Leaves of Glass

Philip Ridley's domestic drama is a brilliantly thought provoking piece; posing questions about abuse, trauma and accountability, this is no easy watch, but a powerful one that grips its audience with rich characters and performances.

Seemingly ordinary on the surface, Leaves of Glass is a examination of grief and memory through the perspective of Steven, and his relationship with his brother, mother and wife. Yet the way in which Ridley crafts this deeply affecting story is anything but ordinary: the genius writing of the play allows for a deeply intimate experience for the audience as we explore the fragmented recollections of Steven's experiences, allowing an insight to the hazy recollections and trauma-ridden memories left in the wake of loss.

As a character study, the play heavily relies on its small cast of 4 to hold the close attention of the audience through nuanced and considered performances; the actors here do just that, led by Ned Costello who not once leaves the stage during its 1 hour and 45 minute duration. The best performance, however, was Joseph Potter as Barry, who brought such a real sense of fragility and brokenness to the character in a deep and honest way. I was engrossed whenever he was on stage, and in the final 20 minutes, delivers what is one of the best acting moments I've seen in a play - equally chilling as he is charming. Kacey Ainsworth and Katie Buchholz complete the cast with wonderful complimentary performances as Liz and Debbie, and each actors commitment to their roles is utterly commendable: these are characterisations which feel entirely real.

The set design by Kit Hinchliffe is minimalistic yet surprisingly deceptive - a reflective surface covers the floor surrounded by four plain benches - creating a liminal space somewhat representative of the interior of Steven's mind. It's not that this is a set with any tricks up its sleeve, but moreso that the lack of a significant set allows for the performances to shine, unrestricted and without distraction. Equally, the in-the-round staging creates a sense of claustrophobia and intrusion; the intimacy with which this play was presented amplified every emotion to the extreme. Similarly can be said for the lighting design by Alex Lewer: there is little in the way of elaborate lighting, and the most impactful moments of the show come when the lighting is at its most simplistic. All of this acts to merely aid rather than obscure the phenomenal writing here, as while technically this show is somewhat low budget and underwhelming, the script dazzles without the need for support.

I do have some mild reservations about the show: most significantly I feel like the plot is slightly too conventional in its subject matter and themes. This is hardly the first time we're seeing a play that deals with loss and trauma, and the play seems to add little of note to the discussion in neither its staging of the ideas or the ideas themselves. That being said, the play does execute such a discussion with great artistic merit and authenticity. If you're looking for a play on the shorter side that poses serious questions through brilliant performances, then Leaves of Glass is a great night at the theatre for you.

Leaves of Glass has since completed its short tour of UK theatres.

[Watched 08/07/23]

Photography credit: Mark Senior