Selina Fillinger’s ‘Something Clean’ is an intimate, unexpected drama following one woman’s struggle to make sense of her own grief, love, and culpability after her only son is incarcerated for sexual assault. We sat down for an exclusive interview with Director Alex Stroming (she/her) and Assistant Director Jessica Potts (she/her) to learn more about the piece and their connection with the Survivor’s Trust, a national membership organisation supporting specialist rape and sexual abuse services in the voluntary sector.
Something Clean plays April 29 – May 3, 2026 at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre. Tickets here.
What challenges come with staging a story centred on the aftermath of harm rather than the act itself?
JP: A challenge I have noticed lies in how a brief description of the play can sometimes come across as “it’s about the parents of the perpetrator” when the story actually centres survivors in a way that I have never seen before. The piece is also largely inspired by the words of Chanel Miller’s victim impact statement without trying to re-use or over-dramatise her words. I think concern that we are somehow telling the wrong story (if those exist) quickly disappears when you see the play. It’s a piece that raises difficult questions without ‘clean’ answers.
AS: A big challenge is to avoid sensationalizing the perpetrator or turning it into a “true crime” story. Selena Fillinger handles this quite well in terms of the play’s focus—the question of “Is he guilty/responsible?” is answered with a resounding “yes” and is never questioned. The question of “why did he do it?” is not the focus at all. The main question is “…what now?” What happens when the cameras and media turn away? What secret, earth-shattering statements never make it to the courtroom? Here we see a journey of trying, stumbling, failing, and, ultimately, the beginning of healing.
What conversations did you have early on about handling such sensitive material responsibly?
AS: As soon as we were granted the license for Something Clean, I reached out to the Survivor’s Trust. They do similar work as some of the characters in the play, so it felt essential not only for the sensitive material but also for authenticity! We connected with the lovely and incomparable Helen, who answered a ridiculously long list of questions, from “What does a typical day at a centre for survivors look like?” to “How reliable are sexual assault stats?” to “What do you love/hate most about your job?” She was so generous and supportive of the story, giving us the language of “secondary survivors” to describe the experiences of people who are not directly involved in a sexual assault but are very much impacted by the event.
Practically, we brought on an intimacy director, the lovely Liz Kent, who provides fantastic resources for self-care & awareness for the entire team as we engage with difficult material.
How have conversations with or resources from organisations like The Survivors Trust informed your approach?
AS: Jessie did some amazing research inspired by our conversation which she presented to our actors and sparked a valuable rehearsal room chat, so I’ll let her tell you more!
JP: The playwright has said the play is based on the Brock Turner case so we did a deep dive on the facts of the case, which is now ten years old, and a cornerstone of the MeToo movement. We also looked into some of the differences between the systems in the UK and the US to provide added context; things like campus police, fraternities and a US equivalent of the Survivor’s Trust: RAINN. From chatting to Helen from the Survivor’s Trust, what she loves most about what she does is the people she works with. There is a lot of joy in her life and her colleagues share a sense of humour. Studies show humour may play a significant role in preventing burnout in nurses (Diana et al, 2023), acts as a coping mechanism for social care workers (Fogarty & Elliot, 2020) and fosters resilience in anyone working in an intense environment. (Kyomigusha, 2025). This is reflected in the play and has also informed our rehearsal room ethos. At the end of the day we are not frontline workers, but taking a page from their book has informed the process and given valuable insight. It’s also a lovely way to work in general.
How did you ensure the production remains sensitive to survivors while telling a story centred on a perpetrator’s family?
AS: Without giving too much away, I would say this play is almost entirely focused on survivors, not perpetrators. The most pivotal character in the play is a survivor, and the majority of the play explores how people continue to live with trauma, highlighting that it’s not possible to just “move on.” Particularly with the language of “secondary survivors” that was introduced to us in our chat with Helen, I’ve been much more aware of how individual instances of sexual assault can affect an entire community. We are seeing this on a large scale in many places in the world—for example in Sudan, where horrific, widespread sexual violence is influencing an entire population (more information on this crisis and how you can help here).
Much like the myth that feminism is only for women, there is an assumption that fighting against sexual violence is primarily matters to (or worse, is the responsibility of) people who have experienced it first-hand. Unfortunately, that is still a lot of people, but I think those who haven’t, regardless of gender, would be shocked to realize how much sexual violence does impact them or their loved ones. The thing that Helen said she hates most about her job? Constantly convincing and expressing to people how much of an issue sexual violence is. If we can amplify the work of organizations like the Survivor’s Trust while we have an audience and authentically portray the complexity of the ripple effects of even one instance of sexual violence, hopefully we can make the work of the heroes like Helen a little easier. The play may be called ‘Something Clean’, but we are making noise and embracing the mess.









