A showcase for two finely tuned performances and a thoughtful exploration of sisterhood under strain
In the intimate upstairs room of the Jack Studio Theatre in Brockley, What I’d Be sets itself a deceptively simple task. Written by Tanieth Kerr and directed by Katy Livsey, the two-hander follows estranged sisters Makayla and Ally as they meet on a park bench after their mother’s funeral. Over the course of a tightly contained hour, the play asks whether shared history is enough to repair a fractured bond.
The Jack Studio, perched above the Brockley Jack pub, is not a space that tolerates half measures. The stage is compact, the audience close enough to catch the smallest flicker of doubt. It is here that the production finds its greatest strength. Both actors are utterly present, inhabiting the space with a concentration that never slips. In such proximity, any false note would clang. Instead, their performances feel precise and lived-in.
The constriction of the stage sharpens the drama. The actors use that to their advantage. Their exchanges crackle not because the dialogue is showy, but because the listening is active. Each line appears to land and register before the next is fired back. The sense of shared history is palpable, not just in what is said but in how quickly the temperature changes.
The play tackles raw material: grief, estrangement, and the long shadow cast by a formative rupture in the sisters’ past. There is a temptation in such narratives to overstate, to heighten every confrontation into a crescendo. Instead, the production opts for restraint. The tone is tender without becoming sentimental. Even at its most painful, the writing maintains a degree of composure, allowing the actors to carry the emotional weight rather than forcing it.
The sisters’ dynamic is sharply observed. Their humour is edged, their affection reluctant. They slip easily into old patterns of provocation and defensiveness. What makes it compelling is that neither woman is positioned as entirely right or wrong. The play understands that estrangement rarely rests on a single grievance; it accumulates, layer by layer, until the distance feels irreversible. Watching them attempt to unpick that accumulation is the evening’s quiet triumph.
Where the production falters slightly is in its structure. The most significant twist, the revelation that reframes much of their history, takes place offstage and is relayed through dialogue. As a result, the play leans heavily on exposition. Characters recount events, clarify misunderstandings and piece together timelines. While this deepens our understanding, it also slows the momentum. The audience is told about the rupture rather than experiencing its shock alongside the characters.
That decision limits the dramatic impact of what should be the play’s most seismic moment. Because we encounter it second-hand, its emotional reverberations feel somewhat contained. The script gestures towards the enormity of the event but stops short of fully interrogating it in the present tense. There is a sense that the material could withstand greater risk, that a more sustained confrontation might have unearthed further complexity.
And yet, even in its more explanatory passages, the production retains its grip thanks to the actors’ discipline. They find subtext in lines that might otherwise feel functional. A simple correction of a memory carries accusation; a moment of hesitation suggests doubt about one’s own narrative. In this way, the play becomes less about the factual details of the twist and more about the competing stories we tell ourselves to survive.
Importantly, What I’d Be resists tidy resolution. The sisters do not arrive at catharsis in the conventional sense. Their reconciliation, if it can be called that, is tentative and partial. The damage remains visible. This refusal to overpromise feels honest. The play acknowledges that some wounds alter the shape of a relationship permanently, even if contact is restored.
In a larger venue, the piece might struggle to command attention. At the Jack Studio, its intimacy works in its favour. The audience is drawn into the sisters’ orbit, made privy to a conversation that feels almost private. When the lights fall, the prevailing mood is not one of spectacle but of recognition.
What I’d Be may rely too heavily on exposition to deliver its central revelation, but as a showcase for two finely tuned performances and a thoughtful exploration of sisterhood under strain, it makes a persuasive case for the power of small-scale theatre. In a room where every breath counts, it holds its nerve.
What I’d Be ran at the Jack Studio Theatre, Brockley, from 17–21 February 2026.
More information: https://brockleyjack.co.uk/jackstudio-entry/what-id-be/