Adapting Kazuo Ishiguro’s much celebrated 2005 novel to the stage – in all its dark subtlety and theme ridden dystopic drama – was no doubt a considerable challenge. However, the direction of Rose Theatre, London’s Christopher Haydon along with the robust anchors of Killing Eve screenwriter Suzanne Heathcote and an excellent central performance by Nell Barlow, make this a successful adaptation of a well-loved source material.
The play separated mainly into three separate time periods (each briefly illuminated briefly above the set), we first meet Barlow’s Kathy in 1998. She is introduced as a ‘carer’ who is attending to the needs of patient Philip. Her mentioning that she once attended Hailsham, a boarding school with an air of intrigue, elicits an inquisitive response in Philip and, thus, we flash back to Kathy’s memories of her time there. These recollections are centred around her two close friends Ruth and Tommy and their early life realisation (and even for those not familiar with the novel or film, it’s revealed here way too early to be in spoiler terrain) that theirs was an overdetermined fate: They were created as clones, living a short life before donating their organs to their ‘possibles’, ‘others’ or ‘originals.’
In keeping its faith tied more to Ishiguro’s book, rather than the 2010 film version starring Carey Mulligan and Keira Knightly, the play employs a non-linear narrative, shifting back and forward between the present day and the years at Hailsham; these changes are neatly reflected in changes to Josh Carr’s lighting design and there’s an effective transition device in that anticipatory dialogue delivered at the end of a scene serves as the opening to the next. An idea floating free of both the novel and film, the 1998 version of Kathy relaying her memories of Hailsham to patient Phillip is a framing device that works well, giving a natural outlet for Kathy to divulge her narrative.
The formative years at Hailsham are imbued with making sense of their existence, the periodical ‘exchanges’ where students get to purchase items from the outside world and a mysterious gallery wherein the children’s artworks are taken off somewhere for display. The three friends also navigate a love triangle of sorts; the seemingly natural and enduring affection between Kathy and Tommy takes a backseat when Ruth sleeps with Tommy and they start a relationship. After Hailsham, the characters move on to life on the outside (marked here as ‘Part 2 – The Cottages, 1983’) and we later focus on Ruth’s life as a carer (‘Part 3 – 1992’). As the characters drift apart and reconnect, something called a ‘deferral’ could offer a temporary salvation from their plight, and Tommy offers up a related theory as to the significance of the art gallery.
Rather than holding the audience in suspense of its resolution (it’s likely that many of the audience are already familiar with the story), the success of this adaptation lies in a robust performance that faithfully evokes Ishiguro’s themes; the character’s complicity with their plight represents an all to easy acquiescence to unfair societal and political ideas. There are also questions of identity, our purpose in the world and the ethics of eating meat. The obvious themes of the transience of life and the inevitability of loss are acutely sharpened up in the context of the character’s claustrophobically short lives; we’re not much different – time is short, even without the displeasure of bring harvested for our organs, and that should be a call to arms to love each other and appreciate what matters in our lives.
Of course, all the above would struggle to register without a strong central performance. Barlow’s Kathy is both sensitive and sympathetic, and she captures brilliantly a heartwarming, though ultimately futile optimism in the face of a hopeless fate. Also, the economy of Tom Piper’s non-imposing set design allows the drama to breath; consisting of five blond wood double doors and frosted glass atop them, it melds well with Carr’s lighting to evoke the four locations of Hailsham, donation clinic, beach and town.
Having enjoyed both the novel and the film version of Never Let Me Go, this stage adaptation has met its considerable challenge, and makes for an enjoyable and captivating evening out. Make the most of your short existence and go see it.
Never Let Me Go runs at Bristol Old Vic until Saturday 23rd November – see here for more details
Scott Hammond
Photographs by (Hugo Glendinning)
