‘Lavender’ review
‘a little gem of a play, gifted real life by compassionate direction and understated chemistry […] an evening of worthwhile heartbreak.’
Touching and restrained, Sixth Side Theatre’s production of Lavender is a moving depiction of human fragility, and a tribute to the tender beauty of lives that never get the chance to see the light. Penned by Bex Smith, this war-time love triangle between a traumatised soldier, a waiting wife, and a farmhand unfolds in expected ways, before intelligently subverting the assumptions created by early scenes to honour the full connotations of the eponymous flower.
Smith’s writing shows real craftsmanship, allowing three complex and sympathetic characters to emerge through naturalistic conversation, before the stakes truly land and heavy-hitting lines bring the tragic circumstances of their lives into sharp relief. There were multiple moments that elicited gasps, some from shock, others from sadness, and even a couple of genuine laughs that cut through the tension. While some relationships feel as though they crystallise too quickly after a single scene, those scenes themselves remain emotionally complex, grounded in compelling character dynamics that make this a minor complaint.
One moment that encapsulates the script’s efficiency is Smith’s use of a monologue addressed to a rabbit, grounding us in the lifeworld of injured soldier Edward while establishing an unforced conflict with farmhand Sam, without rendering either character unsympathetic. That the opening of this scene is so compelling while relying on a single actor speaking to a puppet is a testament to the gentle presence of Finlay Gatehouse, who infuses Edward with a quiet vulnerability and emotional clarity that commands the audience’s attention. Edward is a complex figure: at times biting in the throes of addiction, at others deeply vulnerable, and lost in hopeless yearning. Gatehouse’s compassionate and unflinchingly believable embodiment of this traumatised, lost soul sustains our sympathy even as he leans into moments of real ugliness.
Continually grappling with her husband’s condition, Maggie Reaney’s Eleanor is played with poised restraint, gifting the character an immense dignity and strength without ever feeling stilted. She becomes a ballast of resilience in a society rocked by war, and Reaney balances understandable frustration with humane conviction across both moments of conflict and tenderness. Together, Smith and Reaney ensure that a character who could easily be reduced to a foil to the gay love at the heart of the drama is instead rendered as one of three equally tragic protagonists.
Arguably the most sympathetic figure, though, is Tom Oakes’ Sam, played with unassuming charisma and gentle authenticity, so that every line revealing the full tragedy of his circumstances in the second act lands like a gut punch. Oakes makes Sam an immensely likeable presence, the kind of everyman you instinctively want to be friends with, allowing us to feel the limits of his social position without ever sacrificing the depth of the farmhand’s youthful wisdom.
As a trio, the performers remain restrained, honouring the social constraints of the setting while keeping their conflicts tense and their attempts at connection quietly devastating. This balance reflects Smith’s assured direction, supported by Assistant Director Roz Crompton. The production’s era is further anchored by Sarah Cross’ costume work, dressing the cast in gorgeous vintage attire without compromising the austerity of the First World War setting.
The intimacy of Trevelyan College’s Dowrick Suite Theatre is used with great sensitivity by Production Manager Bryony Curley, whose collaboration with Lighting Designer William Dinnie allows the space to shift effortlessly between wide fields and domestic enclosure. Isabella Hamann’s sound design weaves gentle string motifs through the production, making even the scene transitions feel whimsical, guided by the deft work of Cross and Emily Atkinson as Stage Crew. Stage Managers Harry Naylor and Lily Beetles complete the world with an economy of set that evokes a lived-in domestic space without ever distracting from the human drama at its centre.
If you want to see a little gem of a play, gifted real life by compassionate direction and understated chemistry, then head down to the Dowrick Suite Theatre for an evening of worthwhile heartbreak.
By Laurie Davidson.