★★★★☆
Succession writer Lucy Prebble premiered her play The Effect in 2012 and now, in 2023, it makes a triumphant return to the National Theatre. But many things, including our attitudes towards mental health, have changed in the 11 years since the love story (or is it?) between Tristan and Connie graced the National Theatre’s stage, prompting Prebble to make a few changes to the writing, which only make this play hit so much harder.
Tristan (an electric Paapa Essiedu) and Connie (Taylor Russell, in her stage debut) are two strangers taking part in the same drug trial. They’re given increasing doses of a drug which will inevitably increase their dopamine levels to battle symptoms of depression, so when Tristan and Connie fall in love, is it real or just a side effect of the drug?
They are watched over by two doctors, Lorna (a commanding Michele Austin) and Toby (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith), both of whom also grapple with their own issues as Tristan and Connie’s whirlwind romance threatens the entire study.
Credit: National Theatre
The Effect consists of only four actors and minimal staging. The Lyttelton Theatre has been stripped down to its bare bones, with the audience sitting on two sides of the auditorium, almost cocooning the stage in the middle. On the stage, there are only two foldable chairs and a mysterious white bucket, which is later revealed to contain a model of the human brain. There are no props, but none are needed as the performances are more than enough to capture and, crucially, hold our attention over the next 100 minutes.
The conflict at the heart of The Effect is still riveting. What is love? How do we know it’s real? The Effect is less a play about mental health than about our understanding of something that can’t be quantified. In one of the rousing changes to the play, Lorna, who is prone to depression herself, reflects on her race and class.
“I’m a working-class Black woman,” she tells Toby. “Getting out of bed is a political act.”
It’s a line that almost gets lost in the sea of potent writing, but Austin delivers it with quiet determination and power. The Effect could have done with more of these moments; Prebble asks a lot of questions but has no intention of answering most of them. At nearly two hours with no interval, The Effect can be frustrating, but it’s never anything less than compelling.
Credit: National Theatre
The Effect feels almost cinematic with its dynamic, minimalist staging. The floor lights up in a bright white to create a sense of space around the characters. Tristan and Connie are caged in their own little white squares at first, but as their love blossoms, their squares melt together.
Films are held together by editing; the harmony of images and sound is stitched into a coherent product by an editor in a room, who chooses what takes to use and how long to hold the camera’s gaze on an actor. Russell, who starred in last year’s cannibal romance Bones and All and was devastatingly authentic in Trey Edward Shults’ Waves, feels right at home on the stage. She quickly adapts to the rhythm of theatre; her breathless delivery of “I’m in love” will leave you equally heartbroken and fulfilled.
She’s often a little more stiff and rehearsed than the mesmerising Essiedu. The Black Mirror actor plays Tristan like an exposed nerve on stage; there’s a magnetic urgency to his performance, and the chemistry between him and Russell is palpable and believable. In a particularly striking scene, the lights keep going out and coming back up, showing the couple in different poses, bodies tangled together.
In all its simplicity, The Effect is a real show of artistry. Director Jamie Lloyd directs it with emotional clarity, but it all seems a little surface-level. There’s not much to think about on the way home, apart from the luminous performances.
The Effect is playing now at the National Theatre until 7 October.
