Written by Tim Foley, Life Out There is a sharp, funny and quietly horrifying new sci-fi drama exploring the ethics of space exploration, human selfishness, and the fragile hope that humanity can still change.
This show runs at 1-4 July – Lowry, Salford
6-9 July – The Engine Room, Wigan
16 July – Jodrell Bank Observatory
Tim, what first sparked the idea for Life Out There?
If I may shamelessly use space metaphors, for this play there was no ‘Big Bang’; there has just been a slow accumulation of space dust. It’s a story that has crept up on us slowly, I think. I remember the day we first started talking about what the project would become. We were joking about taking well-known stories and doing the ‘in space’ version (e.g. King Lear in space! Moby Dick in space!), which was a fun game to play. But then we ditched the familiar narratives and just began pondering what ‘in space’ actually meant. The loneliness, the wild distances, the idea of hope in all that emptiness.
Science fiction can often feel vast and spectacular, but this sounds like a deeply human story. How did you balance the scale of space with the intimacy of the characters’ relationships?
This is definitely a story that couldn’t work without the human focus. Theatre demands those personal, intimate moments. But our ambition is certainly to straddle the micro and the macro. These are four people confronting something massive, and that leads to lots of juicy theatrical moments.
New plays often change a lot before they meet an audience. Has Life Out There shifted much through development?
Oh, it has shifted tonnes. The play has been in development for many years, and every time we have revisited it we’ve brought different ideas and different aspects. It’s great the show is going up following the Artemis mission that captured the world’s attention. It’s made space exploration feel a little more magical again.
The one-night-only performance at Jodrell Bank sounds so special. What was your reaction when that possibility first became real?
I was delighted! As some of your readers may know, Jodrell Bank is where the Fourth Doctor Who sadly fell to his death (darn that dastardly Master), so it’s always held a special place in my geeky heart. Our first visits to them in a research capacity were such a lovely experience. The staff there are so knowledgeable and so generous, so it’s very, very cool that we get to perform the play there.
This is your second collaboration with Ransack Theatre after Jurassic. What keeps drawing you back to working with them?
I have compromising material on both Piers and Ali. I kid, I kid! They’re superb artists and good eggs. Theatre is a team sport, and it’s important to find your people. These are my people.
You’ve written for both stage and audio, including Murder on Mars and Doctor Who. What do those forms teach you about storytelling?
I love my audio work, and that tends to be storytelling that has mass appeal and more plot propulsion. There are cliffhangers and subplots and action sequences galore. My theatre work didn’t use to have any of that, but I’ve started importing it onto the stage. I like my plays to be thrilling and have lots going on. It means there’s plenty to mull over in the theatre bar afterwards.
If audiences could take one feeling from Life Out There, what would you want it to be?
I want to make it impossible for audiences to take just one mere feeling away with them! This is an epic tale with feelings galore. I want people wrestling with all the dilemmas we put before them. What would you do if you were one of these astronauts? What choices would you make? What life would you live amongst the stars?

