cut short, and for the devastation their families were left to carry, I also felt a deep sadness for the childhood Mary was denied and for the opportunities she might have had if she had been guided and protected before committing such crimes. Even though she went on to build a life as an adult, it is inevitably shadowed by remorse and the heavy burden of her past. Her actions are in no way excusable, but it shook me to realise how completely she had been failed—and that no one was able to save her from herself.

How did you approach writing about such sensitive and disturbing material while avoiding sensationalism? Is that a difficult process? 

Yes, it was difficult! My intention with the play has always been to explore the conditions that might lead a young person to commit such a heinous crime, and then to examine the far-reaching consequences—the lives destroyed and the infinite suffering left in its wake. Approaching the subject from this angle meant I wasn’t seeking to sensationalise but instead grounding the characters in copious research so they could be as nuanced and complex as possible. In this, slightly rewritten, version of the play I have made a conscious choice not to put the violence on stage: it is inferred, sometimes heard, but never shown. I was also acutely aware that I was dealing with deeply sensitive issues and asking questions to which there are no easy answers.

Do you think writing Monster changed your own perspective on forgiveness or rehabilitation?

That’s a very difficult question to answer. I think writing the play has probably muddied my thinking, because I’ve been forced to consider the issue much more deeply. Before writing Monster, I probably would have thought that anyone capable of murdering a child must be truly evil and should be kept away from others to ensure they could never do it again. But after so much research, I’ve come to see that sometimes a monstrous act is not necessarily committed by a monster. If there is genuine repentance and the burden of guilt is deeply felt, then perhaps rehabilitation is possible—though I believe it has to be judged on a case-by-case basis.

As for forgiveness, I think it is always personal. From my research I’ve learned that some victims’ families find forgiveness healing, while for others it feels impossible. If someone murdered the person I love most, would I forgive them? The honest answer is probably not. But should they be given the chance to find a better version of themselves? I think yes.

The play is supported by Advance, a charity working with women and girls affected by abuse. Can you tell us more about that partnership?

Yes, one of the main aims of the play is to provoke audiences into thinking about how society treats vulnerable young people, and in particular young women, which I believe is an incredibly important issue. This is why the production is supporting and supported by Advance, a charity that helps women and girls who experience violence and abuse, which can in some cases lead to their being trapped in a cycle of abuse and criminality. Advance helps them break this cycle and regain control of their lives. As part of this partnership, a number of young women will take part in workshops led by Advance before seeing the play, giving them space to explore its themes in more depth. There will also be post-show Q&A sessions with representatives from Advance on Thursday 2nd and Thursday 9th October. If you would like to find out more about the work Advance do, or would like to donate, please follow the link: www.advancecharity.org.uk  

What do you hope is next for Monster?

It’s my hope that during this run the production will be seen by schools, colleges, and universities—and maybe even become part of their syllabuses. I’d also love for the play to tour, hopefully inspiring conversations across the country about justice, rehabilitation, and forgiveness. And beyond that…Broadway?!

Monster is at the Seven Dials Playhouse from 24^th September – 18^th October. For tickets and more information, visit: https://www.sevendialsplayhouse.co.uk/shows/monster