ajhlovestheatre

THE FEAR OF 13

by Lindsey Ferrentino

directed by Justin Martin

Donmar Warehouse, London – until 30 November 2024

https://www.donmarwarehouse.com/whats-on/36/by-lindsey-ferrentino/the-fear-of-13

Oscar winner Adrien Brody making his theatrical debut at one of London’s most prestigious boutique venues was always going to be big news. The Fear of 13, one of three 2024 world premieres from American writer Lindsey Ferrentino, turns out to be an event for other reasons as well. Firstly it’s an astonishingly assured opening production for Tim Sheader’s inaugural season as artistic director of the Donmar Warehouse; it also marks the London stage debut of acclaimed screen multi-hyphenate Nana Mensah, in a role and performance almost as pivotal and certainly as impressive as Brody’s.

Sheader doesn’t direct, handing the reins to Justin Martin, a sometimes collaborator of Stephen Daldry with whom he shares a gift for deceptive simplicity melded with bold theatricality, and an almost alchemical ability to seamlessly fuse text with sophisticated technical elements. Martin also has form for coaxing remarkable stage performances out of screen actors, having steered Jodie Comer through the internationally acclaimed Prima Facie. 

Brutal yet tender, The Fear of 13 takes place simultaneously in a barbaric American Death Row prison, where inmates sometimes wait for decades or more for the inevitable, and in the minds and imaginations of the two principal characters. It’s based on the true story of a spectacular miscarriage of justice that cost Nick Yarris decades of his life. If it doesn’t make you angry, check your pulse.

Brody proves an authentic stage creature. He is terrific as Yarris, bowed but unbroken, imbuing him with a grace that’s ethereal yet earthy, conveying every nuance of his enquiring, optimistic personality, and a sweetness under the bad-boy attitude that may or may not be a put-on. His vacillations between embodying his sloppy misspent youth, himself as a timid nine year old and finally a disillusioned but not-quite-hardboiled longterm prisoner are compellingly done. When he explodes in anger it’s genuinely unsettling even as it’s understandable, and when his hope is finally extinguished it’s almost unbearable to watch. He manages Ferrentino’s exquisitely crafted monologues like a champ, especially the deeply moving final one which is a clarion call to grab every last morsel of life available to you. This is undoubtedly one of the performances of the year.

Equally brilliant is Mensah as Jackie, the benignly spiky prison visitor who begins as Nick’s confidante but becomes a beacon of love, light and hope to him. She’s a complex young woman and Mensah brings her to shimmering, watchful life in a performance that’s as selfless as it’s technically adroit. If initially I was disappointed that the trope of prisoner and visitor finding a romantic connection was introduced, it yields powerful emotional fruit as the play progresses. 

Martin has assembled a fine supporting cast, surrounding the two leading players on all sides, sometimes as observers, sometimes as judges and participants, and sometimes like pack animals waiting to pounce. Ferdy Roberts is particularly impressive switching between vicious warden, cowering inmate and Nick’s bewildered, straightforward dad, and Cyril Nri brings gravitas and breathtaking range to a variety of roles. The incarcerated men play people from Nick’s past and Jackie’s future, abusive guards and even an angelic-voiced choir. It could easily tip over into whimsicality but Martin’s staging is infused with a sort of grim magic that keeps us spellbound, even as we are alternately appalled, upset and totally riveted by what we are watching. 

Miriam Buether’s all-encompassing set suggests both a stark prison house and a playground for the imagination, and is thrillingly augmented by Jon Clark’s piercing lighting and Ash J Woodward’s multi-faceted video designs. DJ Walden’s music and Ian Dickinson’s sound, both omnipresent, also contribute invaluably to the simmering tension and atmosphere. All in all, this is a beautiful staging, full of edge and fury, and just magnificent theatrical storytelling.

If you haven’t already seen David Sington’s documentary about Yarris but plan to experience the play, I strongly advise going in cold: without wishing to sound callous, the drama plays out like a taut dynamic thriller with an extraordinary and authentic emotional punch when you don’t know what the conclusion is going to be. 

Ultimately, it’s difficult to know if Ferrentino’s text would stand up as well as it does without the controlled firepower of the performances and the austere flash of Martin’s overall vision, but really it doesn’t matter, this is a triumph and it achieves the considerable feat of being hugely entertaining while never losing sight of the harrowing human cost at core. In short, The Fear of 13 is a tremendous piece of total theatre, haunting, stirring and vital. The run is unsurprisingly already sold out but any serious theatregoer who doesn’t already have tickets needs to keep an eye out for returns. Be prepared to think, feel, marvel and get thoroughly knocked out.