Missing ****

Tristan Bates Theatre, London

****

"The wonderfully credible relationship built up between the brothers has something quite uniquely special about it: subtlety."

I found Barney Norris’s play Missing, performed at The Tristan Bates Theatre, wonderfully exhilarating. Not because there isn’t room for improvement, but because the piece showed such promising potential and talent. The wonderfully credible relationship built up between the brothers has something quite uniquely special about it: subtlety. The writing is surprisingly sophisticated for such a young writer on his second play: there is no sense at all that the dialogue is working for our attention or that there is any need to manually incorporate excitements into the piece to fulfil our expectations of progression. The delicately astute dialogue retains our interest throughout, with much thanks to the superb direction of Alice Hamilton and the spotlessly convincing execution of the parts by Rob Heaps (Luke) and, especially, Joe Robertson (Andy). With such a play, every side needs to really hold its own for it to be carried off and it is a real relief that all do so with such consummate skill. The simplicity of the subject – that big brother off to university affects the abandoned little one, who seeks army life for solace – has such obvious credence and potency that one wonders why theatre ever feels the need to touch on the extraordinary, when the ordinary can be so fascinating. There are some minor confusing issues with time difference, plus limitations integral to the small cast and the one bedroom location, but with more work on structure and some thorough development of the comedic touches, the Norris-Hamilton partnership can only go bigger and better from here on in. What is so refreshing is that, though the cast and crew have started small, they have totally dominated it.