Directed by Ivo van Hove

Written by Tony Kushner

Review by Dominic Corr

The King’s Theatre

Thirty-five years on from its premiere, Tony Kushner’s sweeping, hallucinatory opus Angels in America feels less like a historical artifact of the 1980s AIDS crisis and more like an ominous, hyper-relevant forecast of modern societal fracture. In Ivo van Hove’s monumental staging for Internationaal Theater Amsterdam at the King’s Theatre, this magnificent production arrives at what might be its absolute peak in resonance, exposing a nation locked in an endless war between ideological repression, political hypocrisy, and human desperation. But it never once loses footing in its roots.

Yet van Hove’s approach to this sprawling beast is characteristically radical: he has carved both parts of Kushner’s epic into a single, relentless five-hour marathon. In compressing the narrative, however, the production runs into a fascinating paradox. By pruning key transitional beats to streamline the runtime, the show occasionally feels, surprisingly, a touch too short. The emotional crises arrive at a breakneck speed; domestic unions dissolve and key dynamics fracture before we have fully established their foundational warmth. The rapid narrative acceleration means certain grand, philosophically heavy monologues – particularly those involving celestial visitations – risk feeling abrupt or overly dogmatic against the pared-back framework.

Nevertheless, what remains on stage possesses an undeniably colossal presence. Stripping away traditional scenery in favour of a vast, almost entirely vacant visual space, van Hove relies on fluid lighting, atmospheric backdrops, and an echoing soundtrack of David Bowie to let the writing breathe. The staging is utterly fluid, allowing characters to glide through each other’s fever dreams, visions, and drug-induced escapes without a single prop to anchor them. It aids tremendously with the pacing too, as some 60-minute Fringe shows manage to feel more stagnant and lengthy, than this behemoth, thanks to the consistent ebb-and-flow of narrative.

The physical presence of the eight-person ensemble is nothing short of magnetic. Performing in Dutch with surtitles, the cast delivers an unflinching masterclass in raw emotional endurance. At the production’s terrifying core is Hans Kesting, whose portrayal of the monstrous lawyer Roy Cohn is a triumph of sheer theatrical force; a man for whom even death comes as transactional. Kesting commands the space with brutal authority, making his character’s physical decay and ultimate isolation all the more agonising to witness. Alongside him, the ensemble shape-shifts through multiple roles with stunning physical versatility, providing a rich human tapestry beneath the existential dread. As numerous roles, including a wit as dry as burnt toast, is an incredible Marieke Heebink as Ethel Rosewnberg, and Joe’s mother; Joe carried with a persistent nervous energy and moral quandary by Krisjan Schellingerhout.

It is a demanding, hypnotic, and undeniably impressive outing. While van Hove’s drastic editorial cuts occasionally sacrifice the slow-burn emotional impact of Kushner’s original tragedy, the sheer authority, kinetic energy, and haunting presence of this production ensure it remains an essential piece of festival theatre.

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