Oct 104 min read

Review: Reverberation (Bristol Old Vic)

Review by Seth Wilby

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

On paper, Reverberation seems like a difficult watch. The content warnings inform of references to homophobia, scenes of sexual intimacy and descriptions of a violent attack, and a recent interview with playwright Matthew López described it as a play that many were too scared to produce. Dealing with loneliness to its highest level, would this play act as an imperative piece of art, or be haunting in all the wrong ways?

Premiering in Connecticut in 2015, Bristol Old Vic presents the month-long, European premiere of Reverberation, from Matthew López- the Tony and Olivier winning writer of The Inheritance. This three-hander centres on Jonathan (Michael Ahomka-Lindsay), near-agoraphobic after a personal tragedy and with little social life beyond the men he meets online, and the deep rooted changes undertaken when the enigmatic, high-spirited Claire (Eleanor Tomlinson) moves upstairs. Their paths cross and they’re drawn together by a need for emotional attachment, but Jonathan's past continues to haunt.

It’s hard to say much more without spoiling elements of the play- this is something that should be watched at the pace intended, with the essence of our characters revealed gradually. Matthew López’s writing is exquisite, possessing a way with words that feels incredibly authentic. These characters properly felt like real people and I found myself genuinely rooting for them to find happiness. His exploration of such complex feelings of grief, anger and fear is deeply considered and expressed fully with the tenderness and sensitivity that these themes deserve. One particular monologue from Jonathan is sure to leave a lump in your throat. Yet there’s also growth in the plot that feels remarkably hopeful. Sure, it deals with very poignant themes of loneliness but the trust and dependence our two characters build with each other is simply beautiful.

The character of Jonathan feels the most developed, undertaking such immense change throughout the piece. Occasionally, this can leave Claire feeling shunned to the side slightly- the absence of any clear backstory for her means we don’t see the effect their friendship has on her to the same extent. But the scenes between them are so captivating to watch. Dialogue switches from a rapid back and forth to traumatic retellings with ease. López also has a strong grasp on humour, knowing exactly when the story needs it and recognising its coexistence with the darker themes in the show.

It would be impossible to discuss this show without referencing the ending (no spoilers here though, don’t worry). While it does seem slightly rushed, the infinite ends for discussion that it opens up are possessive, and it doesn’t feel like this undermines the themes in the rest of the show, instead ensuring it will stay with you for a long time. Questions are certainly left unanswered but there's something about that which is very touching, leaving you to explore the nuances in your own time. This welcomes a more disguised theme in the play of emotional façades- often things in life are left incomplete, and the play proves how hard it can be to judge someone from only one encounter.

Jack Sain’s direction handles the tension brilliantly, fluently suppressing and expanding it for the whole two and a half hours. Sain highlights the complex depth of loneliness, and allows the writing and technical elements to perfectly complement one another. Ti Green’s set is gloriously monochromatic, portraying both flats with realism and personality, and providing a perfect canvas for the lighting and video design (by Robbie Butler and Daniel Denton, respectively). Denton’s projections are a nice touch to enhance Jonathan’s thoughts, and provide us with a damaging insight into his head. Nicola T Chang’s sound design and composition is shockingly haunting, enhancing the most intense moments, and underscoring the more conversational scenes flawlessly.

Visually, there is a lot to symbolise the emotional change. By the second half, the cluttered set has become far more stripped back, losing a lot of the books it was littered with previously, and the costuming (also by Green) reflects these changes in the characters- Claire’s extravagant outfits become more toned down as her personality becomes more grounded, and Jonathan begins wearing more colour, representing his growth in hope. Jade Hackett’s movement completes each visual, with the choreography during scene changes feeling both robotic and fluid, the latter especially so as the show progresses and Jonathan escapes from the prior repetition of his life.

Bringing this profound work to life is an incredibly captivating cast of three. In his limited stage time, Jack Gibson makes an impressive professional debut as Wes, someone Jonathan meets on Grindr- tragically yet lovably awkward in all his self-deprecation, with a strong devotion to Jonathan. Eleanor Tomlinson brings a thoughtful humanity to Claire, and it’s a joy to watch her explore the character as we’re exposed to layers of sensitivity and suppression. Her comedic delivery is admirable and her chemistry with Michael Ahomka-Lindsay’s Jonathan is divine. Barely leaving the stage, Ahomka-Lindsay is exceptional. An incredibly delicate performance with a hidden and human emotional depth, his command of the stage and the text is so masterful that Jonathan’s arc feels palpable. His hopefulness is heartening, and his moments of downfall heartbreaking, with the presence of his past tragedy poignant throughout.

Loneliness can be uncomfortable and, at times, this play is too, but the exploration of all its themes feels extensive and, in many ways, hopeful. Undoubtedly, it will stay with you for a long time, and open up room to think about your own feelings and your individual interpretations of the text. With exquisite writing and delicate performances, Reverberation is a strong, authentic and touching play that gives you space to just feel.