Ragdoll – Jermyn Street Theatre, London

Writer: Katherine Moar

Director: Josh Seymour

Ragdoll is a steady, character-driven drama that moves between decades, tracing the uneasy bond between a young media heiress accused of armed robbery and the hot-shot lawyer whose reputation becomes entwined with hers. The story, inspired by the infamous Patty Hearst trial, gradually folds time in on itself, turning pre-trial tension into a meditation on guilt, image, and the slipperiness of youth. Beneath Josh Seymour’s lucid direction, the play’s careful structure gives room for its ideas to unfurl with restraint rather than sensationalism.

There is a quiet assurance to Seymour’s staging, which blends realism with stylised, physical exchanges to underline the play’s temporal fluidity. Older characters hand objects to their younger counterparts, collapsing the boundaries of time and space in a way that makes the past feel constantly present. These moments of interaction lend the production a ghostly rhythm, as if memory itself were being passed between them. 

The production’s greatest strength lies in its performances. Nathaniel Parker and Abigail Cruttenden lead with precision, capturing both the arrogance and fragility of two people defined by their choices and by each other. Ben Lamb and Katie Matsell, as the younger iterations of these characters, echo their older counterparts with subtle physical and emotional gestures that make the transitions between eras strikingly believable.

The cast’s collective ability to embody sympathy and self-interest in equal measure keeps the play’s moral compass oscillating. Although the American accents occasionally falter, not fully corrected by dialect coach Aundrea Fudge, the emotional truth beneath them remains steady. The chemistry between the four actors is palpable, making their shifting allegiances and emotional dependencies feel lived-in and painfully human.

Katherine Moar’s script is robust yet familiar, relying on clean exposition and deliberate pacing rather than stylistic flourish. Unfortunately, this lack of voice leaves us with something that delivers competence rather than excitement. When the script momentarily departs from realism, the effect is electric: A shiver-inducing rupture that reframes everything that has come before. Yet the decision to extend this unreality through to the ending blunts the shock of its initial impact, leaving the final scenes oddly diffuse. It is a work that feels finely balanced yet slightly overcautious, unwilling to take the leap that might have elevated it from solid to unforgettable.

Ceci Calf’s design and Jamie Platt’s lighting are skilfully executed, though they fail to fully realise any sense of scale. The expanse of Robert’s California home, so central to the play’s world, never quite exhales into this small space. Still, Lex Kosanke’s sound design brings energy and texture, using crashing drums and bursts of electric guitar to mirror the volatile emotions beneath the dialogue. The music adds a much-needed electricity, propelling the action forward even as the dialogue begins to circle familiar territory.

Ragdoll is a compelling and admirably constructed piece of theatre. Intelligent, well-acted, and unpretentious. Yet for all its polish, it ultimately feels contained. The chill of its strongest moment lingers, but the heat of its promise never quite reignites.

Runs until 15 November 2025