Review: 'TILL THE STARS COME DOWN, Theatre Royal Haymarket

There are productions that herald huge amounts of fanfare and and others that creep up and surprise you. Beth Steel's wonderfully human play, 'Till The Stars Come Down, is the latter. A surprise hit at The National Theatre last year, this sharply comic and deeply touching family drama now makes its deserved West End transfer.

A family wedding is fertile ground for drama and Steel mines the depths of familial dynamics in all their messy glory. Based in Mansfield, an Eastern European community is increasing while the former pit town tries to adapt to its new de-industrialised environment. In this setting, former-miner's daughter Sylvia is marrying Marek, who is Polish. As the family unites for the event, we are treated to a poignant and very funny observation of a working-class family who are rooted in a hometown that is struggling to find its identity in the modern world.

Steel's characters are beautifully observed and naturally realised. They all feel like real people, with very human issues from the profound grief of a lost mother; to failing relationships; to a cat attacking Aunty Carol's wedding hat.

Women are front and centre of this narrative as they prepare for the big day and they are all distinct characters. From Sylvia's sisters; party-girl Maggie and begrudgingly responsible Hazel, to their hilariously loud aunt Carol. We open on the girls getting ready, where gossip flows along with Bucks Fizz and bubbling resentments begin to emerge.

There is stark illustration of the complexity of migration issues within the community, with not-so-thinly veiled, bigoted comments about jobs and language. In May, Reform won the council election in Steel's hometown Warsop, just next to Mansfield, making the conversation around immigration even more topical. But this is not a state-of-the-nation polemic, but more a thoughtful questioning of what happens when the working identity of a community is taken away and something unfamiliar takes its place.

Steel was inspired by her own father's story, who worked in the pits for his whole life and it is wonderful to see an authentic working-class family drama on stage that avoids bleakness; embracing warmth, wit and real life worries and prejudices. The family have mixed views on Marek, mainly based on barely-concealed resentment that he seems to be making a success of his career while the rest of the family struggles on.

Dorothy Atkinson takes over from Lorraine Ashbourne as pseudo matriarch Aunty Carol and she has a ball with the catalogue of sharp and often filthy one-liners that spill from her mouth. It's a delightful, scenery-chewing performance.

Returning as Sylvia, Sinéad Matthews brings a touching fragility to the role of the bride. Torn between her family and her new husband, Matthews' gives the quiet role real agency as the events of the day unfold.

Lucy Black also returns as Hazel, nasty and resentful of the Eastern European presence in her town while struggling with her own failing marriage. Her constant shouting conveys her unhappiness, but also begins to grate a little by the end of the production.

Aisling Loftus is wonderfully convincing as Maggie, the only sister who has ventured further than the boundaries of the village. Loftus makes a complex character both likable and sympathetic. There's also lovely work from Ruby Thompson as Hazel's stroppy older daughter Leanne and Cadence Williams (on press night) as the bubbly little sister Sarah.

The men are peripheral and therefore less well drawn. Hazel's husband Tony (a tortured Alan Williams) grows tomatoes while his wife struggles to make ends meet. Father Tony, played with quiet gravitas by Alan Williams, has a decades-long estrangement from his brother Pete, played by a lively Philip Whitchurch.

Julian Kostov is sweet as groom Marek, but also hyper-aware that he is not the most welcome person at his own wedding. Amid some of his goofiness, Steel gives Marek some incredibly thought-provoking lines, such as when he asks if his new family are going to be victims, or superior, as they cannot be both. Although he is the outsider to the family, it seems odd that he is the only Polish person on stage throughout.

The Theatre Royal Haymarket has been adapted to encorporate a stage in the round, with on stage seating making some of the audience feel like they are part of the wedding. Samal Blak's simple set of astroturf topped off by a giant glitter ball gives the prominence to the actors, who bring on most of the props themselves such as an ironing board, a large fan and a buffet table complete with sausage rolls and a cheese hedgehog.

Director Bijan Sheibani creates intimacy and huge amounts of fun; it is certainly the first time I have seen a pair of Spanx tossed into an audience. Messy and melancholy, 'Till The Stars Come Down is a beautiful and important piece of theatre.

'Till The Stars Come Down is playing at the Theatre Royal Haymarket until 27 September

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