At first glance, Ben Ockrent’s family drama Relics has it all. There’s the starry cast (Sally Phillips! Charly Clive!), and big name director Michael Longhurst. Even Joanna Scotcher’s richly layered set, slowly revealed as a screen lifts to show off the deep wood panels and sentimental knick knacks of a beloved home where secrets lie, offers a sense of intricately selected prestige.
Yet before the action even kicks off, a more accurate indicator of what’s to come sits in plain sight. Said screen is embellished with giant pieces of packing tape, bearing the not-so-delicate message: ‘FRAGILE’. You see, for a play about four adult siblings coming together to divvy up their late mother’s possessions beneath a cloud of grief (which later attempts to reckon with huge philosophical ideas around profiting from evil of the past), Relics is remarkably low on subtlety.
At times, the show is pure farce. There are Mr Bean-esque physical comedy set pieces, and some of them, particularly early in the play, are tightly choreographed and slick. But as the bigger ideas are introduced, a tonal mishmash emerges that leaves the cast struggling to mine comedy or tragedy successfully. The former becomes sloppy, and those loudly proclaimed deeper moments fail to find the nuance clearly being aimed for.
To their credit, the cast of four try their best with the material. You can feel the effort being put in from all four leads. Yet from their movements to their clothes, the siblings are broad archetypes, the kind of which it's hard to imbue with any real depth. Michelle (Clive) is the baby of the family, dressed in baggy denim and Crocs. Rob (Sam Swainsbury) is the next eldest; he’s wearing plaid and Converse, signalling himself as the practical one, the self-appointed peacekeeper of the group. Jonny (a preening JJ Feild) is the eldest boy, the distant and business-focused brother in a gilet and too tight trousers. And then there’s the marty-esque and sensibly dressed Olivia (Phillips), who sacrificed everything to look after her mother late in life and now is desperate to retain a sense of control over her younger siblings.
The family bicker like children as they come together to lay claim to their parents’ items, leaving Olivia on the constant brink of tears. For the most part, however, it’s surface-level squabbling, the kind many siblings will nod and recognise. But then Jonny casually mentions wanting an unassuming painting he’s always disliked, and Michelle’s head snaps up. His cynical sister knows there must be a reason he wants this piece of artwork. After much insistence otherwise from Jonny, the truth comes out. The painting has potentially significant value – and a dark, dark past that leaves the children divided.
This revelation arrives towards the end of the first act, teeing up a second half where these big ethical quandaries should be woven throughout with a deft touch. After all, the question posed is an interesting one: are we responsible for our families’ problematic pasts? And should we give up life-changing financial opportunities on moral bases, knowing doing so will have no real world impact?
Instead, the production tries to do both in tandem – big idea thinking and slapstick comedy – and swiftly goes off the rails. There are extended song and dance routines and a slow motion dance-cum-fight scene set (both set to ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’), the latter of which feels particularly messy compared to the earlier moments of physical comedy.
These bewildering scenes are stretched far too long, the abstract concepts getting so lost in the process that I emerged unsure what I was watching and whether it was still Relics at all. An attempt at philosophical payoff comes straight after in the final scene. It’s not not an emotional moment, yet feels unearned.
I had high hopes for Relics; it’s Sally Phillips, how could I not? But I left hoping to see her shine in another production in the near future, and with the feeling that Relics might be better left relegated to the past.
