Review: The Book of Grace at Arcola Theatre

Monday, 20th May 2024 at Arcola Theatre, London

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Reviewer: Emma Dorfman

When it comes to American playwrights, Suzan-Lori Parks is a pretty big fish. And across the pond, she certainly made a splash with the 2021 European premiere of her naturalistic dramedy, White Noise, at the Bridge Theatre. This time, one of her lesser-known works – certainly compared to her Pulitzer-prize winning Topdog/Underdog or her critically acclaimed In the Blood – has made its way to the Arcola’s mainstage. 

Whilst Parks is known as one of the ‘Children of Brecht,’ this revival of The Book of Grace (first staged in 2010) is perhaps farther from her usual work, which is often chock-full of raw, unedited language, written in the precise vernacular of her characters. It’s also full of completely abstracted symbols, bringing to light larger societal issues and woes in the characters’ world.

In The Book of Grace, however, the characters speak, at times, almost as if they were in a Tennessee Williams play. The symbols within the text are simpler here and more digestible, and the piece as a whole is much more akin to a Sam Shepard ‘kitchen sink drama’. Despite any eccentricities or ruffles in the text, the piece’s superb direction elevates the haunting grittiness inherent in Parks’ script and a stellar ensemble cast, too, rises to the drama when the piece requires it.

They say that what lingers from a production – even years after you have seen it – is not a stellar line or piece of text, but rather, a great image. As a director, Femi Elufowoju is masterful in conjuring dark images that are sure to linger. In the piece’s opening moment, Vet (Peter De Jersey) is digging a hole in his yard– a rectangular trap door, about 6ft x 2 ft downstage left, opens up to enhance the illusion. We hear the gentle sound of the rain, and just as soon as its pitter patter fades up, a trickle of water falls from the sky straight down onto Vet’s head. When the space transforms into a domestic setting later – an apartment in El Paso, Texas, just off the Texas/Mexico border – the trickle struggles to turn off completely, but for me, this happy accident just enhanced the environment of Vet and Grace’s perfectly ordinary, no-frills living room.

As the story begins, we meet our titular character (Ellena Vincent), who at first appears as something of a guardian angel figure and keeps an omniscient distance from a father-son reunion. Vet speaks of Grace highly, at one point comparing her to the Holy Ghost, himself, the Father, and Buddy (Daniel Francis-Swaby), the Son. Grace is full of more virtue than Vet can imagine, and Buddy is destined to repeat the sins of his father. Vet is a proud border patrol agent, ex-military, about to receive a medal for his excellent service. His son, Buddy, is the prodigal son returning home to celebrate the successes of his father, despite their dark past together. Grace is Vet’s second wife. She appears as a waitress at the diner, but she has other dreams and she’s writing a book that’s entirely hers (The Book of Grace, of course). 

Initially, the introduction of the Holy Trinity was fitting and cleverly conveyed in the heightened yet naturalistic poetry that Parks is known for. Later on, however, the symbols that are laid at our feet tie themselves into knots: Buddy adopts his father’s old nickname, ‘Snake’, alluding to the fact that he is slowly transforming into a carbon copy of his hyper-vigilant abusive father. As Buddy transforms into his new ‘Snake’ persona, he begins recording himself on an IPhone fixed to a tripod onstage.

Only a few members of the audience are included in the filming, as Buddy moves throughout the space, mostly stage left where a chair is conveniently reserved for him in the audience. He gives speeches to an unknown audience about the ‘three strikes’ he has afforded his dad. The function of these speeches becomes less clear as they move along and so does Buddy’s agenda. I have to confess by Part II that the repetition was grating on me, drawing me straight to a more or less predictable climax.

Though it may be a tad predictable, that climax (no spoilers!) is rigorous and well-executed. Elufowoju’s carefully assembled tableaus provide the audience with bits and pieces of the action without overwhelming them with unnecessary violence. All three actors, too, fully embody every small moment, breathing life and life force into every beat of the drama. Throughout the piece, each performer maintains an intensive presence that keeps the audience rapt, even when the text may stumble.

The Book of Grace is at Arcola Theatre until 8th June 2024 – more information and tickets can be found here.