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Review: Delay (Bristol Old Vic, Weston Studio)

Review by Seth Wilby


⭐️⭐️⭐️


Most of us can probably never imagine going to space. It’s hard to grasp the concept of being so far from all we know, and from those we love. Then, add to that the theory of relativity and the separation is not just in distance… but in time itself. Days for you are decades for those you left behind, and you’re trapped knowing that everything is moving on without you. That is the concept that is tackled in the new play ‘Delay’. But, speeding through the stars, would this play be able to earn many of its own?


Premiering at the Bristol Old Vic’s Studio Space, Delay follows the journey of Lin, the sole human occupant of the Oshūn spacecraft, who is making a pioneering mission to the planet of Nova. The play sees Lin grapple with his separation from his lover, Silas, who he can communicate with only through the exchange of voice messages. Over the 66 days that we are with Lin, Silas ages from thirty-two to ninety-five, and, through their messages, both struggle to comprehend this separation, and their love is tested to the limit as they both try to say goodbye.



Written by Timothy X Atack, these characters feel deeply relatable, and, despite the sci-fi backdrop, this is a play about human relationships for the most part, with Atack never choosing to delve into the alien concepts or confusing physics behind the narrative. However, there is some interesting social commentary on pandemics, the climate crisis, and artificial intelligence. Through small glimpses into the lives of both Lin and Silas, Atack manages to create fully developed characters who change throughout the play in a way that the audience both understands and empathises with. We experience little more than the messages sent between the two, yet Atack still accomplishes a subtly profound exploration into grief, hope and heartbreak. Perhaps this heartbreak could be even deeper, or the play’s more humorous lines (of which there are several) could be less sparse, but there’s certainly no denying that Atack knows how to craft good characters.



With the action taking place entirely on Lin’s spaceship, an intricate atmosphere is necessary, and Tanuja Amarasuriya’s direction accomplishes this, to some extent. It’s always going to be a struggle to keep a solo show engaging for eighty minutes, but the audience rarely drifts, although some extra differentiation between scenes wouldn’t have gone amiss. Beyond two more dramatic moments in the latter half, the action does slightly sag. 


Amarasuriya shows a strong awareness of the space (which sees the audience sat on three sides of the stage), and moments where Lin turns to face the back of the stage are impactfully placed. Alex Fernandes’ lighting design is superbly atmospheric and manages to fully convey impactful changes in time and scene, successfully bringing to life Bronia Housman’s scenic design, which is an appropriately platformed (although slightly clunky) setting. Composition and sound design (also by Atack) do wonders in creating a slightly pained atmosphere, tying in perfectly to the script’s references to the sounds of Earth.



Each scene is based around a different message between Silas and Lin, yet, as a one-person show, this means that, for nearly half the show, we are just listening instead of watching. Although only hearing Silas’ voice helps the audience connect to Lin’s struggles, it does leave the play sometimes feeling more like an audiobook. Sometimes, this isn’t an issue, with Lin’s reactions engrossing enough, yet, with numerous different messages from Silas across the play (some of which feel very long), there isn’t enough to consistently keep the audience’s full attention. Perhaps the writing needs slightly less of Silas and more of Lin, or maybe the direction needs to give Lin a fuller way of reacting to each message. Either way, the play’s emotional impact never reaches its full potential. Although an interesting concept that isn’t achieved poorly, the structure of the play is too weak to ever allow it to reach rocket heights.



It’s rare to have to review performances based on only their voices, but for this play, it is necessary. Alex Lawther is the voice of Silas, and he does brilliantly at bringing this character to life through only his audio messages. Silas is sarcastic yet sorrowful, and a whole expansive world of emotions is conveyed by Lawther, who also shows some great, subtle changes in his voice to demonstrate Silas’ ageing. 


We genuinely connect to Silas’ grief and struggle through only limited glimpses, with Lawther managing to indicate feelings of genuine pain behind his attempts to support Lin. The other member of the voice cast is Vera Chok, who voices Auto, the ship’s onboard announcement software. Admittedly, this is an artificial and emotionless role (as it should be, to properly demonstrate Lin’s isolation), yet Chok does have some wit in the delivery of certain lines.



The cast is completed by Jyuddah Jaymes as Lin, who gives an absolutely brilliant star performance. Jaymes holds the weight of this show on his shoulders and consistently steers it in all the right directions. The final few scenes are truly devastating to watch him go through, yet there is a mask of attempted false hope throughout. Jaymes’ performance is charismatic, hopeful and tragic all at the same time, constantly switching between signs of panic, an inescapable grief and a need for escape. He also manages to create genuine chemistry with the voices of Silas and, somehow, Auto as well. Lin may be isolated with only his thoughts, but Jaymes’ performance feels fully explored.


The posters describe Delay as ‘a queer sci-fi heartbreaker’ and in many ways it could be considered that. At its core, Delay is a play about how we live with grief and preserve our human relationships, which we can all connect to. Although slightly limited by its interesting structure, there’s no denying that its concept shall stay with you after you leave the theatre from a play that is, rather ironically, very down to Earth. It's nothing out of this world, but certainly seems to be orbiting on the edge of greatness.



Photos by Paul Blakemore

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