AUTUMN at Park Theatre

★★½

“Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story”

This new adaptation brings Ali Smith’s 2016 novel, which is widely viewed as ‘the first post-Brexit novel’ to the stage.

Across two timelines we follow 13-year-old Elisabeth Demand as she befriends her whimsical elderly neighbour Daniel Gluck and the same two characters, 20 years later as Daniel lies comatose in a care facility. There are also a couple of scenes which deviate into the fantastical. A scene between Daniel and his sister, which takes place in a dream world and a scene which details the life of 1960s pop artist Pauline Boty.

Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story, which follows an unlikeable and uninteresting protagonist.

Grace Venning’s set design is playful, props are pulled from drawers and a chaise longue is propped against a backdrop of autumnal trees. There’s innovative use of plastic dust sheets, especially in an evocation of The Tempest. It’s this moment too where Ali Hunter’s lighting design comes into force. Jamie Lu’s sound is most interesting in its subtle hum of the care facility.

There are some glittering moments. Daniel and his sister, who charmingly calls him her summer brother, dance around each other while she’s dressed in a suit of armour. Gary Lilburn as Daniel is joy encapsulated. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he embodies the aging bohemian, making it achingly clear that this story should follow him, by far the most interesting character. This scene particularly sparkles, in part because of clever movement direction from Vickers, but also because of the stunning performance from Nancy Crane. She multi roles throughout the show, some highlights being the smug bureaucratic Post Office worker, the knowing Eastern European cleaner and the New York psychotherapist. She gives each of these women a depth and realism and brings an effortless wit. For much of the show she watches on from the side-lines, a peculiar directorial choice, but her reactions are scene stealing. Lilburn and Crane’s playfulness and joy in this scene is a delightful respite from the gloom that hangs over much of the play.

Both Rebecca Banatvala and Sophie Ward are also strong, as mother and daughter, it’s just that their characters are hard to pinpoint. Elisabeth is utterly joyless, with a single-minded focus on Gluck, which is never fully untangled. Her mother is under explored, and her state of the nation monologues feel tired, nearly a decade on. While ostensibly a political commentary, nothing new or fresh is discussed. Characters bemoan their tiredness with the system, the liars, the current situation. There are comments on racist graffiti and the migrant crisis but it feels tangential to the main narrative. This play doesn’t fully decide what it is, whether it’s a family drama or a state of the nation lament. And it’s not clear what, in 2024, it is adding to the conversation about Brexit, which is relevant or interesting to today.