The Trumpeter – Finborough Theatre, London

Writer: Inna Goncharova, translated by John Farndon

Director: Vladimir Shcherban

When Russia began its assault on Ukraine in the early months of 2022, Mariupol was a key target in Putin’s efforts to create a land bridge to Crimea. Over the course of just a few weeks, up to 95% of the city was destroyed. As bombs destroyed hospitals and theatres where many civilians were sheltering, one of the last refuges became the Azovstal steel works, an industrial complex that, deep beneath, housed Cold War-era bomb shelters.

It is in this situation that Inna Goncharova’s The Trumpeter situates us. The musician of the title is a former composer, trained at a conservatory in Kyiv, who has now signed up as a musician in a brigade’s big band. But by the time we meet them, the trumpeter is the only survivor and is stuck in a shelter with Collier, a young lieutenant.

Kristin Milward plays both the unnamed trumpeter and Collier, attempting to use the small confines of the Finborough to convey the sense of claustrophobia that those sheltering at Azovstal must have felt. As the trumpeter seeks refuge in composing, attempting to turn the various rhythms of the Russian bombardment into a war symphony, there is a semblance of the need to find order and beauty amongst the horror and chaos. There are also reminiscences, as the trumpeter recalls his previous life of peace and love, with the occasional performance in a wedding band to boot.

But the stress and the trauma are ever-present. This is represented by Milward with some intense physicality, and some of those moments work. The occasions where she slams herself against the walls and floor of the theatre are more effective than those where she emits primal screams as she twirls chairs around while the space fills with a smoke machine.

But it is in the dialogue, and the creation of the two central characters, that the play has the most to lose. And so it is here. Both of Milward’s main characters move between contemplative, enraged and histrionic, with little distinction between the two. At times, it’s hard to tell which character she is playing. In the rush to convey the sense of horror and loss at the heart of war, it feels as if The Trumpeter has not had time to think if its message is getting through.

Perhaps the play’s most effective scenes come in blackout, where the characters stop bickering at each other and we hear the sounds of war. Milward’s trumpeter has previously attempted to mimic each of those, as he annotates them for inclusion in his symphony. Hearing the real thing, the sounds of a city being razed and its residents wiped out, is the most affecting of all.

Continues until 3 August 2024