Lavender, Hyacinth, Violet, Yew – Bush Theatre, London

Writer: Coral Wylie

Director: Debbie Hannan

One of the earliest scenes in Coral Wylie’s Lavender, Hyacinth, Violet, Yew causes the heart to sink. Suburban couple Craig and Lorin discuss their non-binary child Pip, with Wil Johnson’s Craig unable to let go of the idea of Pippa, his daughter, in favour of Pip. It’s not that such a concept is unworthy of performance – but however much Wylie infuses the scene with humour (including Craig’s misunderstanding of the difference between being non-binary and being bisexual, not helped by Pip being both), it feels like a shallow exploration of identity.

One needn’t have worried, though, for it soon becomes clear that this scene is more about expositing Pip’s identity so that their exploration of their parents’ past has more context. Once the fumbling awkwardness of that initial scene goes away, Wylie’s script soon begins to soar.

When Pip (played by Wylie) discovers a diary belonging to their parents’ old friend Duncan (Omari Douglas), they find a connection to the past that they have never felt in the present. Duncan is queer, out and proud, and with a love of horticulture – all things that Pip sees reflected in themself.

As Pip explores the diary, Douglas appears in flashback, interacting with versions of Craig and Lorin who seem much different to the parents Pip knows. The trio of best friends get the best out of each other, with Johnson, in particular, providing a sharp contrast between the ebullient Craig of the 1990s and the more serious, deflated version of today.

Alongside him, Pooky Quesnel’s Lorin initially seems to have changed little over the years, although layered into that is the germ of change in the earlier timeline, as her character starts to keep secrets of her own.

Every time Douglas is on stage, one can see precisely why Pip is drawn to the vivaciousness evident in the diary extracts, just as their parents were before them. It may not be a groundbreaking portrayal of a gay man, but seeing someone so thoroughly embrace life even as they are faced with a (then terminal) HIV diagnosis is nevertheless fulfilling and empowering.

As the secrets unfold in both the past and the present, the stakes seem to shrink away a little. It’s almost as if Wylie knows their story is taking some big swings but pulls back at the last minute to avoid missing their target. When everything does line up, though, Lavender, Hyacinth, Violet, Yew lands some strong punches. Wylie’s writing is at its strongest as Craig finally opens up about the grief he’s internalised for twenty years. Although Johnson doesn’t quite manage to make his climactic monologue feel naturalistic, it still speaks to, and on behalf of, so many who lost loved ones at the height of the AIDS crisis.

Wylie themselves creates a fun, thoughtful, immaturely mature mess of contradictions in Pip. But it is Douglas’s humorous, haunting turn that captivates and, like Duncan, sticks in the memory. Like the garden he plans in his final days, his performance – and the whole of Lavender, Hyacinth, Violet, Yew – will live on in memory.

Continues until 22 March 2025