Review: The Unbelievers (Royal Court Theatre)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Sometimes an event is so earth-shattering, so impossible to move past, that your very world seems to have changed afterwards. Such is the state in which we find Miriam, the struggling mother at the centre of Nick Payne’s newest play, The Unbelievers. In its Royal Court premiere, directed by Marianne Elliott, the show explores the myriad of ways a family both comes together and falls apart in a time of great suffering, and how sometimes we simply can’t move past these world-altering events.

We meet Miriam and her family sometime after youngest child Oscar’s disappearance, with her daughter Margaret and soon-to-be ex husband David horrified to hear of the latest ordeal Miriam has faced following up a potential sighting. As the story moves back and forth through the years following his disappearance, we see the family go through their respective processes of guilt, grief, and attempting to move forward, while the one consistency is Miriam, whose mental state seems frozen and whose erratic behaviour gradually strains connections with her loved ones.

Bunny Christie’s set design splits the stage in two, with the rear half fashioned as a waiting room, in which Elliott holds her actors until they step forward to shift to the next non-linear scene. As well as mirroring the countless hours the family likely spent waiting for this interview or that meeting to discuss the progress of the case, the staging also helps to cement Miriam’s changed life, in which people seem to be waiting in the wings to enter and offer support, only to return to the periphery when they feel she has become too much to handle.

Running for less than two hours without interruption, The Unbelievers never drags or feels like its outstaying its welcome. That’s not to say it’s without fault, though, as the dialogue can feel slightly rigid – possibly demonstrating strained connection, but to me it just sounded unusual formal – and efforts to affirm the contemporary setting come across stilted. It’s mildly funny when an overlong explanation to the police trails off into the patriarch’s irrational hatred for vegans, but a moment where Miriam stumbles with her eldest child’s they/them pronouns feels slightly forced, the identity not being neither new to the family nor relevant to the surrounding scene.

When Payne’s dialogue is at its strongest however, it flies easily between characters and fully forms the family members long before much detail of their lives has been shown. There is also, despite the harrowing set-up, plenty of laughter to be found in his script, particularly when Lucy Thackeray, one of several multi-rolling cast members, makes a late appearance as David’s new wife. The entire company show a knack for one liners and firm comic timing, but Thackeray’s appearance as Lorraine is so richly comedic, and shortly after so tragically defeating, that she stands out more than much of the initial family unit.

In a cast of nine, many of the actors slip seamlessly between disparate roles, from officers to stepmothers, psychics to lovers. Harry Hershaw is another late-show standout as Benjamin, the disastrously dull partner of Margaret, herself played with a cutting, sardonic quality by Ella Lily Hyland. Though each actor has their moments, the centre-piece of The Unbelievers is Nicola Walker’s ever-present Miriam, who she steers through a disjointed arc as captivating as it is catastrophic. A near-the-end meltdown is particularly memorable, with Walker rattling at breakneck speed through snippets of dialogue from across the non-linear scenes that preceded it, not only an impressive feat of memory but a striking moment of raw emotion on stage.

Elliott maintains a disconnected quality between the characters throughout, which though it can create moments of awkwardness that don’t quite seem intentional, does reflect well the growing divides between Miriam and those around her. Etta Murfitt’s movement direction proves very effective once Miriam becomes more noticeably erratic, more chaotic in her mannerisms, and Jack Knowles’ too-bright lighting keeps in focus just how seen this family would have become, how inescapable and impossible to ignore this tragic component of their history truly is.

There’s something about The Unbelievers that didn’t quite connect with me, some detachment that I couldn’t quite find a way past. This isn’t to say that there isn’t great power in the piece, as the tears of a patron nearby me would attest to, nor that there is not plenty of skill on display from these veteran creatives. Payne has put onto paper, and Elliott onto the stage, the lack of reason and the fracturing of time itself that come with tragedy, and though I wasn’t able to find a real connection to The Unbelievers, I have no doubt that it’s command of these earth-shattering themes will resonate with many.

The Unbelievers plays at the Royal Court Theatre until November 29^th

For tickets and information visit https://royalcourttheatre.com/events/the-unbelievers/

Photos by Brinkhoff Moegenburg