“An engrossingly human drama as a missing child causes a family to collapse“
For your child to go missing – and then stay missing – is every parent’s worst nightmare. Nick Payne’s The Unbelievers tackles this knotty issue head-on, capturing a family trying to survive in the shadow of such a gaping loss. Scenes ricochet through a non-linear timeline, and occasionally bleed into one another, capturing moments from the week of Oscar’s disappearance, its one-year anniversary, and then seven years since going missing. Excellent performances and intelligent dialogue paint a compelling portrait of a family imploding.
There’s a tragic inevitability to the way Miriam (Nicola Walker) tears the rest of her family apart with nowhere to focus her grief. It’s an exceptional performance, embodying an almost animalistic desperation and anger. Paul Higgins is just as arresting as David, Oscar’s recently separated father. He wrestles with his own emotions, while desperately trying to pull those he loves back together.
There’s an intelligence to the writing, dropping the audience into complex scenarios and trusting them to discern what matters and who the key players are. This uncertainty mirrors Miriam’s frustrations, propelling early scenes at the pace of a WhoDunnit. Nick Payne’s impeccable dialogue captures complex emotions in every line: “I’ve been thinking about his body – his body used to be my body”.
It’s brave to present such a fractured, imperfect family, but this risk pays off. The drama onstage feels all the more real, and visceral, for its messiness. Miriam’s is a very understandable breakdown, but no less tragic for its comprehensibility. At times, however, this authenticity works against the production. Ending with so many unresolved threads feels authentic, but lacks narrative satisfaction. Some of the humour is occasionally too on-the-nose, making sense for people awkwardly scrambling to break tension, but an audience can stand up to more in the safe space of the theatre. I’m not arguing for Oscar walking back through the door, but seeing how Miriam’s latest Belgian lead plays out, and how she responds, would be more satisfying.
This sense of being on the cusp of brilliance extends to set design. The action unfolds in the same blank white room, illuminated by the same PVC window at stage right. When not in a scene, characters sit suspended in a waiting room upstage, a device with a subtle but satisfying pay-off. Still, it feels as if something more visually or conceptually ambitious was within reach.
In a post-show Q&A, writer Nick Payne notes he prefers telling stories through form rather than plot. The Unbelievers exemplifies both the power and limitation of this approach. A wonderful complexity plays out onstage, with engrossing performances elevating an already-strong script. But on the train ride home, that emotional resonance lacks something concrete to latch onto.
The Unbelievers plays at the Royal Court until 29th November, with Thursday and Saturday matinees. Tickets can be purchased here.