★★★

“struggles to know itself: its heavy in content, but its comedy is competitive, rather than complementary”

‘(This is not a) Happy Room’ is rammed with content, much of which is very funny. For all that content, though, it lacks substance.

Let us start with the good. Written by Rosie Day, and directed by Hannah Price, the concept for the piece is promising: a wedding which quickly devolves into a funeral. It’s an intriguing set up, allowing for some Aristotelian compliance: all the action takes place in the wedding-cum-funeral venue, and all in the space of about 24 hours. Yet, the tragicomic offerings of this narrative are misused, and it struggled to emotionally engage.

Much of the dialogue does amuse, especially in conjunction with Jonny Weldon’s physical eccentricities and excellent timing as attention-starved hypochondriac Simon. Amanda Abbington, too, is classy and cutting as matriarch Esther, expertly combatting her adult-children’s whines and self-indulgent pathologies (though I’m not sure she was meant to be the most sympathetic figure – more on this later). Alison Liney as dementia-ridden Great Aunt Agatha and Tom Kanji as Laura’s (Andrea Valls) husband Charles, also regale with some excellent comedy moments.

A pressing concern with this play, however, is in its characters: ‘(This is not a) Happy Room’ is an unrelenting piece of naturalistic theatre, which becomes rather monotonous in this pursuit. Without an interlude to chop up this type of drama – please, dear god, bring back the Interval – this style of dialogue loses pace and organisation. What’s more, naturalistic dialogue of this ilk screams out for nuance in its characters. To sustain itself, naturalism must present fascinating, idiosyncratic and nuanced people at its centre. Most of the characters in this piece veered in and out of cliche. This was particularly apparent in the women, especially the daughters, Laura and Elle. They typified the trend that is becoming alarmingly common: a kind of fetishised narcissist. Both women were vapid and nasty, with Elle parading ignorance and idiocy with proud ostentation. It’s not cute, and I fear does little for feminism.

The figure of real sympathy is Abbington’s Esther, beleaguered and criticised incessantly by her children, she’s painted as the therapy-denying, stern British mother, who believes most mental illness is just a natural response to the drudgeries of life. But as a mother and maternal figure, she is seemingly vilified. Indeed, some compelling questions are raised regarding motherhood and the ‘selflessness’ narrative of motherhood, but the ways in which these were navigated felt incomplete.

As the play develops, it gets littered with traumas, few of which are divulged in a way which forwards the conversation. Without more specific family detail, it’s hard not to see the Hendersons as symptomatic of many a repressed British household, rather than one of spectacular dysfunction. This show struggles to know itself: its heavy in content, but its comedy is competitive, rather than complementary. ‘(This is not a) Happy Room’ is certainly very watchable, and it will make you laugh, but as a drama, it flounders somewhat.

WHEN IT HAPPENS TO YOU at Park Theatre

★★★★★

“sensitively scripted and staged”

When novelist Tawni O’Dell’s daughter was raped, her first instinct was not to write about it. Only through a one-off session with a psychiatrist was the seed planted that perhaps, after a career of writing fiction, writing something based on her own experience might help to process the event. The result is When It Happens to You, a play that details a family’s experience dealing with trauma, not as a family drama, but more as an extended monologue. Each perspective is told first hand, with only rare moments played out in representative scenes for the audience, the transition between introspection and dramatisation indicated by subtle lighting cues against a simple representation of the New York City skyline (Sherry Coenen).

The play uses the rape – as the title suggests – as something that happened. Amanda Abbington plays Tara, representing Tawni O’Dell who played herself in the original Off-Broadway staging. Abbington talks about it as an event that happened in the past, matter of factly, in the past tense. This is exemplified early on with a repeated refrain to set the scene: “the night my daughter was raped…”. The drama of the piece unfolds in the aftermath, showing how, in the words of Tara, the event metastasizes to become the most significant event in her daughter Esme’s life, despite her protestations. As a result, the event permanently alters the mind and relationships of Esme, her mother and brother, Connor.

Despite the grim subject matter the piece doesn’t feel too heavy or overplayed. If anything, moments of cognitive dissonance between how Tara thinks and how she acts create humour, easing the audience in with the juxtaposition of a horrifying 3am phone call and the mundanity of looking for a missing cat. Later, in her one visit to a ‘shrink’ he incisively points out that she uses humour to hide her pain.

Performances are strong all round. Whilst the piece is primarily told to the audience from Tara’s perspective, Director Jez Bond keeps the cast on stage throughout, reacting in character to Tara, with each of her children having a moment to address the audience directly.

When people talk about Esme (Rosie Day), they express worry, frustration and pain. But when Day addresses the audience, she expresses hope found in the colour yellow. Miles Molan as ‘the little prince’ and scientific genius Connor doesn’t skirt around the issue in his monologue, with a frankly rational yet incisive observation that it’s not just the wound of the attack that plagues Esme, but the additional fear of becoming a social pariah when people find out what happened to her. Tok Stephen’s impact belies his rather limited stage time, playing all other male roles with finesse, adeptly switching between a hardened New York detective, a Tony-winning love interest of Tara, and a $300-per-hour psychiatrist.

Slight inconsistencies in plot and performance can be excused given the powerful nature of the piece with its intimate portrayal of a family in crisis. Whilst the narrative is strong for its specificity, it equally finds strength in being a statistically widespread experience. 1 in 4 women have experienced rape or sexual assault. A staggering statistic, confirmed by Rape Crisis England & Wales, that makes this sensitively scripted and staged piece one to watch.

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

King’s Head Theatre

★★★

“struggles to know itself: its heavy in content, but its comedy is competitive, rather than complementary”

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed on 31st March 2025

by Violet Howson

Photography by Mark Senior

Previously reviewed at this venue:

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM

WHEN IT HAPPENS TO YOU at Park Theatre

★★★★★

“sensitively scripted and staged”

WHEN IT HAPPENS TO YOU at Park Theatre

Reviewed on 6th August 2024

by Amber Woodward

Photography by Mark Douet

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WHEN IT HAPPENS

WHEN IT HAPPENS