More Life by Lauren Mooney and James Yeatman - ★★★★☆
The groundbreaking technologies of life-preserving science are at the heart of More Life, a play by Lauren Mooney and James Yeatman — co-runners of award-winning theatre company Kandinsky. They propel us into the year 2075 in this sophisticated, thought-provoking, and brilliantly original sci-fi production.
Meet Bridget. She died in 2025, struck by a self-driving car while crossing the road. After her death, her husband, Harry, gave vague consent for her to be used in clinical testing —experiments that, as it turns out, have led to her being brought back to life through a series of technological advancements. Now, in 2075, Bridget wakes up in a body that is not her own.
The cosy Jerwood Theatre sets the stage, its walls lined with orange cubes. Five slender wooden chairs are arranged across the space, each accompanied by a white microphone. Towards the back, a stark white lab door is tucked away. Meanwhile, the stage is bathed in soft white lights, creating an atmosphere that makes us feel as if we, too, might be part of the testing.
The play opens at a measured pace, with the ensemble reciting the tale of George Foster, a dead prisoner, and great physicist Signor Aldini, who appears to be on the brink of a revival attempt using electric currents as his medium. Just as the tension builds, the scene shifts to the lab.
The lab is run by lead scientist Vic (Marc Elliot) and junior scientist Mike (Lewis Mackinnon), whom we observe as they struggle to transfer the consciousness of deceased individuals into a host (Alison Halstead). Each consciousness is voiced by a different ensemble member through sterile white microphones, while Halstead skillfully mimes, shifting from boisterous northern men to poised elderly figures in a clever and humorous round of testing, some attempts more successful than others. As hope begins to fade, Bridget, also known as B389-6, is transferred into the host. This time, she passes the test - or, close enough.
On a minimal yet impactful set, the ensemble serves as narrators, building the world with their voices. In 2075, is London underwater? Or, are there flying cars? Perhaps in the future London is a walkable city? A humorous scene emerges, as small squabbles spark within the group, each having a different vision for the future, but it also serves as food for thought. When you imagine the future, what does it look like?
As the play unfolds, we’re drawn into a fascinating world where the ethics and complexities of such a procedure play out before the audience, raising questions and prompting introspection both during the performance and long after. Bridget enters the real world under dubious circumstances and stays with her now 80-year-old husband, Harry (Tim McMullan), and his new, suspiciously youthful wife, Davina (Helen Schlesinger), a terrific and hilarious duo. McMullan’s portrayal of the bumbling, comically slow, and perhaps slightly self-absorbed Harry is complimented by Schlesinger’s, who is simply brilliant as Davina.
There are several ways in which More Life reinforces its brilliance. Composer and co-sound designer Zac Gvi and lighting designer Ryan Joseph Stafford have crafted a thoughtful and impressive sound and lightscape. Atmospheric melodies range from ethereal hums to romantic, period-like pieces. While the lighting has a lab-like quality, it never feels sterile; warm hues of orange and red create a more inviting atmosphere. As questions of ethics and morality swirl around the room, we are left asking ourselves: What is it that makes us human?
The staging is creative, and the group narration works seamlessly. We appreciate that the future is not presented in a wholly prescriptive way; instead, we are invited to imagine it, supported by the voices of the ensemble. The cast is brilliant, effortlessly switching roles and adopting disembodied voices. Whatever persona they take on, they do so with ease. Alison Halstead gives a commendable performance as Bridget, embodying, in theory, a consciousness in a body that cannot cry or sleep. Yet, we perceive a fully sentient being, one deserving of empathy and dignity.
More Life is not water tight, the play takes a little while to find its rhythm, and at times the script could be tighter. However, these minor challenges do not detract from the overall impact and should it transfer to a larger stage for a longer run, as we hope it does, we’re excited for its evolution.
More Life is a brilliantly crafted, stimulating production that challenges audiences to consider concepts of personal identity, humanity, and the meaning of life. While it effortlessly elicits laughter, it also captivates with its originality and depth, and it leaves you wondering: is immortality truly worth the cost?
By Shore Delano
More Life is showing at the Royal Court until 08 March
★★★★☆