A story of light, dark, and the spaces in-between''
Content warning: SUNNY SIDE explores sensitive and potentially distressing topics related to mental health, loneliness and societal pressures faced by young people.
I grew up in a small northern town—now known to the world as the real Happy Valley. It’s a place of two sides: a creative, hippy-dippy haven filled with wacky parades and free hugs, yet also a town weighed down by thick clouds, hidden struggles, and an undercurrent of mental health crises.
Geographically unusual, the landscape holds weight. The wild moorlands are split by a narrow valley. It’s undeniably beautiful, a part of God’s own county, but down on the valley floor, where most of the community resides, there is no horizon in sight. The geography tells a story.
It’s a town of two sides. Depending on where you live, there are those who reside in the shaded side of the valley, and there are those that live on the Sunny Side. This simple contrast became a powerful metaphor that formed the basis of the show and became rooted in a fictional narrative of a local young lad’s struggle with his mental health.
The town and suicide
We were yellow-bellies when it first became apparent. A term given to the youngest kids on the lowest rung of the hierarchy of our chaotic and beloved local comp. We were barely adolescents, trying to bear and understand the weight of something unknown.
Looking back, I struggle to unpick the memory, perhaps because we were protected by youth, but we still couldn’t fully grasp the situation even when it happened again when we were 17, 18, 19 years old.
Turning 21, our coming of age was delivered with a hit closer to home. Our phones delivered the message, each device a portal to a grief unended. The hotel room where we sat and received the news became an island, our circle of best friends holding on; each one a life raft to the other.
There seemed to begin a horror-story chain reaction of losing another and another and another local lad. We weren’t sure if it was bad luck, a contagion, or because we were more aware, that the deaths became more apparent. Our twinkly tourist town was facing an epidemic of losing local men, young and old, to suicide. Our Facebook threads became community noticeboards where names from each generation would post their heartache and share their collective grief.
Yes, we collectively grieved, but we also questioned—why is this happening? How can we prevent it? And importantly, why aren’t we openly talking about it? SUNNY SIDE became our way of searching for answers.
The idea for SUNNY SIDE came from something that was both deeply personal and heartbreakingly universal.
Despite years of progress, conversations around men’s mental health still carry weighty silence. Fear plays a huge role—fear of saying the wrong thing, of appearing weak, of letting people down. But beyond that, there’s a deeper issue: many simply don’t have the language to express what they’re going through.
We spoke with over 1500 young people across the UK while developing SUNNY SIDE, including a drop on session in our local village. One man, when asked about his mental health, simply said, “Sometimes it’s easier to not have the conversation.” That moment hasn’t left us.
Boys are often taught to be strong, to suppress vulnerability. As they grow, they lose access to things we readily give to girls—gentle platonic touch, the freedom to cry without judgment, the ability to be held and comforted. Masculinity, as it’s traditionally constructed, keeps men at arm’s length from themselves and each other. SUNNY SIDE begs us to push against that.
During our preview shows, something happened that we didn’t expect. When the house lights came up, audiences weren’t just applauding—they were holding each other. Checking in. Sitting in silence together.
That’s the power of this work. It isn’t just about storytelling—it’s about creating space for people to feel, reflect, and, hopefully, take action. We’ve seen first-hand how art can open doors to conversations that otherwise stay shut. Our partnership with Andy’s Man Club is part of that mission: to make sure no one feels they have to struggle alone.
As SUNNY SIDE embarks on its tour, we hope to build more than just an audience. We want to start a movement—one where softness, vulnerability, and compassion aren’t seen as weaknesses, but as the foundations of a better future.
So, why come see SUNNY SIDE? Because stories like our local ordinary boys deserve to be heard. Because we all know someone who might be struggling. And because, sometimes, the hardest conversations start in the dark—but they always reach for the light.
SUNNY SIDE is at The Place on 8 April
Production Photo Credits: Elly Welford
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