Tag Archives: Marc Brenner

A SMALL AND QUIET LIGHT

★★★

Minerva Theatre

A SMALL AND QUIET LIGHT

Minerva Theatre

★★★

“Ambitious and undoubtedly well-intentioned”

Wartime heroes are often reduced to a handful of facts: names, missions, acts of courage and sometimes the date of their death. Stephanie Street’s a small and quiet light attempts to look beyond those headlines, bringing the extraordinary life of Noor-un-Nisa Inayat Khan, the first female radio operator sent undercover into occupied France by Britain’s Special Operations Executive, into intimate focus. Betrayed and captured in Paris in 1943, Noor faces interrogation and almost certain death.

The play moves between the interrogation room and memories of Noor’s childhood, young adulthood in Paris and her wartime service, gradually revealing a quiet, determined and courageous woman. Yet it only brushes the surface of a life that offers considerably more dramatic material. The dialogue is often overly explicit, while the production rarely generates the energy or passion needed to make Noor’s story feel truly urgent. For all that is at stake, there are times when it is difficult not to wonder: what is the point of it all?

At its heart, a small and quiet light should be a compelling story of courage and sacrifice, but the play remains frustratingly straightforward. Noor’s mixed Indian and American heritage is referenced, although it is unclear what significance the play intends it to have. Her father leaving the family to return to India when she was 13 and the fact that she had a fiancé before the war are also mentioned but barely explored. These details could have added greater depth to the story and it is frustrating that these glimpses are not explored further.

The decision to use an all-female cast is laudable, but its execution creates another barrier. Elin Schofield’s direction does not always provide enough clarity between the multiple roles, and we often have to wait for dialogue to establish who a character is and sometimes even whether they are male or female. Costume, physicality and vocal characterisation do not always do enough to distinguish the roles. This becomes particularly disappointing in a potentially poignant sequence towards the end, when it is not immediately clear what gender a group of people is meant to be, or even whether we have encountered them before.

A similar issue occurs in the first flashback, when Noor’s age is unclear. When the action flashes back to 1926, the same actress and costume are used and, although we understand that Noor is meant to be a child, the physical and vocal characterisation do little to establish that she is 12. It is a strange choice given that Kiah Arya is listed as Young Noor, although confusingly only appears as young Noor towards the end.

Priyanga Burford carries the production as Noor, bringing warmth and a quiet determination to a demanding role that takes her through decades of Noor’s life. Caoilfhionn Dunne is excellent as Vogt, Noor’s interrogator. Their interrogation, stretching from day one through to day 44, develops an unexpected arc of mutual respect, weariness and something approaching friendship. Dunne brings a subtle complexity to the relationship, making their increasingly personal exchanges among the production’s strongest material.

Anna Yates’ set and costume design is relatively simple. A raised platform surrounds a lower square well with a metal grid floor, which works particularly effectively as the interrogation room and prison but is adapted for other locations too. Piano stools, reflecting Noor’s love of music, create additional seating areas while concealing props. Costumes are generally appropriate to the period, although Noor’s much-talked-about blue suit for the wartime escapades is worn throughout, making that particular plot point feel rather pointless.

Ultimately, a small and quiet light is a disappointing production of a story that deserves to be more compelling. Noor-un-Nisa Inayat Khan’s life is extraordinary, but the play too often tells us why we should find it extraordinary rather than allowing us to experience that through the drama itself. Ambitious and undoubtedly well-intentioned, a small and quiet light leaves the frustrating feeling that there is a far more powerful play about Noor waiting to be made.



A SMALL AND QUIET LIGHT

Minerva Theatre

Reviewed on 27th August 2026

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Marc Brenner


 

 

 

 

A SMALL AND QUIET LIGHT

A SMALL AND QUIET LIGHT

A SMALL AND QUIET LIGHT

ATLANTIS

★★★★

Minerva Theatre

ATLANTIS

Minerva Theatre

★★★★

“Thought-provoking, moving and superbly acted”

We often encounter climate change as data: rising temperatures, shifting predictions and alarming forecasts. Emily White’s Atlantis transforms those abstract figures into a deeply human story of loss and survival. Inspired by the true story of a North Welsh coastal community forced to leave as the sea gradually encroached and investment in sea defences ceased, the play follows one family over almost three decades as they confront the slow loss of the place they love. Rather than focusing on environmental catastrophe alone, White explores its impact on relationships, asking how political conviction and activism can unite generations while also exposing deep divisions.

The story centres on grandparents Gwen (Vivien Parry) and Bryn (Richard Elfyn), whose coastal bungalow has been their family’s safe haven, a home they hoped would endure for generations. When they learn it will eventually be surrendered to the sea, the news threatens not just their future but that of their widowed daughter Claire (Catrin Aaron) and her children, Philip and Rhiannon, who share the home. As the years pass, each responds differently to an increasingly uncertain future, creating a drama in which love, grief, hope and frustration constantly compete.

The play asks uncomfortable questions without offering easy answers. Is recycling enough? Is changing individual behaviour enough? Does direct action achieve anything? White never attempts to resolve these dilemmas, instead acknowledging the helplessness many people feel in the face of such an overwhelming problem.

There are moments when the writing becomes a little too on the nose, particularly when characters voice ideas that might have been more powerful left implied. Yet these passages are balanced by generous humour and genuine warmth. White understands that families continue to laugh, fall in love and tell stories even while the world around them changes.

At the heart of the production are Vivien Parry and Richard Elfyn, whose deeply lived-in performances anchor the play. They capture the ease, affection and occasional frustrations of a couple who have shared a lifetime together, with every glance, gesture and teasing exchange suggesting decades of familiarity. Their repeated retelling of the story of how they first met becomes a touching running motif that gathers considerable emotional weight by the play’s conclusion.

The wider cast is equally strong. Catrin Aaron convincingly conveys Claire’s exhaustion and increasing reliance on alcohol as she juggles low-paid care work, motherhood and later caring for her ageing parents. Rex Bamber and Iris Dempsey bring a cheeky playfulness to the young Philip and Rhiannon, while Alfie Llewellyn captures the older Philip’s desire to escape the uncertainty of his childhood through his relationship with the more affluent Astrid (Sara Otung). Eirlys Lovell-Jones is compelling as the older Rhiannon, bringing a steely determination and emotional conviction to a character who carries forward the play’s most urgent questions about personal responsibility, activism and the choices we make in the face of an overwhelming crisis.

Guy Jones directs with confidence, allowing the intimate family scenes to carry as much weight as the broader political concerns. The shifts across nearly thirty years feel fluid, and the production resists melodrama even as the stakes steadily rise.

Frankie Bradshaw’s design, built from elements that suggest driftwood and sailcloth, evokes both the family’s weathered bungalow and the coastline itself, creating a constant reminder of the sea’s looming presence. Holly Khan’s sound design is particularly effective, creating an ever-present atmosphere of sea and weather that gradually intensifies as the environment becomes increasingly threatening.

Ultimately, Atlantis succeeds because it refuses to reduce the climate crisis to slogans, although we see plenty of those on protest placards. Instead, it examines what environmental change means for one ordinary family, while reflecting a much wider human experience. Thought-provoking, moving and superbly acted, it reminds us that the climate crisis is not just about statistics and forecasts, but about homes, histories and the people whose lives are transformed by forces beyond their control.



ATLANTIS

Minerva Theatre

Reviewed on 22nd July 2026

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 

 

 

 

ATLANTIS

ATLANTIS

ATLANTIS