The Guilty

I love this show for so many reasons, which is actually quite surprising because I’m often left a little underwhelmed by one-person productions. Even reading the synopsis beforehand, it sounds as though it could simply be a ‘day in the life’ drama. I haven’t seen the Danish film that the play is adapted from, so I can’t compare the two, but I’m fairly certain many of the theatrical moments have been created specifically for the stage. Seeing it in London also added another layer, with many of the references feeling familiar and local, making the whole experience even more engaging.

Written by Chloë Moss and directed by Felix Barrett, this adaptation strips everything back to focus almost entirely on one man and the callers he hears. Russell Tovey takes on the role of Joe, a police officer working in emergency call handling after being removed from active duty pending an investigation. It sounds like a simple premise, but it quickly becomes anything but.

The office is designed exactly as you would imagine a tired government workspace. Alex Eales’ set is full of little details that make it feel lived in: rain stains spreading across the ceiling tiles, a forgotten water cooler, and a dead plant abandoned on top of a filing cabinet. It immediately establishes the mundane environment that Joe inhabits every day.

There were a couple of design choices that left me scratching my head, though. Some of the desks were covered in what looked like polythene decorating sheets. It almost gave the room a Dexter-style crime scene appearance, yet the covering was never acknowledged or explained. Perhaps they were meant to be dust sheets in an ageing office, but it felt like there was a story missing. Likewise, the lockers contained internal lights. While visually intriguing, they slightly distracted from the otherwise grounded realism of the production. They didn’t seem to serve any dramatic purpose and, if anything, pulled me out of the world that had otherwise been created so convincingly.

One thing I particularly admired was how quickly the production gets going. There is no gradual warm-up, either in the script or in Tovey’s performance. Before the house lights have fully settled, Joe already exists in this world. It feels as though we’ve simply walked into the middle of his working day rather than watching the beginning of a play.

For much of its hour-long running time, the production remains firmly rooted in realism. Anna Watson’s lighting only becomes more expressionistic during the phone calls, helping to heighten the tension without overwhelming the story. Gareth Fry’s sound design is equally impressive, allowing us to hear an entire world of unseen characters while never losing sight of the man sitting alone behind the desk.

Russell Tovey delivers an incredibly nuanced performance. Joe could easily have become either an action hero or a broken stereotype, but Tovey finds something much more human. He portrays the character with empathy, sensitivity and quiet vulnerability. By the end, it genuinely feels as though we’ve spent an hour with someone we know personally, or at the very least someone we’ve all met at some point.

Throughout the play, Joe deals with an endless stream of callers, ranging from timewasters to life-or-death emergencies. Watching how his responses subtly shift depending on the situation is fascinating. Sometimes he’s patient, sometimes frustrated, sometimes emotionally exhausted, but every reaction feels authentic. The balance between humour and tension is exceptionally well judged. One moment the audience is laughing at the absurdity of a call, and the next the theatre is completely silent as a situation takes a darker turn.

What impressed me most is how much the play has to say about empathy, judgement and the pressures many people, particularly men, feel when trying to balance work, family and their own emotional wellbeing. Without ever becoming preachy, it explores how easy it is to make assumptions about people based on limited information and how damaging those assumptions can be.

Running at just over an hour, The Guilty never outstays its welcome. Every minute feels purposeful, and the pace never lets up. It’s gripping, funny, tense and surprisingly moving. Despite its simple premise, it becomes a thoughtful examination of the human condition, reminding us that everyone has a story we can’t immediately see.

This is one of those productions that proves you don’t need elaborate spectacle to hold an audience’s attention. With an outstanding central performance from Russell Tovey and a creative team that knows exactly when to step back and let the story breathe, The Guilty is a compelling piece of theatre that stayed with me long after I left the auditorium.

*****

Photo Credit: Helen Murray