Review: Small Island at National Theatre

                                                                                                                                                                        © Brinkhoff-Moegenburg

In the aftermath of the Windrush scandal Helen Edmundson’s stage adaptation of Small Island, the award-winning book by the late Andrea Levy, was eagerly anticipated by a reinvigorated National Theatre audience. Although there are several flashbacks, the play focuses largely on Britain mid-WWII through to 1948 with Jon Driscoll’s impressive cinematic projections, which dominated the Olivier stage, providing an informative contextual backdrop.

Through the eyes of white northerner Queenie and Jamaican immigrants Hortense and Gilbert, Edmundson skilfully condenses the long novel to describe the difficulties of navigating life within a declining British Empire. The three protagonists in their quest to succeed collide in a slightly contrived but fortuitous way, all stylishly directed by Rufus Norris.

Blessed with ‘golden’ skin and a firmly stuck-up middle-class nose, Hortense (Leah Harvey) is an ambitious young teaching assistant from Savannah La Mar. She is formally educated, elegant and dignified but also idealistic, proud and at times downright harsh—Harvey presents her many facets gloriously in an exquisitely restrained performance. Hortense believes she’ll elope with childhood playmate Michael (CJ Beckford) but a devastating literal and figurative hurricane causes her to settle for affable former RAF member Gilbert, played mightily by Gershwyn Eustache Jnr.

Likewise wholehearted Queenie, delivered with warmth and credibility by Aisling Loftus, is a farmer's daughter from Lincolnshire who craves deliverance from her dreary existence. After moving to London she is hampered by emotionally repressed persistent suitor Bernard Bligh (Andrew Rothney) and reluctantly Queenie (now Queenie Bligh) is tasked with the role of landlady at the Blighs' Earl's Court home, to ensure its upkeep following the war.

Despite third cog Gilbert's disappointing experience of degradation and racism during his initial RAF stint in England, his eternal optimism sways him to return to the Mother Country via SS Empire Windrush in 1948, coaxed by new wife Hortense. Queenie offers Gilbert and Hortense far from desirable one-room lodgings, and as the blatant racial prejudice intensifies against the first-wave couple, the three become eternally connected during a less evenly-paced second half.

Designer Katrina Lindsay’s wonderfully evocative forties tailored costumes and sparingly decorative staging—from the art deco cinema seats to Aunt Dorothy’s detailed London sweet shop—give an authentic flavour of the period. Similarly Paul Anderson’s atmospheric lighting, especially during the Jamaican hurricane scene, was spectacularly mesmerising. The outstanding 40-strong cast are too many to name, but Johann Myers' charismatic cameo as politically savvy sweet boy Elwood was perfection and Beatie Edney’s Aunt Dorothy was simply joyous.

By contrast to Queenie's clear motivation, Hortense and Gilbert's complex reasons for relocating felt constrained by the play even at a lengthy three hours, and occasionally the action felt too melodramatic. The imperialist/colonialist brainwashing was also perhaps a tad overcooked. For example, the nonsensical line from well-educated enlightened Michael to Queenie, ‘Your palms are blacker than mine!’, seemed incongruous and may have benefited from tweaking.

That said this epic, well-resourced, polished production exposes the shocking gulf between the views of scaremongering insular indigenous whites and the hopeful black immigrants who believed, naively, that they'd be automatically welcomed as British citizens—an astutely observed representation of this mismatch is Queenie’s excruciating inability to understand Hortense’s RP. Importantly, the play celebrates the significant contribution Jamaicans made in upholding Britain’s infrastructure during WWII and beyond, and for that alone it’s worth a viewing. 

Cocoa’s verdict:  It’s an aesthetically pleasing, well-staged and highly entertaining production, just make sure you eat beforehand!

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Small Island is on at the National Theatre’s Olivier Theatre from 1 May–10 August 2019

Running time: 3hrs 10mins (incl interval)