Till The Stars Come Down

From the previous run at the National Theatre in the Dorfman Auditorium. Some actors have now left the cast.

(seen at the performance on 8th February 2024)

Beth Steel grew up in a working-class Nottinghamshire mining family. This play draws on her own experiences, attempting to reconcile the recent past of the 80s mining strikes with the influx of Eastern European workers - the mainstay of the distribution warehouses built on the former pit sites.

In the middle are the working-class, multi-generational close-knit family communities. They are first to feel every change in society, whether political, economic or social and process it all through a prism of bitter resignation tinged with bitingly dark humour.

This time it is youngest sister Sylvia (Sinead Matthews) getting married to Polish immigrant Marek (Marc Wootton). A happy preparation and celebration in the first half turns black in the second as accusations and recriminations fly and secret liaisons are revealed.

Matthews and Wootton are perfectly matched. Her pre-wedding jitters and later testing of loyalty carry enough conviction to bolster a flagging sequence. His exuberance (shaking hands with the front row), common sense and disbelief at events create a man of integrity.

When the rest of the family are not arguing, they too put in some fine acting. Auntie Carol and Uncle Pete (Lorraine Ashbourne and Philip Whitchurch) are the archetypal aunt and uncle at the wedding. She wants to insert herself into everything, he’d rather be in his local pub. If they were not simply pretending to be married, they’d have killed each other by now for sure.

Certainly, homicidal as only young sisters can be, Leanne (Ruby Stokes) and Sarah (Cadence Williams) are equally believable. Williams as the scared child in the midst of inexplicably awful events and Stokes serving up the lies which trigger them. Well communicated by the young people.

Parents and aunts set little example as Hazel (Lucy Black), John (Derek Riddell), and Maggie (Lisa McGrillis) swim in a sex pond, er, hot tub (the best line in the play) of day-to-day mundanities before effortless banter becomes vicious division. Keeping the peace is father Tony (Alan Williams) in a simple, patrician role. His late attempts at reconciliation hinting at a whole second future play.

Samal Blak keeps events simple with an illuminated circle of grass onto which standard-issue home and wedding accoutrements are carried as required. Paule Constable suspends a glitterball above, for a flicker to match the emotions.

This all allows Bijan Sheibani to direct with a wonderful naturalistic fluidity. Punctuating this with occasional “time freezing gleeps” (“Out Of This World” fans will appreciate – not just the monkey’s in-house annual scoring system, a real US TV teen sitcom) and allowing a flourish to bring us in and dismiss us, it is impressive.

Caveats come with the writing. Many ideas arriving in the second half go unexplored, following often a rote pattern like “British lazy, immigrants good,” rather than exploring to find a truth.

Much to the monkey’s distress, it also appeared not to communicate clearly and fully to the National Theatre’s audience the prevailing class dynamic. In particular it was upset at the 
sniggers from a fair proportion of the audience over “buying a special dress from Peacock's.” A huge failure to educate that when on a limited income, such an effort is as special as buying couture, making the wearer feel good and lifting the entire family’s spirits as being able to feel wealthy sharing the joy of affording something new.

Even without a little extra balance in the drama, this is strong in the flavour of England 2023, a photograph and accompanying notes on life. Deserving of recognition as a valuable piece of living history and a starting point for future regeneration and hope.