Radiant Boy at Southwark Playhouse Borough – review

Russell Francis Chapman (played by Stuart Thompson) isn’t well. So unwell, in fact, that he’s dropped out of college and retreated to his mother’s home – a place where compassion seems as scarce as understanding. His “troubles” have been escalating for months: he hears music, voices, experiences that leave him reserved, controlled, and utterly terrified. Now, at the end of his tether, he awaits Father Miller (Ben Allen), a priest who specialises in what he calls “Psycho Divinity” – exorcisms by any other name.

What unfolds over the following 100 minutes is a dark and surprisingly intense investigation that peels back the layers of three damaged lives. Russell appears possessed, or at least entangled with a spirit that exerts disturbing control over him. As Father Miller questions both son and mother, the family’s fractured dynamic becomes clear: Russell is frightened, his mother Maud (Wendy Nottingham) remains distant and cold, while the “voice” (Renée Lamb) circles constantly, audible only to Russell but present to us all.

Playwright Nancy Netherwood has expertly crafted something that feels both fantastical and entirely believable. Part ’80s kitchen-sink drama, part Victorian gothic horror, her taut script unveils a simple tale through multiple mysteries that build genuine tension. The priest provides a foil between mother and son, offering the compassion and understanding visibly absent from their relationship, while hiding his own darkness beneath methodical care.

The ensemble performances create palpable foreboding through their deliberately flat, matter-of-fact delivery. Thompson’s Russell maintains an aloof distance that keeps him emotionally unreachable, while Nottingham’s distressed mother hides behind a protective coldness. Allen’s priest appears logical and caring, yet something darker lurks beneath his measured exterior. Together, these portrayals create an atmosphere where nothing feels quite safe.

Tomás Palmer’s set design brilliantly amplifies this unease. What appears simple – a sparsely furnished lounge in an average house – is placed within the auditorium so audiences surround it on three sides. Between us and the staged room runs a narrow walkway where Lamb’s spirit circles intermittently, singing hymns and folk tunes that only Russell can hear. This placement enforces the claustrophobia that permeates both the room and Russell’s emotional turmoil, while the barrier created by the circling spirit continually reinforces its presence and ramps up tension.

Director Julia Levai keeps everything running at pace while building sustained anxiety. This could easily become overblown melodrama, but under her measured direction, it becomes a controlled experience that has audiences shifting to the edge of their seats. The energy never wanes; instead, it coils tighter with each revelation.

What Radiant Boy aims to do is explore the thin line between psychological breakdown and supernatural possession, between family dysfunction and genuine evil. It succeeds brilliantly, creating an experience that lingers long after the lights come up.