Review: Daughter, Lion and Unicorn Theatre

I first saw Adam Lazarus’ Daughter in 2020 at Battersea Arts Centre. It was a shocking play that has stayed with me ever since. Which means approaching Little Lion Theatre’s production was done wondering if it’s possible to replicate that experience, and how the intimacy of the Lion and Unicorn Theatre would alter its power.

Cristiano Benfenati takes on Lazarus’ role of the doting father. Like many new parents, he’s a little scared about fatherhood, especially as his first child is a daughter and daughters need extra protection. But just so long as he tries his best, surely that’s all any father can do? He’s extremely likeable from the start, showing us the silly dance his daughter has taught him. It’s his likeability that makes it all the more disconcerting when he starts to talk about the less savoury things he has done, asking us on more than one occasion “Are you OK with that?” The first few times we find ourselves half agreeing, because he’s a nice guy. Soon though, it’s clear we are not OK with that, except it’s too late to now call out his toxic behaviour. As his story becomes more extreme, we start to squirm in our seats, embarrassed by having encouraged him with our laughter.

The power of Lazarus’ script is undeniable; there’s a reason this show has endured for a decade. But such a shocking play needs to be handled carefully, with sensitivity and care, especially in a venue as intimate as this. Thankfully, it’s clear Little Lion Theatre realise that, bringing in Liz Kent as Intimacy Director, even though it is a solo performance. Except it isn’t, because the audience are the other party in this, and we need protecting as much as Benfenati.

Director Alexandra Rizkallah has stayed, in the most part, extremely loyal to the original, but truthfully, why change a script that still has so much to say about toxic masculinity and why silence is complicity? The added intimacy of the venue then grants room to push it further. Benfenati is a whole lot closer to us for a start, and they play with that superbly; an early bout of high fiving the front row adds to that feeling that this dad is a fun guy who we surely want to share a drink with. Later on, there is simply no hiding; as he asks us to agree with him, he stares directly at individuals, leaving nowhere to look but right back in his eyes, making it impossible to tell him no.

Daughter is a brave play to put on, one not to be approached lightly, for creatives or audience. Such shocking theatre is about driving the conversation, holding a mirror up to us to look at our lack of action; why don’t we call out toxic behaviour, why do we allow men such as Andrew Tate be the loudest voice for our young men? Little Lion Theatre’s bravery in taking that risk is clear, doing justice to an incredible piece of writing and making the audience squirm in their seats as we realise just what type of person we were laughing with merely an hour ago.

Perhaps the most shocking thing is that the second viewing is more disturbing than the first. Knowing at the start where things are heading left me unable to laugh or nod along with the character’s playfulness, and yet I sat quietly and still allowed it to happen. Does that make me as guilty as him for not speaking up: am I complicit in my silence?

Written by Adam Lazarus
Directed by Alexandra Rizkallah
Produced by Kay Brattan for Little Lion Theatre
Movement Director: Sasha Tzu-Yin Hsu
Intimacy Director: Liz Kent
Sound Design by Richard Feren

Daughter plays at Lion and Unicorn Theatre until Saturday 7 February.