He is an astronaut with the European Space Commission, while she works with a documentary film-maker. Both have emerged from deeply dysfunctional childhoods. At one point, we are given a catalogue of the cruelties he has endured since youth. She, meanwhile, has been shaped and manipulated by her father, a horror film director who cast her as a child actress. Given the backgrounds of these two characters, this is not a love story likely to end well, and its dark trajectory is signalled from the outset. We first meet Daniel Defoe on his space mission, his actions framed by a chorus who also comment on the couple’s later interactions. However, because the narrative is structured in this way, and because the conclusion is never in doubt, it becomes difficult to invest fully in the relationship. The process of falling in love also feels only lightly sketched in, as though of secondary importance. Instead, the drama centres on the pair’s fierce and often exhausting arguments. Emily unleashes relentless torrents of abuse, while Daniel responds by adding fresh entries to his litany of past suffering. The emotional intensity is undeniable, though at times it risks becoming repetitive. The musical highlight of the show is the song “Build Me”, which provides a more reflective interlude and an intriguing insight into how individuals construct idealised versions of their partners. It is intelligent and engaging, yet the characters who arrive at this insight later seem overwhelmed by their troubled upbringings and an over-reliance on pop psychology. Their genuine complexity and capacity for meaningful interaction are flattened by an almost compulsive need to filter everything through past trauma. That said, the cast is consistently strong. Stuart Thompson conveys Daniel’s vulnerability with quiet conviction, capturing his fragility without lapsing into sentimentality. Poppy Gilbert, by contrast, is chillingly effective as Emily, her volatility rendered with a ferocity that is both compelling and deeply unsettling. A particular strength is Libby Todd’s set design, which makes imaginative and expressive use of the stage. The space shifts fluidly between the vast isolation of the astronaut’s mission and the claustrophobic intensity of the couple’s relationship. Clean lines and carefully judged transitions create a sense of emotional as well as physical confinement, reinforcing the play’s central tensions without ever overwhelming the performers. In the end, the production is arresting in its intensity, even if its emotional trajectory feels somewhat predetermined. It offers a bleak yet absorbing study of a relationship shaped by damage and misunderstanding, leaving a lingering impression of how difficult it can be to escape the patterns that define us.
Rated: ★★★
Reviewed by J.C.
Photo by Alex Brenner
When, Where, Getting there:
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