Review: SKELETON CREW, Donmar Warehouse

It takes its time to warm up. But when this American four-hander stretches its dramatic muscles a pummelling emotional workout results - one not to be missed.

We are in the break room of a car factory in Detroit. Plastic chairs huddle around plastic tables. A worn sofa slumped by the wall. The Donmar’s back brick wall is splashed in cold industrial light, pipes and steel are a web sprawling upwards. Four factory workers are trapped within it, caught between self-preservation in an unforgiving world and duty to each other. Their humanity is stretched between the two.

Veteran labourer Faye is surrogate mother to the rest of the crew. When whispers of the factory’s closure send ripples through their community, they turn to her for guidance. On the other end of the age spectrum are Dez and pregnant Shanita, her quiet optimism for a new and better life for her child shines through his clouds of paranoia. Is he selfish, foolish, or just doing what he needs to survive when he smuggles a gun into his work locker?

This is a microcosm of modern America – or at least that’s what writer Dominique Morisseau is suggesting. Her multi-award winning play premiered in 2016 as the US was about to descend into the Trumpian age. Eight years later another election looms – have we come full circle or has anything changed at all?

At times it can feel heavier than it is. But don’t be fooled by the lack of set piece fireworks. Director Matthew Xia’s production works diligently to earn our trust wielding Morisseau’s anxiety-tinged language like boxing gloves. Like any good fighter it is biding its time to strike with gorgeously organic performances.

You can’t pick out a standout. Each of the four are icebergs, only the tips of their personalities protrude, profound depth lies underneath, hinted at in the smallest gestures: Pamela Nomvete’s Faye flicks her furrowed brow when she detects threat. Branden Cook’s eyes dart up and down searching for solace when confronted by Tobi Bamtefa’s Reggie, the factory foreman trapped in the chain of hierarchy, beholden to unseen managers but compelled to the comradeship of those at the bottom of the food chain. His anger bubbles just perceptibly beneath the surface of his performance. A timebomb waiting to explode.

Us critics habitually label one person shows as “masterclasses in acting” yada yada yada. Then this must be a masterclass in ensemble, with Xia, shaman-like, challenging the dramatic flow in and around his actors - and through the Donmar – the perfect space for a play that teeters between cosiness and claustrophobia.

Skeleton Crew plays at The Donmar Warehouse until 24 August

Photo Credit: Helen Murray

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