Inspired, or rather provoked, by the 2011 Fukushima earthquake and tsunami events, Lucy Kirkwood’s multi award-winning The Children (first performed ‘in development’ at the Royal Court’s Jerwood theatre in November 2016) plays with the idea of ‘nuclear families’.  

All three of the play’s characters are retired nuclear scientists who worked together in their twenties – 38-plus years ago – at a nuclear power plant they’d had a hand in creating, on England’s East coast.

Now the married couple, Hazel (Carmel McGlone) and Robin (Peter Hambleton), who have four adult children and five grandchildren, live in a small cottage on the same remote coast. And Rose (Catherine Downs), who lives alone without even a cat and has worked a lot in the USA, has turned up unexpectedly, surprising Hazel.

While Robin is off tending the stock on their small organic farm at the edge of the ‘exclusion zone’, near the ex-family home the couple has had to abandon, Rose’s main line of enquiry with Hazel is their children and grandchildren. Is she just being polite or is there a more urgent purpose to this focus?

Kirkwood’s play operates on a classic slow reveal structure, touching on the past four decades, mostly for Rose’s benefit, and on what has happened more recently, which all three are aware of but are circumspect about discussing. So we are drip-fed the details – and because our desire to know is what draws us in, I am not about to reveal much more than I have already.

Intriguingly there are no heroes here: all three are flawed in a very real way – and each actor nails every element with undemonstrative accuracy which generates plenty of humour.

Rose is obviously hiding things, both about the past and her reason for returning. Hazel is constantly busy preparing a meal that’s very simple, given they’re in the midst of a power cut, and her impulse when stressed is to talk too much.

When Robin turns up his bit-of-a-joker behaviour patterns start to wear thin as they verge on casual put-downs of Hazel. But they seem to fit each other like old slippers and are comfy enough with the repartee. And Hazel turns out to have a very clear idea about why he is overdoing it a bit on this occasion.

Their oldest daughter, Lauren, keeps popping up in conversation. Given her particular story, the fact that the play is called The Children plural, and what the future may entail for both younger generations, I would have liked to know more about the others. 

When at last Rose’s reason for tracking them down is revealed, the underlying theme of responsibility comes to the fore. While the concept of ‘responsibility’ has become freighted with ideas of blame, duty and obligation, it literally means the ability to respond. And in this context, the notion of power also resonates. All these elements subtly generate the dramatic flow.

It’s not all a talk-fest. There are some quite stark images – of oozing substances, shall we say – that meaningfully punctuate the talk. There is a crazy party-dance then some beautifully rendered yoga to counterpoint the intensifying drama. Just as the play’s true substance becomes slowly apparent, so too does each character reveal more than initially meets the eye.

There are some odd things about John Hodgkins’ country cottage kitchen set which make perfect sense as the situation unfolds. Marcus McShane’s lighting design cleverly differentiates the outside and inside glows as the daylight fades, although I do notice the few candles seem to throw a lot of light and can’t help wondering how much more intimate the play might feel if it was less bright for longer.  

Sheila Horton’s costume designs are as eloquently ordinary as the characters. Oliver Devlin’s sound design, which most potently book-ends the play’s unbroken 105 minutes, established and recalls the catastrophic event that underpins the action that follows – the fallout, let’s say.

Astutely directed by Susan Wilson, The Children is not ‘event’ theatre designed to thrill us throughout its execution. It is a well-wrought play that compels our attention by raising questions we want answered and that leaves us with plenty to ponder concerning personal, collective and global responsibility – and power. 

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