Buried Truths and Second Chances: Two Come Home Delivers a Heartfelt, Moving Reckoning

The stage in Two Come Home may look bare, but it holds worlds. Joe Eason’s poignant drama takes us deep into the life of Evan Nicolson, a man trying to keep his head above water in a small, forgotten town in the Deep South. Evan’s quiet, solitary existence post-incarceration is shaken by the return of two figures who embody both his past and his pain: his monstrous father, Caleb, and Jimmy, his teenage best friend and first love. What unfolds is a story of guilt, regret, and the human need to reach out – even when every instinct tells you to hide away.

Eason, who not only wrote the play but also takes on the role of Evan, brings a rawness and intensity to the stage that lingers long after the final note. As Evan, he embodies a man torn between shame, love, and the faint hope of redemption. Ben Maytham’s Jimmy is captivating, resilient in the face of small-town judgment and the wounds that time has done little to heal. Their chemistry is undeniable, a mixture of tenderness and tension that keeps the audience spellbound, as if each look could rewrite the past.

Sometimes love is messy, but in Two Come Home, it’s devastating – and that’s where the play’s raw heart beats strongest.

James Burton is chilling as Caleb, Evan’s father, whose deep-seated prejudice and corrosive rage loom over every scene. Caleb is not just a man but a legacy of generational trauma, addiction, and homophobia, a reminder of the small-town judgments that weigh heavily on Queer lives in impoverished Southern communities. Nicola Goodchild as Amy, Evan’s mother, offers a contrast – a gentle strength that feels like it’s been stretched too thin. She is caught between loyalty to a husband she fears and love for a son she can’t quite protect, embodying the quiet tragedies of rural life.

Hannelore Canessa-Wright is memorable as Ashley, the local cop, whose dual role as friend and authority figure adds a layer of small-town tension. Her interactions with Evan underscore the challenges of finding connection in a place where the past never really stays buried, and everyone knows everyone’s secrets.

The play’s atmosphere is lifted by a live band, their music haunting yet unexpectedly uplifting, wrapping around the characters like the Southern hills that hold them. The score pulses through each scene, echoing the regrets, longings, and bittersweet comforts of solitude that permeate the story. It’s a soundtrack that adds emotional texture, hinting at the possibilities of second chances, even in lives marked by hardship.

Director Kirsten Obank Sharpe handles the material with deft sensitivity, allowing Eason’s script to breathe and keeping the characters’ struggles front and centre. The minimalist set and striking lighting choices draw the audience in, creating an intimacy that makes each moment feel both personal and profound. Watching Two Come Home feels like bearing witness to a private reckoning – a reminder of the courage it takes to break free from isolation and reach out to others.


Final Thoughts ★★★★★

Would I recommend Two Come Home? Without hesitation. This is the kind of theatre that goes beyond entertainment; it’s raw, necessary, and profoundly human. Two Come Home doesn’t just tell a story of Queer love – it digs into the very core of what it means to love, to betray, and to seek forgiveness in a world where acceptance can be painfully elusive. Joe Eason’s writing, paired with Kirsten Obank Sharpe’s sensitive direction, makes for a powerful, resonant experience that feels especially urgent today.

At a time when the voices of Queer individuals from rural, working-class backgrounds are too often unheard, Two Come Home brings them centre stage, capturing the courage it takes to reach for connection against the odds. With its haunting live score, complex characters, and unflinching look at the scars left by prejudice and solitude, this play is a bold reminder of why Queer stories matter. This isn’t just a play – it’s a reckoning, a testament to resilience, and a call for empathy. A truly unmissable play – this is outstanding, unforgettable theatre.

Playing at the Mercury Theatre until 3 November 2024.


Disclaimer: Ticket was purchased without any association or endorsement from the theatre.

More Reading