Craig Wright’s The Unseen, now playing at Riverside Studios, doesn’t pull its punches. With an unflinching eye on the brutality of a totalitarian regime, it draws you into the stark lives of Wallace (Richard Harrington) and Valdez (Waj Ali), two prisoners communicating through the thin walls of their cells. As the play unfolds, it challenges you to find humanity in the bleakest of circumstances – and to consider how connection, even in its most fragile form, sustains us.
From the moment you enter the theatre, the atmosphere is stifling. The actors are already on stage, Valdez standing lost in his cell like a confused animal, while Wallace lies utterly still, as though the fight has already left him. It’s an evocative opening, one that immerses you immediately in their harsh, claustrophobic world. The stage design by Simon Kenny is as stark as the story itself: three cells embedded into the stage, the middle one ominously empty. That void is hard to ignore, a chilling reminder of silenced voices and lives lost. Above the stage, a grid of small lights looms like a perpetual surveillance system, while sirens blare at regular intervals, jolting you just as you’re settling in.
Through the claustrophobic prison walls, the play becomes a mirror, asking us: in isolation, what do we hold onto – and what do we trust?
Danny Short’s sound design is oppressive and deliberate, adding a layer of disquiet that never lets up. It’s not just a set – it’s a sensory trap, pulling you into the world of these prisoners and ensuring you feel the same unease they do. I mean, I’m all for immersive theatre, but I don’t think I unclenched my jaw once.
At its heart, The Unseen is a study of resilience, guilt, and human connection under unimaginable duress. Waj Ali brings a raw, heart-wrenching vulnerability to Valdez. His portrayal oscillates between tension and tenderness, his delivery deeply affecting as he reaches for a humanity the regime is intent on stripping away. Opposite him, Richard Harrington’s Wallace is a masterclass in subtlety. He threads sardonic wit through moments of despair, providing both the play’s moments of relief and its most poignant truths. Their relationship – tentative, desperate, and achingly human – is the play’s beating heart. The smallest exchanges between them become monumental in this suffocating context. It’s raw, fragile, and heartbreakingly believable.
Ross Tomlinson’s portrayal of Smash, the enforcer, is particularly compelling – and, let’s be honest, he brought a striking presence to that uniform. Smash is far more than a faceless symbol of authority – he’s a man undone by the weight of his own complicity. Tomlinson captures this conflict beautifully, balancing menace with fragility. At times, his struggle feels like reverse Stockholm syndrome; instead of the prisoners identifying with their captor, it’s Smash who becomes trapped by his growing empathy for the men he’s meant to control. It’s an unsettling and deeply human depiction of guilt and repression.
This is a story you need to see – urgent, thought-provoking, and hauntingly timely.
Director Iya Patarkatsishvili leans into the play’s ambiguity to powerful effect. The unnamed regime and stripped-back setting lend the story a universality that feels chillingly timely. Still, with its references to torture and systemic brutality, it’s hard to miss a subtle nod to Russia, especially given the accompanying Faces of Russian Resistance photography exhibition in the lobby. It’s a clever pairing that makes the story resonate beyond the stage, forcing you to confront the realities of political oppression in the modern world.
Final Thoughts ★★★★★
Would I recommend The Unseen? Absolutely. This is the kind of production that refuses to leave you untouched. A harrowing and profoundly human story told with razor-sharp precision, it lingers long after the play ends, leaving echoes that are hard to shake.
Wright’s script is a relentless examination of survival, connection, and the resilience of the human spirit. The performances are extraordinary, the staging starkly effective, and the direction taut and purposeful. The Unseen transcends its ambiguous setting to deliver something uncomfortably universal – a stark and unforgettable reminder of how oppressive regimes crush individuality yet fail to extinguish humanity.
In today’s world, this narrative hits painfully close to home. With anti-Queer laws in many countries making it illegal and punishable to exist as Queer, the play feels devastatingly relevant. Its quiet but powerful commentary on systemic oppression reminds us how vital it is to shine a light on those trapped in these hidden battles. This is a story you need to see – urgent, thought-provoking, and hauntingly timely.
Playing at Riverside Studios until 14 December 2024.
Disclaimer: A complimentary ticket was provided in return for an honest and unbiased review.
More Reading
- A Queer Cowboy in the City: Lonesome’s Gritty Tale of Queer Longing and Discovery
- All of Us Strangers: A Hauntingly Beautiful Exploration of What Could Have Been
- Bear Traps at The Golden Goose Theatre: A Quiet Look at Family Ties and Black Holes
- Buried Truths and Second Chances: Two Come Home Delivers a Heartfelt, Moving Reckoning
