VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

Jack Studio Theatre

★★★

“The cast does an admirable job of interpreting this unfamiliar work”

You’re probably unfamiliar with Oscar Wilde’s first play, ‘Vera; Or, The Nihilists’. Rarely performed after its 1883 premiere flopped catastrophically, I’m eager to see its first-ever London staging. This politically charged piece has revolutionary ambitions, tackling female empowerment, ideological corruption and the war on tyranny (how timely!). However, it fails to rally the troops, lacking Wilde’s signature sparkle and venturing into curious artistic terrain.

Vera Sabouroff, a young Russian peasant, is riled to revolution after a chance encounter with her brother, Dmitri, reveals he isn’t in Moscow studying law, but a Nihilist radical brutalised by the Czar’s tyrannical regime. Vera vows to avenge him, leaving with her father’s manservant, Michael, in tow. Fast forward five years and Vera is the Nihilists’ top lethal operative, tasked with assassinating the Czar. But when forbidden love sparks between Vera and her elusive comrade Alexis, duty and desire collide. Will the people win? Or will Vera betray her beliefs?

Cecilia Thoden van Velzen’s adaptation trims some of Wilde’s verbosity, allowing the epigrammatic wit he later became famous for to shine. A serious piece, there are still genuinely funny moments, such as a quip comparing diplomacy to salad making, and the Czar breaking the fourth wall to ‘smile’ at his people. Thoden van Velzen makes a smart call in introducing some commentary, with a disembodied narrator book-ending each act and reciting an epilogue which elucidates the play’s significance. Though the effect is a little spoiled by featuring said epilogue in the programme.

Another element I find curious is the decision to rewrite Wilde’s original ending. Instead of Vera being forced to choose between ideology and love, that decision is unceremoniously made by Michael, who has confessed he used to love her in the scene before. It completely changes the dynamic, erasing Vera’s willingness to die for her beliefs and suggesting a Chekhovian love triangle. Rather than letting Vera seize her progressive female agency, it’s ended by a (jealous?) man. As the first ever London staging, I question whether it’s necessary to tamper to such a degree.

Thoden van Velzen’s direction has moments of brilliance, such as loaded glances, shameless shrugs, and fourth wall breaks opening a window into the Czar’s troubled mind. However, the blocking needs work, Vera standing in profile or with her back to the audience a few too many times, and the cast getting a little lost amid the towering set pieces.

Thoden van Velzen’s sound design is spot on, with subtle effects and musical interludes perfectly complimenting the minimalist feel. The melancholy entry music, expertly timed window shot, and insistent clock chiming are all particularly effective.

Ruth Varela’s all-paper set and props build a world that feels authored and impermanent, doubling as a metaphor for power’s thin façade. However, the clumsy, clattering set changes, completed by the cast under full stage lights, breaks the believability and adds little when some structures move a mere few centimetres.

Anastasiia Glazova’s costumes evoke the period with a subtly modern flavour. Keeping Alexis in the same outfit emphasises his resolve and difference from his father.

The cast does an admirable job of interpreting this unfamiliar work. Jonathan Hansler is fantastic as both Czar and Vera’s father, revealing surprising depth and range. His initially Thénardier-esque Peter Sabouroff completely breaks when he recognises Dmitri; his Czar is terrifyingly unstable, volatile outbursts contrasting with icy coolness. George Airey’s Alexis brims with aristocratic ardour, at times petulant, others impassioned. Finn Samuels’ Michael completely transforms from tender youth to ruthless tactician, conveying much with just a look. Natasha Culzac does a decent job of Vera, though plays it a little safe, remaining more ingénue than insurgent.

You might not go wild for this production of ‘Vera; Or, The Nihilists’ but its messy history, magnetic performances and historic milestone make for a memorable experience.

VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

Jack Studio Theatre

Reviewed on 20th September 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Henry Roberts

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HAVISHAM | ★★★ | March 2025

IN THE SHADOW OF HER MAJESTY | ★★★★★ | November 2024

CAN’T WAIT TO LEAVE | ★★★½ | November 2024

MARCELLA’S MINUTE TO MIDNIGHT | ★★ | September 2024

DEPTFORD BABY | ★★★ | July 2024

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING | ★★★ | August 2022

Vera

★★★

“There are many complicated strands to the play – probably too many – which dampens the suspense.”

Edward and Henrietta Dunbar are all surface. In public – especially down at the golf club – their silky, satin finish hides a variety of cracks like the finest emulsion. But behind the smooth talk and polished speech, and behind closed doors, we see a very different story. Brad Sutherland’s new play, “Until She Sleeps”, centres on this oddly caustic couple as they navigate the minefield of mistrust and cruelty. The misgivings extend out into the audience; we are never sure whether they are playing a cruel game for others’ benefit or for their own perverse amusement. They are bound to attract comparisons to Edward Albee’s Martha and George, particularly when the less colourful pair – Peter and Nicola – are reluctantly sucked into their orbit.

Henrietta, it turns out, is battling motor neurone disease. At first, she is in the early stages and Edward has his suspicions that she might be faking it. We never really get to grips with his qualms which are swiftly brushed aside and subsequently ignored. Similarly, the subtext of euthanasia is explored briefly, touching on the legal and moral complexities, but not followed through until a passing mention later on. Blackmail and fidelity are subjects more successfully handled, which are expressed through Sutherland’s often sharp dialogue rather than exposition, yet just as we are enjoying the more emotive moments, we are led back into pragmatic issues such as tax evasion and probate.

At its heart, though, is paranoia. A sickness more destructive and toxic to the marriage than Henrietta’s progressing disability. Jonathan Hansler manifests the frustrations with an incisive portrayal of a husband who never knows if he is the culprit or the victim. It is a strong performance, levitated with shades of John Cleese on a bad day. Tonya Cornelisse, as Henrietta, vacillates between a provocative closed coolness, and her exposed anger. Her rich, sultry voice dominates the stage, making it all the more tragic when her illness robs her of the power of speech.

Rowland D. Hill and Robin Miller, as Peter and Nicola respectively, are simultaneously the foils and conscience. Less complex, their characters are more weakly written. Miller struggles sometimes with the character of a woman denied the pleasures of an affair, while her lines veer towards simplicity rather than the complexity they require. Hill has more success as he rebuffs Edward’s attempts to lure Peter into his web of subterfuge. These scenes, away from the probing ears of Henrietta (or so we think), enhance the smokescreen effect of deceit and secrecy.

Despite the odd instance of clumsy blocking, David Furlong’s direction keeps the narrative fast paced and succinct (every now and then we fast forward a year or so) yet manages to take a breath for the humour to relieve the darkness. The isolation often found in a relationship is occasionally played for laughs before being plunged back into pathos. There are many complicated strands to the play – probably too many – which dampens the suspense. And sometimes the actors appear to be struggling to keep up. Yet despite the complexities we eventually find ourselves on the straight and narrow. The brief appearance of Nurse Millie (Orsolya Nagy) is an odd and superfluous decision. The intention is maybe that she steers us towards the play’s conclusion, but it is only when Edmund and Henrietta are left alone again that we can actually reach it. Saying very little, Hansler powerfully turns his character around with a quiet, emotionally charged performance that answers more of our questions than the rest of the evening managed to.

VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

Jack Studio Theatre

★★★

“The cast does an admirable job of interpreting this unfamiliar work”

VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

Jack Studio Theatre

Reviewed on 20th September 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Henry Roberts

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Vera

Vera

Vera

UNTIL SHE SLEEPS at the White Bear Theatre

★★★

“There are many complicated strands to the play – probably too many – which dampens the suspense.”

UNTIL SHE SLEEPS at the White Bear Theatre

Reviewed on 7th November 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Paddy Gormley

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Until She Sleeps

Until She Sleeps

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