★★★★

“a gentle and delicate slow burner”

Clarkston is a small city in Washington State in the far northwest of the United States, named after William Clark of the famous Lewis and Clark Expedition. Over two centuries ago, the intrepid couple set out on a journey to explore the vast, uncharted lands of the American West. Land that was acquired through the ‘Louisiana Purchase’ (the impact on Native Americans is another matter – for another article, at another time). It was a two-and-a-half-year journey that ended with them setting up camp at what is now Clarkston (not Lewiston?). Two hundred years later, where the rivers meet on the Idaho border, a Costco warehouse store now stands in pride of place.

That much is fact. Fiction now takes over in the form of Samuel D. Hunter’s new play set predominantly in that Costco. Jake (Joe Locke) has made the trek from Connecticut only to wind up as a night shift worker stacking shelves, and is taken under the wing of fellow worker, Chris (Ruaridh Mollica), a local lad. They are essentially chalk and cheese but quickly form a strong, and often tender, bond. Jake comes from an affluent family, educated but complicated, while Chris is stuck in the backwaters trying to save up to go to college. What informs the narrative are the shadows that hang over them: Jake’s in the shape of his progressive Huntington’s disease (he reckons he has eight years left to live at tops), while Chris is eclipsed by the presence of his drug-addict mother, Trisha (Sophie Melville).

Hunter’s writing is solid yet nuanced, achieving a delicate balance of humour and introspection, with complete authenticity. There’s a hopelessness that is somewhat bleak, but the performances keep us engaged throughout and we cannot help but care for these two lost souls. Locke shows real strength as a somewhat weak and ambiguous character, full of contradictions. He claims he has been dumped by his boyfriend, but the relationship was never consummated. His sophistication is a shroud, while Chris is more honest about his inexperience. Mollica’s portrayal is a masterclass in subtlety and understatement, gently revealing a tortured personality. Likewise, the play is a gentle and delicate slow burner, intermittently rippled by Melville’s self-destructive anguish as Trisha. She seems to accept, but cannot fully understand, her son’s sexuality, but Melville gives an utterly convincing show of maternal love that is blurred by the grip of dependency – a dependency not just on her drugs but on Chris too. She occasionally becomes the child, sheepishly downplaying her relapse.

Yet at its centre is the relationship between Jake and Chris. For the most part, this play has the feel of a two-hander. Director, Jack Serio, keeps the naturalism in sharp focus, almost ensuring us that we are witnessing real life (Jake claims to be a direct descendant of the American explorer, William Clark, and we believe it). Milla Clarke’s storehouse set reinforces the realism, and when needed, Stacey Derosier’s evocative lighting transports us to a new dawn on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. We are left with feelings of hope that hint at an escape form the gloom.

“Clarkston” is fairly low on drama, but it is steeped in atmosphere. Moving and vulnerable, it languidly coaxes its themes out of the closet and into our hearts. Not necessarily life-changing but definitely life-affirming. On the surface somewhat ordinary but ultimately shaped into something quite extraordinary.

APEX PREDATOR

Hampstead Theatre

★★

“the entire cast do as much as they can with the raw tools they’ve been given”

Has the time arrived for a new vampire story? John Donnelly thinks so. But unfortunately, his newest play, Apex Predator, can’t quite seem to decide what it wants to be — a commentary on postpartum depression and psychosis, or a horror-comedy about vampirism as an allegory for modern life. In trying to straddle the line between both worlds, it never really succeeds at either.

From the opening moment, we are reminded that London is a city of violence. Not only that, but no one in this city is going to help you, not really. If you expect to survive, you’re going to have to be strong. But Mia (Sophie Melville) is hardly feeling strong at the moment — her newborn, Isla, won’t feed. Her son, Alfie (Callum Knowelden), is being bullied at school. And on top of it all, her husband Joe (Bryan Dick) is sometimes away for days at his secretive job. When he does come home, they mostly bicker. Mia is exhausted. The neighbours are a nuisance, throwing parties with loud music, forcing Mia to bounce Isla to sleep night after night, and Joe seems… well, entirely unbothered by this. If anything, he appears agitated that his wife is having a tough time. Enter Alfie’s new art teacher, Ana (Laura Whitmore), who may just be able to offer Mia a way forward. The premise is interesting, if a bit old hat. How do we protect ourselves, but especially our children, in a world that grows more dangerous by the day? It’s unfortunate that each idea in the script feels under-developed, spawning into some new thread, while we ache for the previous thread to be tied.

Blanche McIntyre’s direction is confusing at times. Moments that feel like they deserve a bit more room to breathe are quite rushed, namely Mia and Ana’s very first meeting. Mia has rushed to Alfie’s school, to assert her son’s right to defend himself — he’s bitten another child, which feels like a bit of a flat pun, given the subject matter — and Ana switches from critical school bureaucrat to close confidante in ten seconds or less. Some dialogue is played for uncomfortable laughs, when the topic at hand feels anything but funny. In one specific moment, Mia runs round and round in circles, trying to find an escape, when there’s a relatively obvious one in front of her — a door that someone else has walked in through, just moments before. Whether this is down to McIntyre or the production’s Movement Director, Ingrid Mackinnon, is difficult to say.

But there are bright spots here. Whitmore is excellent as Ana, despite her character’s somewhat unconvincing arc. Melville is fascinating to watch as she swings between clarity and madness. Truthfully, the entire cast do as much as they can with the raw tools they’ve been given. The lighting and sound design (Jack Knowles and Chris Shutt, respectively) work together quite synergistically, particularly in a very short scene during the second act that evokes a moment from a slick on-screen horror. It’s just a shame that the story as written doesn’t allow for more of these gorgeous vignettes. The set design (Tom Piper) is excellent making great use of a relatively small space, surrounded by imposing scaffolding. The claustrophobia, the grit of a city like London is keenly felt.

All in all, the potential is there. One simply wishes that Donnelly had — forgive me — sunk his teeth in a bit deeper.

CLARKSTON

Trafalgar Theatre

★★★★

“a gentle and delicate slow burner”

CLARKSTON

Trafalgar Theatre

Reviewed on 25th September 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

CLARKSTON

CLARKSTON

CLARKSTON

APEX PREDATOR

Hampstead Theatre

★★

“the entire cast do as much as they can with the raw tools they’ve been given”

APEX PREDATOR

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 31st March 2025

by Stacey Cullen

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

Previously reviewed at this venue:

APEX PREDATOR

APEX PREDATOR

APEX PREDATOR

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