Review: Small Island at the National Theatre

Evie Robinson reviews Small Island, a National Theatre production exploring the experiences of the Windrush generation.

Photographed by Jonah Persson

First premiering back in March 2019, Rufus Norris’ National Theatre production of Small Island reopened its doors on Thursday 3rd March. What audiences received was a revelation.

The play, adapted by Helen Edmundson and based on the 2004 novel by Andrea Levy, follows the stories of four main characters - Hortense, Queenie, Gilbert and Bernard. Jumping between the present day of 1948, the events of World War II, and other biographical landmarks in each of their lives, we are given a glimpse at what has brought them to this particular moment, and caused their lives to intersect. Hortense (Leonie Elliott), a strong-minded and well-mannered Jamaican woman, leaves for England in the hope of becoming a teacher. She joins Gilbert (Leemore Marrett Jr), a lovable and clumsy man, who also leaves Jamaica in search of prosperity in England, intent on studying the law. Queenie (Mirren Mack) leaves her family farm in Lincolnshire for London, in all its possibilities, where she marries Bernard (Martin Hutson), a white English banker, before he leaves to join the war effort. Whilst Hortense and Gilbert’s story primarily focuses on their journey to England and the racism they encounter once there, Queenie navigates wartime life alone in London. 

As the second act moved to more of a focus on post-war life in London, with Hortense arriving shortly after Gilbert, there was a sense of shifting, not only to reflect the passage of time, but also the mood. The brutality of racism in England became a much greater focus. Not only are the characters subject to overt racism, in the form of aggressive slurs and physical harassment, but they encounter casual racism and microaggressions from neighbours, colleagues and even strangers in the streets. The realities of immigrant life, and the shattering of such ideals about the lure of England, became increasingly difficult to watch. Many such moments had the audience holding their breath and being stunned to silence. 

Small Island captivates in its brilliant ability to combine outrageously funny moments with brutal heart-wrenching acts and iterations of racism, a testament to both the clever writing of Andrea Levy and Helen Edmundson, and the actors’ execution of such complex characters. Leemore Marrett Jr was particularly charming in his portrayal of Gilbert Joseph, interweaving his many comical lines with poignant speeches about facing racism as a Caribbean immigrant in London. 

Set across two locations, the production was beautifully lit by Paul Anderson, using two key modes of lighting to indicate clear changes in geographical setting. Jamaica, where Hortense and Gilbert come of age, was lit in warm yellows and oranges, reflecting not only the sunny weather and hot climate, but the sense of community bursting from each of the scenes that take place there. By contrast, scenes set in London were lit harshly, in cold tones of white, grey and blue. In the wake of the war, this London felt alien, uninviting, almost sterile. It powerfully reflected the idea that, for Levy’s characters, London feels far from home both in terms of the distance and the dreams they once harboured about England as a place of hope. 

Language also emerged as a recurring theme within the play, often seen as a barrier that forces communities to co-exist rather than come together. Not only was the Jamaican dialect often employed as a factor in racist attacks and discourses against Gilbert and Hortense, language also complicated other relationships. Queenie dedicates much of her time to being the primary care-giver for her father-in-law, Arthur, whose experience of PTSD after serving in World War I renders him unable to speak. Arthur’s storyline brings into focus the aftermath of war, his experiences also haunting many other characters. And racism is woven into this theme too, with the hostility and lack of recognition faced by Black soldiers, despite serving in the same troops and trenches as their white counterparts. Gilbert is promised a wealth of opportunities within the Royal Air Force, including operator and analyst jobs, only to end up shoveling coal alongside a group of fellow Black recruits.

Katrina Lindsay’s mesmerising set design is undoubtedly worthy of note. The action primarily unfolded around a revolving circle in the centre of the stage. In the second act, this was cleverly used to move between the two rooms inhabited by Queenie and Gilbert, reflecting the fact that these were separate rooms, but part of the same house owned by Queenie, who encounters frequent disapproval of her willingness to house Black tenants. The production also employed a large doorway at the back of the stage, which would open and close to both move sets and, with symbolic significance, signify when characters made their entrances and exits from the lives of those close to them. Film recurring as a prominent theme in the play, the cinema set-design was especially clever. During a scene in which Black customers were made to sit separately at the back of the cinema, the cast sat watching the film with their backs to the audience, as if we were watching the film with them. Only the cinema staff member faced us directly; the altercation was made to feel even more cruel and impersonal. Perhaps the most moving aspect of the play was the moment in which Jamaican residents board Empire Windrush. A large piece of cloth was brought forward by two actors to symbolise the sail of a ship. The stage was then lit to show only the silhouettes of those boarding the ship. At the close of the first act, all we glimpsed were the shadows of those departing, with Hortense left alone on stage, waving at Gilbert and calling out desperately for him to send for her. 

Shocking, unnerving and incredibly captivating, Small Island is a powerful portrait of post-war London and the experiences of the Windrush generation. A stellar production in all aspects, it is one that is sure to change you for the better. 

Small Island is running at the National Theatre until 20 April 2022.