Review: Never Let Me Go at Rose Theatre
Kazuo Ishiguro's acclaimed novel makes its British stage premiere
What if we lived in a world with clones everywhere?
Kazuo Ishiguro's multi-acclaimed coming-of-age novel of the same name, which is named one of 100 books in the 21st century by The Guardian and New York Times, is given a brand-new stage adaptation by screenwriter Suzanne Heathcote.
The play opens on a tall, bare stage with a bed placed upstage - everything about Tom Piper's semi-circular set of wooden structural panels and five swing double doors spread evenly across the stage seems to cleverly suggest a crossover between a hospital and a school, setting an ominous atmosphere for, as the audience later finds out, a dystopian tale.
As Marisha Wallace's voice is heard offstage in an original title track (composed by Eamonn O'Dwyer), Phillip meets his carer Kathy in the present day at a hospital, in an extended conversation on carers and a “life-threatening operation" before flashing back to Kathy's childhood days in a recount of life leading up to the present; without initial context, ambiguity seems central to the story, dropping seemingly unrelated hints that converge at the end to form a complete resolution.
The first hint revealed at the shift of timeline is Kathy's fear-inducing alma mater by the name of Hailsham, where teachers are referred to as ‘guardians’. When the same set springs to life transforming from hospital to Hailsham, we meet two other fellow students, Kathy's best friend and roommate Ruth and the bullied yet emotive Tommy.
Educated in a somewhat restrictive environment by guardians the likes of the strict headteacher Miss Emily (Susan Aderin) and the mysterious art teacher Madame (Emilie Patry), the unusual curriculum is driven by particular emphasis on creativity and ‘behaving like a normal human’. The cohort is released into the world of Post-16 education, unaware of their difference to others and the impact this has on their short-lived adult lives.
Much like on the page and on screen, Heathcote effectively builds tension with constant jump-cut scenes between two alternating timelines, signified by overlapping dialogue between scenes (also assisted by snapping between contrasting lighting) for the audience to collate puzzle-like clues, ultimately forming the adolescents’ unique identities as clones and the idea of their ‘possibles’ coexisting in the same world. Though as much as the means of storytelling is guaranteed to spark intrigue, it takes an extended exposition (to an extent that the first act spans almost 90 minutes) for crucial details to be made explicit, which for a theatre audience accustomed to a quick-moving plot within two acts can be a test of patience.
With a nine-strong cast, there is an opportunity to glimpse into the backstories of each new character as they are introduced and consciously developed. Nell Barlow leads the company in the role of Kathy, generating beautiful chemistry with both the extroverted Ruth (Matilda Bailes) and Angus Imrie's loveable Tommy. Susan Aderin and Emilie Patry's believable portrayals of the authoritative figures paves the way for the devastating truth uncovered towards the end of the piece back in the present day. Also featured is an ensemble, who multi-roles through the various time periods from toddlers to healthcare professionals.
The visual and auditory world contributes prominently to atmosphere-building, crucial for a piece requiring extensive context; Joshua Carr's gradient wash-based lighting is subtle yet gorgeous, indicative of shifts between time periods and in tandem with pace-setting soundscapes by Carolyn Downing, creates both tender and chilling canvas to move the story along. Though at a fairly conventional running time of 160 minutes split between two acts, the writing inevitably leans itself more naturally towards the film and television mediums; with Heathcote's most well known work primarily within those sectors, this is understandably reflected in a cyclical or serial style of storytelling. Whilst the story manages to find a resolution, it feels as though the interval, as much as plot development allows, was slightly misplaced - resulting in an enduring first act with a number of unexplained motifs such as a “deferral”.
Still, the piece remains a charming adaptation, successfully exposoing ‘fears, desires and vulnerabilities’ with care as promised in the writer's note and leaving the audience with thought that is thought-provoking and profound at the same time - of what it means to be human.
⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (4*)
Never Let Me Go plays at the Rose Theatre until 12 October, followed by a UK Tour until 30 November. For more information and to book London tickets, visit the Rose Theatre website.
Tickets & Accessibility
🎟️ Tickets were kindly gifted by the venue. All views are my own, without any input or opinion from the producers or venue. Standard tickets are priced from £15, with £5 tickets available for 18-30s.
♾️ The production features the use of haze and flashing lights throughout. At 9 mins into Act 1 the ensemble runs out using all swing doors shouting on the line “we had all our lessons". At 33 mins into there is a sudden loud thunder sound effect on the line “I'm sorry to interrupt you”, and again at 50 mins into Act 1 on the line “We were sent to the Cottages".
At 18 mins into Act 2, the music suddenly crescendoes as the lighting intensifies on the link “we should get there by…”. At 43 mins into Act 2, there is an intense movement sequence with flashing lights after the link “Now you're by yourselves”. All timings are approximate.