A slow-burning drama, held up by its stunning visuals
If ever there was a way to capture an audience at the start of a show, Further than the Furthest Thing accomplishes this. A hauntingly euphoric opening enraptures us in the play’s remote setting, and a visual spectacle of projection, lights and sound transports us to an imaginary island. It sets a hopeful tone for what is to come, though only emphasises the disappointment felt when proceeded by plodding-pacing and slow-burning drama.
We’re introduced to Bill and Mill (played by Cyril Nri and Jenna Russell), two naive islanders isolated from the outside world. With quirky colloquialisms and an overbearing sense of vulnerability, these islanders have carved a life away from modernity. Yet the introduction of modernism, or rather the intrusion of it, is what sets the play in motion.
With the return of their young-fiery nephew from the outside world, Francis (played by Archie Madekwe), bursts back onto the island brimming with ideas on modernisation. It’s the trope of youth trying to escape provincial life, convincing those stuck in time to turn towards a more contemporary way of living. Accompanying him, Francis brings (yet another trope), a charmingly sleazy businessman, Mr Hansen (Gerald Kyd) proposing to colonise the land and build factories. It’s sold as a golden-ticket dream, though with the vulnerability of the natives, a suspicious atmosphere hangs in the air.
With such a seemingly interesting and straightforward plot, it’s a shame that the to and fro of the islander’s concern fills the bulk of the first act. The suspicious tension mustered by our surface-level capitalist crook begins to feel washed away by lengthy, repetitive scenes. What we’re left with is a first act that trickles steadily along, where the drama unfolds little more than the disruption caused by a modern presence on the island.
A craved turning point comes when Francis impulsively changes his mind on the modernisation of the island. Tension boils between Mr Hansen and the natives and suddenly we’re thrust into a forced evacuation where Hanson breaks news of a volcanic eruption set to destroy the land. It strikes another suspicious moment, leaving the audience questioning the truth of the situation or whether this new ominous danger is a cleverly crafted ploy to get the locals away.
The volcanic news rumbles a new energy that carries us through to a stronger second act. We see the islanders evacuated to England, all trying to settle down in a new way of life. Though even with the news of the volcanic threat, little erupts on the Young Vic stage. Much like its predecessor, scenes hang with dribs and drabs of dialogue as we’re greeted again by meandering scenes.
The sweet release came in transitional moments. Much like the play’s opening, the stage would explode with projection sequences and enrapturing soundscapes, texturing the space with stunning, striking visuals that reinvigorated the dampened drama that follows. It’s safe to say that Further than the Furthest Thing isn’t too far away from being a ‘good’ play, but as it stands, (Just like the island) perhaps it was better off left untouched.

