Review: Sea Wall, Old Red Lion Theatre
Revived with piercing simplicity, Sea Wall is a heart-stopping meditation on love, loss, and the tides that drag us under.Summary
Rating
Excellent
Don’t be fooled by the runtime – Simon Stephens’ Sea Wall is a powerful pocket of theatre; short, sharp, and designed to wound. First performed in 2008 by Andrew Scott (yes, that Hot Priest, patron saint of emotional devastation), this short, ferocious monologue has been quietly wrecking audiences ever since. Back in a new revival by LAMDA-grad Conor Craig-Stephens, it’s a reminder that sometimes the simplest stories – a man and a memory he can’t outrun – are the ones that leave you drowning.
At the heart of Sea Wall is Alex, a man whose life appears perfect, with a loving wife, a young daughter, a city he adores, and a fulfilling job. But a tragic accident on the beach during a family holiday to the South of France, one that occurs in a fleeting moment, fractures this seemingly secure world. As Alex grapples with the aftermath, he is forced to confront the unbearable truth that the things he took for granted – his family, his life, his sense of safety – can all be taken in an instant. Craig-Stephens portrays this grief with layers of anger, speechlessness, hatred, sadness, and piercing moments of silence, where even the slurp from your audience neighbour rings out across the space. In these quiet, charged moments, we are drawn deeper into Alex’s world, feeling the full weight of his loss in every word he speaks.
Dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, with a bottle of Evian at his feet, Craig-Stephens shapes the heartache of a grieving father with nothing but his voice and the power of memory. The Old Red Lion Theatre’s black box is left unadorned; a grieving man framed by nothing but black space and warm yellow light. This quiet staging works wonders to emphasise the tragic heartache of this intimate retelling.
Craig-Stephens delivers a solid performance that captures the weight of Alex’s sorrow. Largely, he knows how to work the space, especially when Alex retreats to the back wall, physically distancing himself from his own pain. At times, he has a natural, unpolished quality in his delivery, with a few stumbles over words that, rather than detracting from the performance, make it feel even more grounded and real.
On occasion, the transitions between temporal shifts in the text don’t flow as smoothly as they could, feeling a little jolty, which briefly pulls you out of the monologue and back into the theatre. In those moments, the performance shifts from feeling like an intimate portrayal of grief to reminding you that you’re watching an actor. That said, when he speaks directly to the audience or settles into those piercing moments of stillness, his performance shines. While he makes good use of the small stage, a deeper contrast in light and shadow – perhaps a retreat into darkness in the more sorrowful moments – might add emotional weight. Still, his honest, understated approach creates an aching sense of intimacy that is undeniably effective.
This is a good performance, offering a solid service to the original text. While I didn’t see Andrew Scott’s original, Craig-Stephens delivers a portrayal that stands strong on its own. If you haven’t seen it before, this revival is worth experiencing: it’ll linger with you long after you leave the theatre.
Written by: Simon Stephens
Sea Wall plays at Old Red Lion Theatre until Saturday 8 March.