A ballad can be defined as a form of verse, a narrative set to music. This is apt for this story of Hattie and James, inextricably linked by music and tragedy throughout their lives.

We meet our title pair at St Pancras International train station. They have been apart for years when across the concourse, James catches a glimpse of Hattie playing on one of the public pianos. We are then quickly transported back to the mid-seventies, a rehearsal of Benjamin Britten’s opera Noye's Fludde, to witness the origin of a lifelong friendship between these two piano prodigies. They are certainly an unlikely pair; James is a musical snob, uptight and with perfect pitch. Whereas Hattie is free spirited and chaotic, she brings a bottle of vodka to the rehearsal and her complicated relationship with alcohol continues to impact her life. Early in the play, we learn of a tragic accident, the fallout of which is at the centre of The Ballad of Hattie and James which tackles how love and loss shape our lives.

A little research about playwright Samuel Adamson will tell you that he enjoys charting a story across the decades and exploring the transformative power that a single event can have on a life. These are both at the forefront of The Ballad of Hattie and James, which uses a revolve, designed by Jon Bausor, to guide us through time and even into the future. Place names and dates in the style of a train departure board are displayed to signpost this seventy-year friendship but sadly, some of the nuances of the story are lost in the non-linear structure. The Ballad of Hattie and James covers a lot of topics but ultimately it seems that Adamson has so much to say that the material lacks cohesion and we are left pondering the message of this middle-class melodrama.

The script is impassioned, incredibly witty and humorous. One imagines it would be even more enjoyable with a greater knowledge of classical music and composers. There are also plenty of contemporary cultural references; Kate Bush features and we particularly enjoyed a Brontë sisters dinosaur joke...random we know, but it’s moments like this that make this quirky play endearing.

The piece is led by Sophie Thompson as Hattie and Charles Edwards as James; their talent and status as respected and seasoned actors are key to keeping the audiences’ attention. They have great chemistry which captures the rivalry at the centre of their turbulent friendship. Both protagonists are gay, something rarely seen in theatre especially without it being the subject matter. Despite this, there is plenty of tension in this platonic friendship and Edwards perfectly portrays James’ yearning for the conflicted Hattie. The play talks about being on the cusp of life and it feels like either Sophie Thompson or her character are always on the cusp of exploding, but sadly a climax never comes. One cannot help but feel that our leads have been let down by a lack of direction. There are also few physical or vocal changes between scenes to distinguish the ages of Hattie and James. Whereas Suzette LLewellyn multi-roles exquisitely, using her voice and body to do so. The piano is beautifully played by Berrak Dyer instead of the title pair which should have given the flexibility to move around the stage but especially in the first act, there are moments when the direction feels very static.

The Ballad of Hattie and James is a heartfelt and important story of music, loss, and friendship but unfortunately it does not quite hit all the right notes.

*** Three stars

Reviewed by: Sophie Luck

The Ballad of Hattie and James plays at the Kiln Theatre until 18 May, with further information here.