MEMORIAM

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“intriguing and thought provoking”

Noga Flaishon’s “Memoriam” is being sold as a science fiction. In fact, Flaishon herself goes one step further by calling it a “Jewish science fiction… now, there’s a genre you don’t see every day!”. She is half right. Her somewhat bleak but frequently humorous one-act play explores a deep part of Jewish culture, but its context is closer to science fact than fiction. Set in the near future, the themes and morals it throws up are decidedly current.

The tech company ‘Memoriam’ is able to extract human memories, digitalise them and sell them on as virtual reality experiences to subscribers who pay quite a large premium. The original intention may have been honourable, but commercialism and commodification has crept in. Those who provide their own memories sign away their rights, allowing the company to edit and sanitise them for the mass market. A bit like an author selling the film rights to a personal memoir, only to be horrified at the resulting schmaltzy blockbuster that butchers their private sense of identity and history. This dilemma is magnified when the subject covers global atrocities and genocide. The timing of this play is quite pertinent, at a disturbing time when history and living memory are becoming increasingly distorted (depending on what statistics you believe, apparently 60% of young people today cannot differentiate between fact and misinformation.)

Company employee Rachel (Rachel Barry) is under pressure to meet targets. Having secured the memories of Becky’s (Jimena Larraguivel) troubled pregnancy and labour, she is encouraged by her boss Chris (Ben Wiggins) to turn her attention to her grandmother, Rivka (Beverley Klein): the last living survivor of the Holocaust. Her brother David (Ashley Margolis) is, for dramatic purposes, vehemently against the idea, ostensibly to fuel the domestic conflicts that are inherent and central to the narrative.

Played in the round we reap the advantages and disadvantages of this choice. Ellie Wintour’s stark set gives the feel that we are looking through a cracked shell into these characters’ lives. Along with Jonathan Chan’s clinical lighting and Sarah Spencer’s cyber-infused sound design and music, we could well imagine that we are witnessing some sort of virtual reality itself. But, unable to address all of the people all of the time, many lines are lost as backs are turned and arguments spiral. An opening monologue is particularly indecipherable.

Once we are in the thick of it, we are given much food for thought. Barry’s Rachel is initially nervy and a bit geeky until her cooler pragmatic side shines through. She doesn’t question her own morals so much as to shy away from approaching the formidable figure of Rivka with the proposition. Klein’s performance of Rivka holds the piece together with a genuine and touching portrayal of the matriarch; stern and principled, yet loving and still haunted by the atrocities she has witnessed. She also comes equipped with some of the best lines.

The issues are dealt with smartly and quite astutely, even if the writing never probes too deeply. Should Rivka’s memories of the Holocaust be used for commercial gain? And, more importantly, should the company be allowed to manipulate them to make them more viewer friendly? Rivka will only consider the deal with the stipulation that they “leave them ugly”. Daniel Goldman’s direction skilfully weaves the polemic into a warm-hearted family saga, but ultimately both are a little compromised. The real impact comes when the technology is set aside and Rivka opens up to Rachel face to face. The virtual reality experience induces what Flaishon describes as “pain shock” (clumsily reenacted on the stage with dubious physicality); but a good old tête-a-tête creates the warmth, pathos, understanding and connection that is in danger of being lost forever.

“Memoriam” is intriguing and thought provoking; the satire not always hitting home, but a chilling insight into what could feasibly be just around the corner. That it is softened by placing it in a domestic setting is part of its charm. The other part is Klein’s performance, which harks back to the fine art of storytelling. There is no ‘virtual’ about the reality of that.

MEMORIAM

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 26th October 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Charlie Flint

MEMORIAM

★★★★

“a stunning exploration of narrative infidelity, space, and the way in which stories shape our view of the world, and of ourselves”

If a baby’s crying in the room next door, how can you sit down and write? When children’s toys litter the ground, and the only desk is taken by your husband, how can you find space to be creative? If fiction resembles life too closely, how can you be sure what’s real and what’s not? Ellen McDougall’s new play, at the theatre she artistic directs, is a stunning exploration of narrative infidelity, space, and the way in which stories shape our view of the world, and of ourselves.

Adapted from Valeria Luiselli’s 2011 novel, published in an English translation by Christina McSweeney in 2014, three interweaving narratives form a vibrant tapestry on stage. The Woman, played with vigour and conviction by Jimena Larraguivel, attempts to tell her audience a story. A nagging child (played alternatively by Juan-Leonardo Solari and Santiago Huertas Ruiz) interrupts with comments and questions. A baby’s cries force her away, leaving little notes for her husband to read out at her command. Upsetting the flow of her tale, these moments of male pressure remind of the ease at which women’s creative potential can be disturbed. One long table dominates the stage. At first, The Husband (Neil D’Souza) sits here to work. It’s only after The Woman befriends a neighbour, The Musician (Anoushka Lucas) that she finds a table, and space, of her own to write. Working as a translator in Mexico City, she discovers a book of letters by Mexican poet Gilberto Owen that so reflect her situation she feels compelled to get them published. As her attempts hit various stumbling blocks, Owen comes to haunt her present, causing her grip on what’s real and what’s not to slowly dissolve.

Larraguivel is a dominating force in this production. Holding the audience in her grip throughout, this is her story to tell. Direct address keeps us hooked, and intriguing moments of introduction – “This is what I looked like smoking a cigarette” – underscore how narration and presentation are two very different beasts. Unafraid to be messy, Bethany Wells’ design brings in the bright colours that invoked Mexico for English people like me. George Dennis’ sound design set an immediate sense of time and place in brief moments, and the songs provided by Lucas throughout are simply gorgeous.

McDougall’s collage-like adaptation interlaces the narratives neatly. The theatre’s programme and posters credit the original author and translator prominently, fitting in a play where translation becomes a key aspect. In fact, the whole market of Latin American translation is almost mocked. What is it that English-speaking audiences seek from these texts? What do we expect? As The Woman asks, who is made invisible when we experience these stories?

If Faces in the Crowd has a flaw, it feels a little too long, the text not always gripping when it should, and at times the narrative strand a little unclear. But perhaps that’s the point. Like the house in which The Woman writes, telling stories can get messy. Find your space, and fight for it.

Reviewed by Robert Frisch

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

Tag Archives: Jimena Larraguivel

MEMORIAM

★★★

Southwark Playhouse Borough

MEMORIAM

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“intriguing and thought provoking”