Review: Never Closer is acutely emotive

Written by Grace Chapple, directed by Hannah Goodwin

Review by Charlotte Smee

Older than most other written forms, bar the Latin and Greek tradition, Irish literature is unique because it has been written in both Gaelic and English, and often incorrectly adopted by the British. This duality, and ability to live through conflict, has resulted in a long line of fascinatingly nuanced plays, films, poetry and other art. More recently Lisa McGee’s Derry Girls, set during the Troubles, follows a hilariously relatable group of teenagers trying to figure out who they are while bombings happen around them. Sally Rooney’s novels Normal People and Conversations with Friends have been adapted into TV shows (with varying levels of success) and are hailed for their unflinching depictions of young people at the brink of change — early in their university careers, they move away from their suffocating history. These works are so fascinating because they depict the complexity of human relationships first, while still being acutely aware of the political and social context they are forged in.

Never Closer is one of these acutely emotive stories. Grace Chapple’s mum grew up in Northern Ireland, in a tiny little town with too many pubs and many more bombings. Chapple writes a town like this as the setting for two Christmas parties, one in 1977 and the second in 1987, with the same group of friends. Deirdre (Emma Diaz) has lived in that tiny town since high school and feels trapped there. Her friend Niamh (Mabel Li) is moving to London, leaving Jimmy (Raj Labade), Mary (Ariadne Sgouros), and boyfriend Conor (Adam Sollis) behind. When she finally returns, Niamh sports a British accent and a British fiancé, Harry (Philip Lynch). Ex-boyfriend Conor has become increasingly radicalised after his father died at the hands of the Protestant British.

The writing of Never Closer is understated, and so lucid. Each of the characters have their own little quirks, flaws, and directives, and the love they feel for each other is almost tangible. In her director’s note Hannah Goodwin writes:

Early on in rehearsal we made a rule, that when the characters say ‘I love you’ they really mean it, so I take this seriously. To the cast and creatives – I’m mad about you.

This feeling of love comes through so strongly I could not stop myself from audibly sobbing at multiple points in the play. Usually in an audience I let some tears fall silently, but I ran out of breath at the intensity with which this story is brought to life and had to gasp for air. I often say that a good team makes good art, but this little adage doesn’t even begin to cover it.

The design team (Grace Deacon, Pheobe Pilcher, Alyx Dennison, Keerthi Subramanyam) have created a world filled with tiny details: Jameson hidden in the corn flakes, floral lace curtains keeping out the icy wind, songs moving from the tinny radio to large overhead speakers, cold blue light of the morning. Niamh’s costume moves from youthful 70s brown to corporate university black and navy, and immediately sets her apart from her still-brown hometown friends. Sound design in the climax of the play does exactly as much as it should.

Hannah Goodwin’s direction combined with Chapple’s writing fizzes with tension. Goodwin has a great sense of the intimate space at Belvoir’s Downstairs Theatre, placing actors in the walkway among the audience at various points, and giving different vantage points different opportunities to observe the detailed performances of the cast. She has co-directed mainstage shows before, but Never Closer really reveals the high quality of work she is capable of on her own.

Goodwin has a keen appreciation for stillness, and silence. There is a fair amount of dialogue, banter, repartee in this play, but there is also a fabulous amount of heavy quiet. The characters sit together, watch from behind doors, stare as Conor breaks down into ragged sobs. They smoke, they drink, they look down at the floor, share stolen glances and spill tea as they gesticulate. They are so alive you think they’re your friends, then at the high point of tension one of them does something unspeakable. Goodwin and Chapple let you stew in it. They do not preach, they do not educate, they simply present with absolute care.

It certainly helps that the roles are also played with precision and care, with every actor giving equally fantastic and generous performances. Sgouros as Mary stood out for me, with a wicked sense of humour and vulnerability. Labade, who recently performed in Belvoir’s Tell Me I’m Here, is given a chance to demonstrate his range and skill. Li, who appeared in Safe Home and New Gold Mountain, is so afraid to reconnect with her old friends. Lynch is hilarious, embodying the British idiot right down to his fingertips. Vocal coaching from the incredibly qualified Laura Farrell means the variety of Northern Irish accents are solid, and unique to each of the characters.

With a team as skilled (and award-nominated) as this it’s a shame that Never Closer has not been programmed on a main stage. There’s something very special about sitting in the front row of an 80-seat theatre, right up close to an experienced and talented team, but it is frustrating to also know that this kind of work is not a regular feature, even just upstairs at Belvoir. There is heartbreakingly little work available for mid-career theatre artists, but Never Closer is a shining example of what they can do when given the space and time.

We are the audiences of the future, if you think theatre isn’t for you and you want more of it like this, see it. And don’t stop there: tell your friends about it, and demand more of it.


Never Closer plays at Belvoir’s Downstairs Theatre until 16 October. Find tickets and information here.

Images by Phil Erbacher

Charlotte is the editor of Kaleidoscope Arts Journal, a little enby and a big mess. Their friends regularly worry that they might overdose on theatre.

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