Our Arts correspondent Bryony Hegarty reviews David Harrower's play, Knives in Hens, which centres around the power of language and the developing self-awareness of a naïve but curious young woman.

She moves from grappling with language as a rudimentary tool, to understanding manipulation and imagery, and becomes independently powerful within her rural domain. Her journey is not one to find a new life but to gain control of the environment she inhabits. 'All I must do is push names into what is there, the same as when I push my knife into the stomach of a hen.'

In the compact space of the Arcola's Studio 2, immersed in the atmosphere of a simple pre-industrial agricultural life, my back against a cold stone wall adds to the experience. The proximity of the action is well handled. This is an intense drama, but the emotions and physicality of the actors are not over-bearing.

As the 'young woman', Jodie McNee portrays with skill the transition from fearful searching to premeditated action. Nathaniel Martello-White's Pony William the Ploughman, whilst knowing and controlling over his wife, has charisma. Phil Cheadle as The Miller is the hated outsider, feared and isolated, with his books and papers; yet he conveys the sense that he is misunderstood and a man who has suffered loss. The pace of the production is well sustained. Powerful live music from cellist, Maria Rijo, links the scenes of the play together seamlessly.

Serdar Bilis's production teases out the tangible and elemental versus the intellectual and suggestive in Harrower's text. Pony William 'owns' his wife yet he pushes her towards self-discovery whilst engaging in his own pursuits. The presence of God and of superstition is key to their lives. She accounts for the unfolding events as God's will. The morality of adultery and murder are somehow absent as the thrust of the narrative is her journey to self-discovery. The Miller is the only character who has the possibility of experiencing a life beyond a rural, God-led subservience.

All the scenes take place within one simple but effective set. The stables and horses are present by suggestion; a few props and skilful lighting move us from the dwelling of the ploughman and his 'woman' to the mill and the fields. There is a strong sense of both the physicality of the characters lives and the dream-like quality of their story. The 'young woman' labours on the land, feeds her husband, treads barefoot on a rough floor. Her dressing and undressing with Pony William and with the Miller convey intimacy and familiarity. When she washes, the Miller's presence is all around her, as she dreams of him flour runs through her hands. We hear the sound of running water whenever he is present in person or in mind.

Ultimately the approach to this challenging text has resulted in a light but well executed production.

Knives in Hens runs until 23 February

www.arcolatheatre.com