Vincent River – Greenwich Theatre, London

Writer: Philip Ridley

Director: James Haddrell

Philip Ridley’s two-hander from 2000 explores the emotional aftermath of a homophobic hate crime. A young man, Vincent Rivers, has been savagely murdered in East London. His mother had not previously known he was gay and has to deal with a bunch of emotions: grief for her dead son, disgust for his sexual preferences, anger at the reaction of her neighbours and workmates. She has run away to Dagenham to escape from toxic comments and shame and grief. A young man, David, appears at her new front door, desperate to talk to her about her son. The play is simply their ninety-minute-long conversation in the front room of her unfurnished house.

Ridley takes the audience on a journey through some pretty grim experiences, and he elaborates on those experiences unsparingly, graphically, and shockingly. The language used is a heightened version of the Bethnal Green demotic he grew up with, the experiences they describe are brutal but not fantastic. The violence and horror that he likes to portray is happening, regularly and in places not unlike Bethnal Green (or Shoreditch Rise, as Ridley labels the site of the gay cottage where the murder takes place). As well as being brutal and shocking, though, the language is lively and colourful and funny. It isn’t a strain listening to ninety minutes of dialogue as well-honed as this.

The mother is played by Kerrie Taylor, the young man by Brandon Kimaryo, and both of them are great. Their exchanges run a gamut of shock and disgust and grief and tenderness, constantly switching tone, constantly in flux. The actors navigate this whirlpool of emotions with exemplary skill. They tell each other stories about themselves and about Vincent; they discover new things, they let go of feelings they have been hiding, and they grow in front of the audience. A lot of the things they discover are uncomfortable since exploring uncomfortable things is Philip Ridley’s stock in trade, but Taylor and Kimaryo make the discoveries telling and affecting. Their feelings aren’t necessarily nice, but they feel true.

Alice Carroll gives us a set that shows an unfurnished house, which isn’t beautiful but is convincing. James Haddrell directs his actors in an unflashy but dynamic dance around the sofa that is the only furniture. The moment when both of the characters feel comfortable enough to share it is a telling emotional beat. Kerrie Taylor’s collapse onto her hands and knees when her grief overwhelms her is excruciating and comes from the delicate choreography of the piece.

Ridley sometimes seems to enjoy shock and horror as entertainment, but this show grounds the experience, makes it telling, makes it real. It’s a valuable piece of work given a well-wrought, effective, and moving expression through excellent acting and sympathetic direction.

Runs until 15 July 2023