Darkness

It’s Ascension Day, and a reverent family of Welsh lumberjacks await the apocalypse. Their vigil is interrupted by two arrivals: one, a lost son, the other, an immigrant and atheist. With Darkness, Fringe First winner Jonathan Lichtenstein explores religious fundamentalism, asking why God always seems to demand we sacrifice our family.

Lichtenstein intelligently synthesises Bible stories and wrenching family drama. He mostly resists didacticism, keeping the focus on Earthly matters and Earthly consequences. The proclamations and chainsaw-swinging testosterone are undercut by bathetic humour: apocalyptic prophecies interrupted by arguments about crisps and eBay.

The cast are assured. They all have to shout an awful lot, and quote a fair amount of scripture, but you believe they are a family. This authenticity is vital, making you realise this isn’t about religion so much as how people wield it over others. David Tarkenter deserves particular praise as the patriarch and would-be prophet, but each actor brings their own, unspoken stories to their characters.

Indeed, Darkness is at its best when dealing with the unseen and unsaid. Some of its more on-the-nose elements rankle. The returning, bearded son could do with looking less messianic and initially, Yann the Muslim immigrant doesn’t register properly, partly due to an unconvincing accent. The play's programme listing also includes misleading references to George W Bush, an example of mission creep that the play doesn’t need and can’t support.

But these are minor complaints. Overall, this is a disturbing examination of the sins of a father, and how he inflicts them on his sons.