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

★★★★

“a wonderful adaptation of the Wilde Classic in a uniquely atmospheric setting”

The wit of the famed Irish playwright sparkled in the evening sun in this outdoor production by Progress Theatre. In the shadow of the gaol in which he was incarcerated for ‘the love that dare not speak its name’ well known Wildean epigrams bounce off the walls of the former Reading Abbey’s chapter house. We all know and relish Lady Bracknell’s (Caroline Warner) pronouncement on the ‘carelessness of the loss of two parents’, her astonishment at the receptacle in which the infant Jack Worthing (Chris Westgate) was found or the ‘immateriality of the line’ on which he was found and her daughter Gwendolen Fairfax’s (Stephanie Ness) declaration of the ‘sensational reading to be found in one’s own diary providing entertainment on a train journey’. However, the cast and director (Steph Dewar) highlighted many others including ‘The truth is rarely plain and never simple’, ‘All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his’ and ‘The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.’

The simplistic but effective setting covering the three acts in the town house of Algernon Moncrieff and Jack’s Hertfordshire estate works well within the historic setting; despite my initial misgivings that this ‘drawing-room comedy’ might be lost in the expanse of the outdoor venue. Costumes (Wendy Hobson and Chris Moran) and the required minimum of furniture and props provide the period elegance to anchor the production in its mid-1890s setting. The skilful interval split, mid Act II, works well to keep the pace racing along towards the conclusion.

Hindered in his attempts to keep his two worlds from colliding by the intervention of his friend Algernon, played with bubbling mischievousness by Matthew Urwin, Jack finally resorts to ‘killing off’ his fictional miscreant brother Earnest, who by continually misbehaving ‘in town’, provides Jack the perfect excuse whenever he needs to escape from the country. Algernon, who also has a fictional reason for leaving town to visit the country, in turn becomes enamoured with Jack’s young ward, Cecily Cardew (Nancy Gittus). Prepared to sacrifice their double lives for the love of Gwendolen and Cecily both men stride haphazardly forward to discover the importance of being ‘Earnest’.

Between the two young women a bond of ‘sisterhood’ is quickly reached and equally quickly ripped asunder on their first meeting. Only to be restored on finding themselves both to have been misled by their suitors. The speedy change is achieved with excellent precision and hilarity from Ness and Gittus. Ness is easily recognisable as the daughter of Warner’s Lady Bracknell both in mannerisms and speech. She deftly uses the dialogue to create a believable character of a young woman of society used to getting her own way. Whilst Warner’s approach to the notorious ‘handbag’ line of Lady Bracknell is to expertly underplay it with effective emphasis of shock and outrage at the presumption of Jack expecting her daughter to ‘marry into a cloakroom and forge an alliance with a parcel’.

In juxtaposition to the slightly smug and sarcastic Moncrieff and increasingly vexed and frustrated Worthing, the Rector of the Hertfordshire estate, Dr. Chasuble (Paul Gittus) and Cecily’s tutor, Miss Prism (Liz Paulo), provide a simmering, sublimated sexual tension to great comic effect. They, along with Algernon’s manservant, Lane (Dean Stephenson) and Jack’s butler, Merriman (John Goodman) who both portray with few words and a good many telling facial expressions the knowing yet rather put upon non-leisured-class, provide excellent comedic cameos in counterpoint to their erring employers.

Progress Theatre have produced a wonderful adaptation of the Wilde Classic in a uniquely atmospheric setting.

Tag Archives: Oscar Wilde

VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

★★★

Jack Studio Theatre

VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

Jack Studio Theatre

★★★

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