THE CHAOS THAT HAS BEEN AND WILL NO DOUBT RETURN – ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ – a spiky little beauty of a play with an epic title

Photograph by Harry Elletson

THE CHAOS THAT HAS BEEN AND WILL NO DOUBT RETURN

by Sam Edmunds

directed by Sam Edmunds and Vikesh Godhwani

Southwark Playhouse Borough – The Little, London – until 27 September 2025

running time: 80 minutes no interval 

https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/the-chaos-that-has-been/

Although modest in scale, this little show with an epic title is mighty in terms of ambition and agenda. The Chaos That Has Been And Will No Doubt Return received critical acclaim and sold out houses at the Edinburgh Festival, and watching it now in its London transfer, it’s pretty easy to see why: this is a cracking piece of theatre.

Sam Edmonds’s script is like a mash-up of Slam Poetry and the world building of Dylan Thomas’ Under Milk Wood. A whole community (in this case a socially deprived part of Luton, around twenty years ago, judging from the pop soundtrack and references to Motorolas and BlackBerrys) is evoked with just a trio of fabulous actors (Elan Butler, Nathaniel Christian, Leanne Henlon), wired energy and a relentless, stimulating barrage of words. 

Most of the play is set over one fateful night, where teenage leading character, named just Voice (Christian), and best mate Lewis (Butler), are headed to the birthday party of Lakesha (Henlon) the girl the former fancies. First they have to dupe an adult to buy booze for them, negotiate their parents, relatives and terrifying local yobs…then the evening takes an unexpected, gut wrenching turn. It sounds formulaic in theory but in practice it has an urgency and freshness that captivates and thrills, sometimes reminiscent of the early plays of Jonathan Harvey, but without the camp. The writing is at once salty and poetic, high flown yet real, and the underlying threat of violence adds an additional piquancy. It’s clever yet wholly accessible; it’s also very funny but full of heart and soul, and this terrific young cast revels in it.

Edmunds sets up neglected Luton as a sort of microcosm of multicultural Britain, giving Voice a rather beautiful speech appreciating the various colours and creeds of humanity living harmoniously side by side. The text is also full of wry social observances and a sizzling youthful vitality, underpinned by a layer of shuddering threat. Voice repeats the phrase that he is “standing on the precipice of choice” and in that he is a sort of ‘every-youth’ for whom the path they select will determine how the rest of their lives play out. The three actors are so engaging that it’s impossible not to invest in what’s going to happen to their characters.

Edmunds co-directs with Vikesh Godhwani against a constant background of banging music, and the whole staging fairly throbs with invention and grit. The outstanding movement work is by Jess Tucker Boyd. The pace is commendably swift and sure, though there are moments when the dialogue is delivered at such breakneck speed that clarity is sacrificed. For the most part the potty-mouthed humour and the intelligence and audacity of the storytelling win through however, and the final moments carry one hell of an emotional wallop. The piece ultimately serves as a warning about the fragility of human life, and the dangers of knife crime, but is remarkably non-preachy.

Christian beautifully conveys Voice’s combination of bravado and vulnerability, and has a winning ability to directly connect with the audience (avoid the front row if you don’t like interacting with the cast). The charismatic Butler displays the comic skills of a master but matches Christian’s depth at key moments. Henlon morphs between female and male characters with formidable dexterity but especially shines as two contrasting mums, and, as Lakesha, demonstrates exactly why Voice would fall for her.

This is something very special: a playful, punchy mirror up to the pitfalls of modern life, but also an eloquent lament for the loss of youth and innocence. See it, and you’ll roar with laughter…but you’ll probably leave with a lump in your throat. Essential theatre.

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