The programme cover states “This play is a lie” so you are warned from the start that the detailed and ornate dressing of the venue for the wedding of Leyla and Joel at the Vorbek Memorial Hall is something of a sham. As soon as the COP review of the permit for the event is cleared, you expect the story to explode into something very different, except it does not. Like a misfiring firework display, it descends into a bewildering chaotic (two hours without a break to refresh) assault on theatrical censorship. It is worthy topic whether as a satire on the totalitarian state censorship of arts and media of some countries or the UK’s historical censorship by the Lord Chamberlain’s office until 1968, or even a comment on the Arts Council’s obsession with using their funds to orchestrate messages it supports and to penalise those worthy organisations who don’t fall into line.

Sam Holcroft’s script touches on the nature of writing for the theatre, on portrayals of truth or propaganda, of the challenges of verbatim theatre and the expectations of those audiences that modern day theatre attracts. It has the potential to be gripping, dramatic and engaging but its structure, stereotypical characters (a drunken established author, a nervous wannabe writer, a young attractive female assistant, and a manic ambitious director) and unbelievable interactions makes it very hard work. We don’t care about any of the male characters who are self-centred obsessive and deserve everything they get. The young female is the only believable character as we see her confidence grow as she gets the measure of the men.

This has none of the drama or terror of the totalitarian states depicted so brilliantly in 1984, or more recently in the wonderful darkly comic The Pillowman about the suppression of an author because everything here is played full throttle, over the top and without subtlety. Jonny Lee Miller plays the ambitious cultural director (Celik) with intensity and aggression, pointing his black gloved hand at everyone and shouting his lines. Your mind drifts to speculating why he is wearing the gloves. Samuel Adewunmi is the wannabe author who supposedly has a word-perfect memory that enables him to produce verbatim scripts of conversations but does not begin to understand the nature of good writing. Geoffery Streatfeild is Bax, the acclaimed drunken author who Celik has “mentored”. It is left to Tanya Reynolds to add some subtlety and nuance in the most convincing character (Mei), reacting beautifully to the others and growing in stature as the action unfolds. It is easy to see why she was listed as a “star of tomorrow” in 2020.

As the two hours unfold, your eyes wander to the magnificent set designed by Max Jones with portals and a false proscenium upstage (reminding us that this is play within a play within a play), which mirrors the colours and design of the wonderfully refurbished Trafalgar Theatre. A grand piano stands unused stage right for no obvious reason and a cellist plays stage left to add atmosphere and tension to the proceedings. It is intended to make the audience feel part of the action and collaborators in the deceit, but we remain strangely detached unaffected by sudden interventions in the auditorium and changes in the lighting state.

Theatre ought to engage our minds and our hearts, we ought to feel something for the characters to emotionally engage with the story and be moved in some way by the end. When its based on true life situations, we might expect some insight into the truth but we accept that writers use dramatic licence to make the story more compelling and impactful. Already this year, we have seen plays based on real life characters such The Motive and the Cue, Backstairs Billy and The King and I and in each, we have been hooked by the central characters, enchanted by the story, and reflected on the societal changes on attitudes to sexual diversity. This is what great theatre can do by emotionally engaging its audience. A Mirror, for all its intensity and intention, does not do that; it feels like it is being too clever for its own good.

** Two stars

Reviewed by: Nick Wayne

A Mirror is currently booking at London’s Trafalgar Theatre until 20 April, with tickets available here.