Poison is a thoroughly absorbing two-hander that gradually reveals the inner lives of its protagonists. A man and a woman meet in the reception area of a cemetery. Set designer Oscar Selfridge has created a crisp, sharply defined arena in which this encounter occurs. There are three chairs, and there’s a digital clock.  It is a place in which to wait, but for what? The man is dressed casually, and his hesitant demeanour suggests that he is not entirely sure that he should be there.  The woman is clothed top to toe in sombre grey and black, and her manner is more self-assured, more adversarial.  She has been tending the grave of their young son, Jacob, killed around ten years ago in a road accident. Though they have been apart for many years, they have met today because the cemetery is closing, and his grave has to be moved. Conversation proves difficult. She responds to his banal observation that she ‘hasn’t changed a bit’ as if he is being provocative.  Rebuffed, he fiddles with the coffee machine, and short of anything else to say, he comments that it’s quiet. ‘It usually is in cemeteries’ is her prickly rejoinder.  They are just a few feet apart, but there’s an enormous chasm between them.

It would appear that during the past ten years she has become defined by her sorrow over the loss of their son.  He accuses her of wallowing in grief, while he in contrast seems to have had the strength to move on, to live a new life.  Yet there is a kind of fortitude in the way she has kept faith with the memory of her little boy. She is secure in her grieving, and is contemptuous of his apparent diffidence.  ‘I think about him every day’, he says, but what does he feel?

Will Fletcher skilfully portrays a man whose apparent rationality represents a failure to come to terms with his own emotions. He seems to have escaped from the past and has found new joy in life, yet he has unresolved conflicts churning away within. He is well-intentioned and seeks reconciliation, but we get a sense of residual guilt and hidden pain. When he walked out on her, was he being resolute, or weak?

Equally impressive is Darby Hannon’s very moving depiction of a woman who is perhaps a little too proud of her conscious decision to turn her back on happiness. She seems brittle and distant, and her cold smile speaks of jaded cynicism.  They argue bitterly, and tension mounts until breaking point. There is a violent outburst that proves to be cathartic, for he can now express his true feelings, and she can now begin to forgive. There is a peace offering, and in a profoundly touching scene, delicately performed by both actors, we see glimpses of the tenderness and humour that once characterised their relationship. Their rediscovery of mutual affection has come much too late, but there is resolution of a kind.

Under Sara Aniqah Malik’s beautifully paced direction, Poison is a dark tale of loss and of lost opportunities.  Written by Lot Vekemans, and seen here in an English translation by Rina Vergano, this gripping play teases out some serious questions regarding grief and its consequences.  Will Fletcher and Darby Hannon’s finely tuned, compelling performances as the damaged survivors of a personal tragedy will stay in my memory for a very long time.    ★★★★☆    Mike Whitton    15th May 2019