Review: Mass (Donmar Warehouse)

Review by Daz Gale

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 

One of the breakout hits of last year was the unstoppable Punch, enjoying two acclaimed runs in London and winning two Olivier Awards in the process. Its theme of restorative justice is echoed in what may be one of this year’s hardest-hitting plays - the world premiere stage adaptation of Mass at the Donmar Warehouse. In a year that is already proving incredibly impressive for plays, just four months in, would this have enough mass appeal to be a contender?

Where I always strive to keep these reviews as spoiler-free as possible, it is nearly impossible to talk about Mass and do it justice without revealing some of the gut-punch moments. To appropriately discuss its complex themes, it is important to state what exactly the plot is, though rest assured, I won’t be revealing the moments that audiences need to experience for themselves.

Originally a 2021 movie written by Fran Kranz, I was unaware of Mass prior to seeing this play, so the context of the story remained a mystery to me until it all played out on stage. The action takes place in real time in a quiet room of an Episcopal church where two couples meet face to face, years after a tragedy that brought them together. Both couples lost a child at a school shooting - the only difference is that the killer was the son of one of the couples, taking the life of the other, among other victims. Through a restorative justice meeting, the four people attempt to navigate their grief and find some sort of closure or way of healing so they can move forward with their lives in less pain than before.

Original writer Fran Kranz has adapted his story for the stage in a way that makes the best use of the live setting, ensuring maximum impact and an uncomfortably raw and emotional performance. A testament to his exceptional writing is the way the puzzle pieces slowly come together to reveal what has happened. If you go into Mass unaware of why these two couples are meeting, it is intriguing as you try to make sense of it all, before a huge revelation brings everything into the light, and the play transforms to trying to make sense of motive and why what happened happened.

The intelligence and depth in the writing are among the greatest I have ever seen, exemplified by the multiple meanings in the title. How one word can take on such extreme contrasts isn’t just a stroke of genius; it’s a perfect example of the standard in this play, with seemingly inconsequential details such as a largely comedic character’s seemingly inoffensive substitute for profanity being all the more awkward, given the subject matter. Throughout the course of the unrelenting 1 hour and 40 minutes (I lost all sense of time and found myself surprised at how quickly it passed), the themes of grief, survival, guilt, blame, healing, and regret all play out in increasingly complex fashion.

Complex is the keyword when talking about Mass. These are not straightforward themes and emotions that are being navigated. They can be wild, unpredictable and ugly - Kranz explores this with such attention to detail in his writing, I wondered whether the play had been influenced by verbatim testimonies of real victims' parents. It isn’t just the vast grief that plays out in Mass, it is all of the consequences of the grief - before and after. Both couples are trying to find a new normal, following the loss of their sons, with one questioning if they can still love their departed child, given the atrocity of what he did in his final act. It is an immensely thought-provoking subject matter, handled with such sensitivity and care, always feeling raw and authentic.

There are seven characters in Mass, though three of them bookend the arrival of the main four, again seemingly proving inconsequential to the story - deceptively so, given a parallel that can be made in the underexplored but hinted relationship of two of them. Each of the four parents gets their own moment in the spotlight - playing out in real time, the four sit around a table for the vast majority of the one-act play, meaning much of the time they are focusing on listening and reacting, but tensions have a habit of rising to the surface, and each get a turn to say what’s really on their mind, exploring the intricacies and complexities of their shared grief but very different trauma.

While Kranz's impeccable writing lays the foundations for a masterclass play, Carrie Cracknell elevates this further with her outstandingly effective direction. The level of detail in all of the characters demonstrates a meticulous eye for detail - it is in the reactions of the characters not speaking that showcase how well-rounded and thought out each is, with nervous responses such as a tapping foot or shifting in their seat, a testament to how precise Cracknell has honed in on every choice. Though Anna Yates' set design is deceptively large, giving a sense of a much wider space than the rather cosy Donmar Warehouse, the primary focus of the play rests on one table, and the four grieving parents sat around it, with a beautifully subtle revolve put to strong use, ensuring each action and reaction is caught in the most captivating way.

The four main cast members take this direction and use it to their advantage, effortlessly displaying their incredible talents as actors. Though each shines in their own right, they also work as an ensemble, pushing each other and standing out as a collective. Adeel Akhtar patiently waits calmly as Jay before tensions boil and he provides one of the most explosive and emotive moments of the play, performed with an authenticity that felt uncomfortably real. Paul Hilton similarly kept his cards close to his chest as Richard, with a touch of “stiff upper lip” that gradually faded away, revealing the sadness and conflicts he was feeling,

Lyndsey Marshal often felt as if she was on a knife-edge as Gail, in a heart-wrenching watch as she grappled with a loss she may never recover from. However, the standout performance came from Monica Dolan, who had my jaw on the floor from the moment she walked onto the stage as Linda, committing to her character before she even sat down. The detail in her character saw her shaking and on the verge of tears before a word had even been spoken, and this level of commitment didn’t just keep up for the remainder of the play; it excelled. While all four main characters are fantastic in their own right, what Dolan does in this performance is nothing short of extraordinary - not just convincing, but disturbingly real and one of the single greatest character performances I have seen in quite some time. A special mention must also go to Amari Bacchus, Rochelle Rose and Susie Trayling for their small but mighty roles book-ending the play.

Mass also thrives in its design elements, with Anna Yates sprawling set design bearing more than a passing resemblance to another of the Donmar’s greatest hits from recent years, Next To Normal. Guy Hoare’s lighting is another stunning addition, with a seemingly passing reference to the beauty of the skylight windows at the start of the play put into good use for the climax in a strikingly beautiful moment that, paired with the inspired use of sound and music, brought a sense of catharsis to the evening, and the healing that each of the four parents so desperately sought.

Mass asks some very interesting questions that gave me pause for thought on my journey home. Namely, who are the victims when something as awful as a school shooting happens? It isn’t just those caught up in the fire; it is those who are left behind. While the parents of the innocent are easy to spare a thought for, the same courtesy may not be afforded to the parents of the murderer, who may be blamed as much as they blame themselves. It is a bold and distinct subject to make a play about, and the exquisite way Mass addresses this balance is a chief contributor to its remarkable success. 

It is very obvious to compare Mass to Punch due to its restorative justice themes. However, this play opts to explore very different themes, offering more depth and uncomfortable truths in its search for answers. It would be unfair to say which of the two is better, though it is fair to say Mass is every bit as good as the play that blew everyone away last year, and still is in its multiple iterations on both sides of the Atlantic. What I can say is I found myself having far more of an emotional response to this one in particular, with the very real questions and complex themes brought up still lingering on my mind long after the play concluded. 2026 is proving to be a very strong year for plays in particular, and Mass is up there with the very best of them. We may have two-thirds of the year left to go, but it would be very difficult for anything to surpass the standard you can currently see at the Donmar Warehouse. A gripping watch from start to finish, this thought-provoking show is as powerful as theatre gets - Fran Kranz really has created a masterpiece with this play that deserves to be seen by the masses, and I would recommend you do whatever you can to secure a ticket while you still can - I’m not understating it when I say that Mass is an absolute must-see.

Mass plays at Donmar Warehouse until 6th June. Tickets from https://www.donmarwarehouse.com/events/mass 

Photos by Richard Hubert Smith.