Writer and Director: Fionnuala Donnelly
The devil, in the form of jovial Kate Bush-quoting actor Neo Jelfs, welcomes the audience individually on their arrival to Fionnuala Donnelly’s comedy drama God, The Devil and Me. Seemingly, his complementary force, God, in the form of an irritable, all-smiting Noah Edmondson, is stuck in traffic. Cue some gentle banter about snow and pets, and an audience member’s quip about “Waiting for Godot”. It is genial, undemanding stuff, as is the following 70 minutes that sees the two deities bickering furiously inside the psychotic mind of troubled 17-year-old Gabe.
God wants Gabe (a sparky and convincing Noah Edmondson), who unbeknownst to him was born an angel, to save the world. Providing Gabe can be persuaded to bring an “end to all evil”, the devil will be redeemed, and God’s place on high will be assured. Staking the fate of the universe on the shoulders of a teenager with mental health challenges is, one supposes, a recipe for trouble, particularly when those offering advice admit to being “two omnipotent arseholes”.
Gabe’s evangelical Mum (Fionnuala Donnelly took inspiration for the play from their own episode of teenage psychosis) struggles to understand what her son’s hallucinations mean and why he is missing so much school. The boy’s bestie Sam makes a sympathetic appearance, too (Miranda McEwen engages but has little to do).
The tension ratchets up a notch when Gabe sprouts angelic wings, and the sound of canned laughter begins to interrupt the ever more hectoring and judgmental verbiage of the twin deities. The second half sees Gabe sectioned in a mental hospital, struggling with medication and reluctant to accept that the voices he hears are unreal. He finds comfort and support from fellow patient Hannah (Maisie Lee Mead), whose struggles with eating disorders are aired with brutal clarity.
Donnelly writes decent comic dialogue, and the quickfire exchanges between Jelfs’ amiable devil and Edmondson’s caustic God certainly bring momentum to the piece. Indeed, there are times when one wishes Donnelly would slow things down a little and give some of the better jokes time to land. A game of truth and dare with God (who presumably knows all the answers anyway) offers an opportunity for some just-this-side-of-cringe-making audience interaction.
Those looking for a harder-edged take on the lived experience of a psychotic episode might want to search out a production of Sarah Kane’s superb 4.48 Psychosis. Still, what emerges with gentle clarity here is both the suffering psychosis engenders and a convincing explanation for why those hearing inner voices are often reluctant to let them go.
Runs until 10 January 2026
