Writer: Evan Placey
Director: Esther Baker
For the ‘Lifers’, those completing a life sentence at HMP Drummond, games of poker, verbal jousts and gallows humour all form the makeup of the day’s routine. Yet when, for one prisoner, their life is turned upside down by a terminal diagnosis, the juxtaposing intersection between apathy and empathy for those behind bars becomes stark.
Lifers, a new work by Canadian-British playwright Evan Placey, is a collaboration between the writer and Synergy Theatre Project, a group whose productions, in particular, spotlight the perception of prisoners and aims to challenge our views on those locked up for some of the most heinous crimes.
The play centres around three ageing prisoners on B-Wing, Lenny (Peter Wight), Norton (Sam Cox) and Baxter (Ricky Fearon). Three pensioners who look destined to spend the rest of their time incarcerated, Placey’s writing does well to introduce us to an odd sense of normality that can come even in a place like prison. The play does not attempt to shed doubt on whether the men should be behind bars; instead, it focuses on sparking debate about how such individuals should be treated and whether there is any room for compassion and humanity for those who have committed such dreadful crimes.
It is through Lenny’s debilitating illness, a brain tumour that evokes dementia-like symptoms in the character, where the piece takes hold. Suffering with basic daily tasks like getting up and washing, Lenny is quickly and unusually supported by new prison warden Mark (James Backway), whose empathy towards the inmate proves a stark contrast to the rest of the prison system.
Wight’s portrayal of the fading Lenny is gripping, working effectively to create an engrossing character who it is almost completely impossible not to feel sympathy for. Placey’s writing deliberately enables audiences to get to grips with Lenny’s vulnerability first, his impending death, before revealing the horrifying reasons for Lenny’s life sentence, and Wight’s portrayal offers just enough glimmers of the hyper-masculine brute that once stood in Lenny’s shoes, before returning to the elderly shadow he now is.
It is also largely through Lenny’s character that Placey explores the treatment of inmates in an overcrowded, under-funded prison system. Lenny’s fury at his diagnosis is palpable, and the script draws parallels between the lack of treatment of those inside and the rest of the public, again reiterating the play’s wider stance on how we should perceive inmates.
Alongside Lenny are pals Norton (Sam Cox) and Baxter (Ricky Fearon). It is in the interactions between the three that the play feels its most authentic. Cox’s outrageous, ultra-sweary, dark-humoured Norton finds a nice balance between looking out for Lenny and looking out for himself, while Fearon’s Baxter’s calm, quick-witted nature complements the other two.
Placey’s writing also uses the trio not just to stereotype, that these men while away the time playing poker and pining for home, but also to reveal their views on a broken prison system, too. Not enough biscuits at a rehab group, dirty towels and a year-long petition for better pillows all seem trivial, but it is with the writing that these characters become more than just typical prisoners.
Backway’s Mark, a little too quickly eroded by the flaws in the prison system, is effective as the kind-hearted prison officer taking pity upon Lenny. Backway does well to craft out the character who is caught between what he perceives to be professional and moral duty, and his rapport with Wight creates a moving bond between the pair. The decision, then, to double Backway, casting him also as Lenny’s estranged son Simian, is a bold choice and helps to hit home the confusion Lenny has differentiating the two as the memory loss intensifies. Indeed, it is through the interactions between Lenny, Mark and Simian that the play really shines, with the final confrontation between father and son providing a gripping and fiercely tense encounter.
That said, Mark’s character, as well as Sonya and Wells, both played by Mona Goodwin, suffers from painfully obvious dialogue that jars with the authenticity we see between the trio. This is most notable when outside of the prison, where Mark and his friend, prison doctor Sonya, ruminate over the day’s events. The play and the script’s ulterior motives are just too obvious here. Mark’s kind-hearted and gentle approach with Lenny erodes into almost a caricature, oddly directed here with too much melodrama.
It is through Goodwin’s Dr Sonya and medical specialist Miss Wells that the piece really struggles. Goodwin, as a result of the script, creates utterly loathable representatives of the medical system that go beyond the pale. The broken nature of the NHS is all too well known already, yet through these two characters, who border on the spiteful, rather than just professionally stretched, it is hard to really see the play’s intentions that the system is against men such as Lenny.
‘We have a duty of care, Mark, but we don’t have a duty to care, ’ cries Sonya, whose character becomes a voice for those who lack compassion and empathy for those behind bars, writing them off. The sentiment is recognisable, and clearly, Sonya’s character is used by Placey to represent those in society who are whipped up into frenzies by the media about the ‘cushy’ lives of prisoners, but this is a little too on the nose and does not do much for enhancing the debate about how prisoners should be treated or perceived.
Tonally, the play lacks consistency, too. As well as the overly cold medical professionals, the switches to the scenes in the bar feel unnecessary. These scenes lack intrigue; the play is much better when behind bars. Katy McPhee’s set design works well with Tony Simpson’s lighting design to create a starkly bleak environment, but this is contradicted by unfortunate overlapping sound choices that get a little too messy. Fortunately, these are few and far between, but they do enough to hinder the play’s momentum.
That said, the play does have more than enough in it to succeed in spotlighting the rights and humanity of even those who have committed the most heinous acts. It is a strong choice to leave the revelation of Lenny’s actions until the play’s final few moments, forcing audiences to reconcile with themselves about their feelings for a character whose new vulnerability contradicts their potential for brutality. Lifers is at its best when it is behind bars, looking at prison life and the camaraderie that brews there, and sparks debate about whether justice and compassion can go side-by-side.
Runs until 25 October 2025
