Written by Rob Drummond

Directed by Robert Softley Gale

Review by Josie Rose

Tickets from £15.00 (Con. Available)

When will Britain be truly accessible for all? Monday 13 July, 2037 apparently. At least, it is in the eyes of Ralph, proudly contributing to the make-up of the new system. ‘We listened’ he repeats, as he babbles on about the new assessment Chris is about to be subjected to.

The play opens with Kenneth MacLeod’s striking set. With British Sign Language, captions, and audio description, it is somewhat revolutionary in its accessible nature and one that many other shows might seek to emulate in design. ‘Able’ describes everything, precisely, everything, mirroring stage directions cleverly, as Chris awaits her visit from Ralph. Frustratingly inhumane and robotic in his manner, Ralph’s character does well to build the tension subtly yet incredibly effectively. The ridiculous point system that Ralph utilises, scoring points for Chris’s ‘motivation’ and ‘humour’, inhibits her from receiving essential disability benefits. It is what Chris does to survive that spearheads the fantastical, wild, dark, second act. But no spoilers here.

Rob Drummond’s writing strikes the perfect balance between light and dark while tackling one of the most important considerations of our world so effortlessly. Robert Softley Gale’s direction builds the tension so carefully, that by the end of the first act, the audience’s blood is boiling. This is slightly lost in moments of the second act, with its more playful nature, but ultimately is achieved once again in the play’s despairing denouement.

The performances in this production mirror the director’s precision. Supposedly the ‘hero of this story’, Gillian Dean captures this fine-drawn desperation in Chris that her true complexity is never diminished. Pushed to her limit by the excruciatingly by-the-book ‘Ralph’, played to perfection by Neil John Gibson, the two carry the first act with ease. Nicola Chegwin likewise joins Dean in her human convolution as we feel both sympathetic and irritated by her in the same breath. Finally, Richard Conlon‘s Able and Emery Hunter breathe a new, playful light into the show, all while ensuring the play’s complete accessibility, which after all is utterly central.

Birds of Paradise Theatre Company has brought such a unique, truthful account of the struggles experienced by disabled people, a perspective that should take centre stage far, far more in theatre. ‘Don’t. Make. Tea’ is essential, salient, and paramount to bring to audiences, as Chris’s story is one rarely told but all too often felt.

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