Review: SMALL ISLAND, National Theatre

Rufus Norris's stage production of Small Island, by Helen Edmundson and based on the novel by Andrea Levy, was hailed as a triumph on its debut in 2019. The epic story of race, friendship and betrayal set among the Windrush generation was a welcome distraction when streamed during lockdown and now makes an exultant return to the grandeur of the Olivier's stage.

The story is of various and disparate people, who come together in a heartbreaking conclusion. Starting just before WWII, we meet Queenie, who longs to escape the provincial Lincolnshire countryside by moving to London. There she marries Bernard, an emotionally awkward man.

Meanwhile in Jamaica, orphaned Hortense falls in love with her cousin Michael, devastated when he leaves for England to enlist. As Queenie struggles after Bernard leaves to fight, she decides to take in lodgers, including Michael.

Hortense meets amiable Gilbert, who agrees to marry her so they can travel to England. Gilbert finds lodgings at Queenie's house, where he is joined by an increasingly dispirited Hortense. When Bernard finally returns, a shattering conclusion must be faced by all.

The play takes all the brutality of the immigrant experience that Levy expertly expressed in her book and brings it vividly to life. Gilbert and Hortense begin their journey full of hope and optimism, but their aspirations to be a lawyer and teacher respectively are dashed cruelly by racism and prejudice.

The cast is captivating. Mirren Mack is completely convincing as Queenie; sensible and pragmatic, Mack gives a very realistic portrayal of Queenie's vitality being gradually extinguished by her situation. She does not face racism, but has her own struggles with a lack of love, inequality and social expectations as a woman.

As Bernard, Martin Hutson demonstrates the stiffness of the character and cleverly brings a humanity to a character that is easy to despise, due to his cruel prejudices.

Leonie Elliot is stiff and starched as Hortense. The dismantling of her heartfelt admiration for Britain is painful to watch, particularly how she is so rudely awakened to the fact that her prized lighter skin counts for nothing in the face of the racism she encounters. Elliot is suitably prim, graceful and controlled.

Leemore Marrett Jr is incredibly empathetic as Gilbert; likable and simply wanting to work hard, the violent and callous attitudes he faces seem even more unfair. Marrett Jr commands both the audience's sympathy and respect for his attitude.

They are ably supported by some other excellent performances, such as Stephanie Jacob's vile neighbour Miss Todd and David Fielder's lovable Arthur.

Jon Driscoll's huge projections feel very cinematic, making full use of the size of the Olivier stage. The scale of the images of Jamaica and London fill the backdrop of the stage and make the whole production feel very immersive. Paul Anderson's lighting transports us from the warm, balmy light of the West Indies, to the cold greyness of England.

Rufus Norris' direction brings out every emotion in Levy's writing. The play is disquieting, and uncomfortable, particularly the shattering of the illusion that 'Mother England' would welcome immigrants with open arms. However, the production also has some very funny moments. This levity feels very natural and gives the production real light and shade.

At over three hours, the production's first half could be trimmed, but overall the production retains its urgency, humanity and power to shock. A vital and engrossing revival.

Small Island is at the Olivier Theatre until 30 April

Photo Credit: Johan Persson

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