Review: Mass, Donmar Warehouse

There are few things that theatre does better than forcing people to sit still with their grief. Strip away spectacle and what you’re left with is language: raw and often painfully human. In Fran Kranz’s Mass, that stillness becomes both its greatest strength and, at times, its undoing.

Centred on two sets of parents, Linda (Monica Dulan) and Richard (Paul Hilton) versus Jay (Adeel Akhtar) and Gail (Lyndsey Marshal), meeting years after a shared tragedy involving a mass shooting, the play unfolds almost entirely around a table; one that slowly rotates, subtly shifting our perspective as the emotional ground beneath the characters moves far more violently, thanks to Anna Yates’ impeccable design. It’s an elegant choice, allowing you to fall into each person’s emotional journey as they take turns being the one to face you while others’ intentions become obfuscated. With a full episcopal church lounge depicted just behind the table, there’s a sense you’re eavesdropping in on a private conversation.

And what a conversation it is, thanks to the performances. The four actors bring an impeccable level of control and vulnerability, navigating dialogue that swings between tentative politeness and devastating honesty. Though all four deliver, special shoutouts must be given to Dulan, who breaks your heart from the moment she steps on stage with shaky hands giving a gift, and Akhtar, who never lets the seated nature of the play get in the way of giving a riveting, full-bodied performance. There’s a carefulness to the way information is revealed, each line landing with deliberate weight. When the play leans into its essence of four people grappling with something unspeakable, it becomes deeply moving, even suffocating in its intimacy.

Yet for all its emotional precision, Mass struggles with pacing, particularly in moments where repetition begins to dull rather than deepen the impact. The play is bookended by characters outside of this main four, and although their presence is necessary to lighten the tension of the drama, it also feels somewhat disconnected from the central narrative and emotional spine. It’s also of note that the play, an adaptation of the 2021 film of the same name, is about a deeply American cultural issue, yet is receiving its world premiere in England. While this in itself isn’t a negative, as an American myself I did question if the British weren’t always Kranz’s intended audience, and whether this softens the full impact of the play’s great tragedy.

Still, it’s difficult to dismiss a production so anchored in sincerity. Mass is not without its flaws, but its commitment to exploring grief, accountability, and the fragile possibility of understanding makes it a compelling, if occasionally uneven, piece of theatre. Despite the weighty conversations surrounding an all-too-real kind of tragedy, I left the theatre light on my feet, believing in the power of conversation and restorative justice, and what a beautiful message for a story to have.

Written by Fran Kranz
Directed by Carrie Cracknell
Design by Anna Yates
Lighting Design by Guy Hoare
Sound Design by Donato Wharton
Composed by Katrina Rose

Mass plays at the Donmar Warehouse until Saturday 6 June.