PLAY REVIEW: Clarkston ★★★★

Samuel D. Hunter’s Clarkston, newly arrived at the Trafalgar Theatre, is a quietly devastating and intimate drama that lingers in the memory. Making his West End debut, Joe Locke plays Jake, a young man burdened both physically and emotionally, displaced from his past and trying to make sense of what remains. Opposite him, Ruaridh Mollica gives a powerful, searing performance as Chris, a night‑shift worker whose life has been frayed by hardship and whose vulnerability is often hidden beneath a hard shell. Sophie Melville rounds out the trio with a role that, though smaller, leaves a profound impact: as Trisha she is at once deeply broken, deeply human, and utterly compelling.

Locke’s Jake is a study in contradictions: hopeful yet resigned, idealistic yet grounded by the cruel realities of life, illness, and disappointment. He inhabits the role with warmth and nuance, never letting the weight of Huntington’s disease, or the disappointments of unmet expectations, tip the play into melodrama. The chemistry between Jake and Chris is central — it evolves from unease and distance to something tender, fragile, almost sacred. Moments between Locke and Mollica crackle with tension and longing; the staging allows us to breathe in the silences between the words.

The production design works in service of the inner lives of the characters. Milla Clarke’s set—a drab warehouse‑Costco at night—is minimal but expressive; Stacey Derosier’s lighting shifts subtly, sometimes harsh and fluorescent as Jake’s workday, sometimes softer in moments of introspection. Jack Serio’s direction keeps the pace slow but never stagnant; there’s enough stillness for the audience to feel the isolation, and enough warmth to feel the small pulses of connection that give the characters life.

Where Clarkston occasionally struggles is in its script: Hunter’s writing can be heavy with exposition, and some of the metaphors of frontier, discovery, and escape are repeated enough to feel familiar. The narrative doesn’t offer tidy resolutions, which is part of its power, but leaves you yearning for deeper insight into Jake’s past dreams, what he hoped for before fate intervened.

Despite this, Clarkston is a triumph of performance and atmosphere. It reminds us that the most powerful stories are often those of imperfect people simply trying to matter — trying to belong. For fans of Joe Locke, or anyone drawn to plays that dwell in quiet emotional spaces, this is theatre that rewards patience, empathy, and openness. It’s a play about internal landscapes as much as outer ones, and about hope carried in conversations that aren’t always articulate but are honest.