Playwright and actor Abigail Hood has never shied away from difficult questions, and her award-winning play Monster proves it. Inspired by real-life cases like Mary Bell and James Bulger, the play explores childhood violence, redemption, and the fragile line between victim and perpetrator. With its dual timelines and unflinching subject matter, Monster has captivated audiences and critics alike. We caught up with Abigail Hood to discuss the inspirations, challenges, and urgent themes behind the play.
MONSTER is both unflinching and deeply human. What first compelled you to write about childhood violence and redemption?
I felt compelled after reading an article about Maxine Carr – the woman who, as an adult, gave Ian Huntley a false alibi after the Soham murders in 2002 – and discovering that she had gone on to build a new life and marry. I couldn’t stop wondering how someone goes on living after being part of something so terrible?
That thought turned my mind to childhood crimes, and I kept asking myself how a person carries such a burden into adulthood if they committed something so awful as a child. Is it fair—or even right—that they should be able to build another life? And just as importantly, how does a bereaved parent come to terms with losing a child at the hands of another child? Could they ever forgive?
Those questions became the starting point for Monster, and the play grew from my attempt to grapple with the contradiction: how one child can be both a perpetrator of profound harm and, at the same time, a fragile victim of circumstance.
The play draws inspiration from real-life cases like Mary Bell and James Bulger. How did you balance research with fictional storytelling?
In writing Monster, I wanted to respond to real-world cases without ever attempting to retell them. I read extensively about Mary Bell, James Bulger, and others because it was important to ground the play in truth and to understand the social, psychological, and systemic factors surrounding these crimes. But the characters and story in Monster are fictional. My aim was not to dramatise a particular case, but to explore the themes those stories raised: culpability, forgiveness, justice, and the treatment of vulnerable young people. In that sense, the research gave me insight and depth, but fiction gave me the freedom to ask questions without depicting someone else’s life directly.
Kayleigh’s story is heartbreaking yet provocative. How did you approach writing a character who commits such a violent act at 15?
Writing Kayleigh was a challenge because I knew I had to tread carefully—not sensationalising, not excusing what she does. I approached her with empathy rather than judgment, trying to imagine the vulnerabilities and circumstances that might push a young person toward such a terrible act. I never wanted to excuse her actions – they are inexcusable – but I wanted to show the complexity of a life shaped by trauma, and how cycles of harm can spiral when no one steps in. More than anything, I wanted Kayleigh to feel real, because real children are this vulnerable, and when they fall through the cracks the consequences can be devastating. My research into childhood trauma and neglect gave me insight into how patterns of abuse can shape behaviour, but never as justification – just context. For me, it was about portraying Kayleigh as both a perpetrator and, in many ways, a victim herself. I hope audiences leave the theatre wrestling with that complexity, asking not just “how could she do this?” but also “how could society have failed her so badly?”
Forgiveness and rehabilitation are central themes. Do you believe society truly allows people to move on from childhood crimes?
I don’t think there’s a simple answer. On the one hand, I believe many people do want to see young offenders rehabilitated, but in reality, society often struggles to let go of the crime—particularly if the crime was violent or had fatal consequences—no matter how much time has passed or how young the person was when it happened. As a society, we remember the names of children who have committed heinous crimes (as it is so shocking), and even if those children are given anonymity, I suspect they will never be fully freed from their past identities. Writing Monster made me realise just how complicated it is: the victims’ families are left with unimaginable pain, while the perpetrator must live forever with what they’ve done. In cases where the outcome is fatal, I don’t know if anyone involved can ever truly ‘move on,’ as the loss for the victims’ families is so profound.
The play moves between Kayleigh’s teenage years and adulthood. How did that dual timeline help you explore trauma and its long-term effects?
When writing the play, I wanted to show that, as in many real-life cases, Kayleigh’s violent act was influenced by—though never excusable because of—the abuse and lack of love she experienced from a young age. Using a dual timeline allowed me to hold these two versions of her side by side: the vulnerable teenager who slipped through the cracks, and the adult living with the lifelong burden of what she did. I wanted the audience to see her first as a victim before she became a perpetrator, and then to feel the weight of how a single moment of violence shadows everything that comes after. In that way, the structure makes visible both the roots of the act and its devastating long-term effects.
This structure also allowed me to depict the long-term effects of trauma on the victim’s family: the first half of the play shows them full of hope and excitement for the future, while the second half reveals them broken—their lives shattered and left with infinite pain.
MONSTER has already won awards and critical acclaim. What do you think makes audiences connect so strongly with this difficult subject?
I think audiences connect so strongly with Monster because cases of children who kill are both horrifying and incomprehensible. Most of us can’t imagine how such an act is possible, and so we feel compelled to try to understand it. That combination of shock and the need to understand is powerful. At the same time, I believe the play resonates because it refuses to present things in black and white. My hope is that audiences warm to Kayleigh to begin with, and then feel conflicted when confronted with the devastation she causes. It’s my intention that they leave not with neat answers, but with questions about justice, forgiveness, and how society treats its most vulnerable.
The revived production brings back original cast members alongside new voices. How do these changes shift the energy of the play?
Welcoming new actors into the company is bringing a completely fresh energy. They ask different questions, notice different things, and push the material in new directions. The balance between the familiarity of those who know the play inside out and the freshness of new voices is creating a real spark in the rehearsal room. I’m certainly finding that working with the new actors is bringing a different feel to the play, as relationships shift and choices aren’t always the same as in the original production.
Beyond theatre, MONSTER also supports Advance, a charity for women affected by violence. Why was it important for you to link the play to real-world support?
One of the main aims of Monster is to provoke audiences to think about how society treats vulnerable young people, particularly young women, which I believe is an incredibly important issue. This is why the production is both 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 Advance representatives on Thursday 2nd and Thursday 9th October.
For me, connecting Monster to real-world support like this makes the work feel purposeful beyond the theatre—it’s a chance to inspire reflection, conversation, and, hopefully, positive change.
If you’d like to find out more about Advance’s work, or make a donation, please visit: www.advancecharity.org.uk