We sat down for an exclusive interview with John Webber. A drama exploring class tensions in climate activism against a South Essex backdrop, Fire Fire is a two hander by John Webber drawing on his experiences of growing up and working in Thurrock, once one of the UK’s primary oil refining hubs.
Fire Fire is at Arcola Theatre, London, 9 Sept – 3 Oct then touring until 24 Oct, tickets here.
What drew you to Fire Fire, and what makes its story feel particularly relevant now?
The way the environment was showing itself as being in stress was a topic I’d wanted to tackle for a while but I was aware that it’s a really difficult thing to write. It’s too big, too abstract and therefore hard to make relatable. That’s why I focussed on climate protest and this seemed a much more human story – particularly when thinking about what drives people to take action and what makes people resist. The fact I was writing the play whilst wildfires ravaged the country and leading figures in the media and politics likened it to a good Mediterranean summer showed the debate was still very much alive and worthy of attention.
The play brings two very different people together. What did you discover about their unexpected connection?
During the writing of the play, I really enjoyed trying to find the connection between these characters. In the end, I realised that the natural world was the unifying thing – because we all seek comfort from it, whatever our politics, whether that’s sitting on a beach in Marbella, sunbathing in the park or hiking in Cumbria. This led me to look at how nature nurtured different cultures through time and this started creeping into the play, so that they ended up having a shared interest in the weird myths and folklore of the East of England, giving the show an epic quality.
What do you think the play says about the different ways people respond to climate protest?
My understanding came from where I grew up – Thurrock in Essex – and my realisation that some of the people I’d grown up with were reliant on working in the petrol-chemical factories along the Thames and that the people I admired for their climate action were mainly from elsewhere, from more affluent places to be honest. This class conflict intrigued me and was the jumping off point for a drama about how economics shapes our emotional response and feeds our political motivations. If you’re simply trying to put food on the table, thinking about the climate becomes more difficult.
How did you approach balancing the play’s humour with its more serious themes?
I trained as an actor and so dialogue is perhaps the easiest part of the writing process for me. I enjoy riffing from each character’s point of view – which can be dangerous as the story and the structure needs as much attention! – and it means the humour comes from that cut and thrust of everyday speech, the natural misunderstanding or accidental phrasing we’d recognise from everyday life.
What was the most surprising or challenging part of bringing Fire Fire to the stage?
One of things that surprised me is the way people have responded to the play – it seems to strike them on a very personal, emotional level. This was true in the sharings we organised during the play’s development, for instance, and in the way the actors talked about the play in the auditions. Some fundamental – or universal – things are touched on, starting with nature, obviously, but also our sense of purpose, what makes us despair, and where we derive comfort. I hope that continues to happen when the play runs at the Arcola and then tours.
What do you hope audiences are still thinking about after they leave the theatre?
I hope they’ll think about what’s happening to our environment, obviously, but perhaps in the way I mentioned – how something very simple we take for granted may now be lost – the nurturing quality of sitting on a beach, walking in the woods or whatever it is we like to do. And how recognising the risk of this loss could become a unifying thing, actually, bringing a diverse range of people together. Our sense of wonder in the natural world had an effect, to a degree, recently when we all looked up to see the solar eclipse – perhaps there might be a way to come together through recognising the power of nature to help us even if we do it only with one person at a time.