Hymn review: Thoughtful musings on male friendship with two actors at the top of their game

This music-filled new play from Lolita Chakrabarti works beautifully as a livestream
Adrian Lester and Danny Sapani in Hymn
Marc Brenner
Nick Curtis @nickcurtis19 February 2021

Male affection that’s neither romantic nor sexual is the subject of Lolita Chakrabarti’s powerful new play, which starts when two half-brothers meet for the first time, both aged almost 50, at their father’s funeral. It was written for actors Adrian Lester and Danny Sapani, and both turn in gutsy, full-throated performances.

Originally conceived for a live audience, Blanche McIntyre’s production works beautifully in livestream, the distance between the actors in the empty Almeida a visual metaphor for the emotional reserve that often exists between men.

Smooth, goatee-ed Gil (Lester) is the acknowledged son, oppressed by three high-achieving older sisters, himself pushed to study and succeed and finally co-opted into the family stationery business by Gus, the father he would “squint up at… like a god”. Burly, bearded Benny (Sapani), ignorant of his paternity, lived with his unstable mother, quit school and got a job in logistics, a family, a temper, and a tightly contained drinking habit.

Initially it looks like the two men are set to collide, but in fact they bond over the shared music of their separated past, grooving to soul and old-school rap, finding a bond, getting in tune. “Sympathetic resonance,” Benny calls it. Lester, it turns out, is a decent piano-player and breakdancer, and Sapani has a lovely singing voice. The play is constructed around dancefloor bangers, scenes set in church, father complexes and testosterone. The title - Hymn/him, obvs - is working hard.

Danny Sapani in Hymn
Marc Brenner

After an explosive opening bar room rant from Benny, and the graveside confrontation, the story sags for a while. The two men meet, Benny watchful and contained, Gil burbling platitudes. Things slowly pick up when they literally work through their feelings in the gym, then physically unpack the past in Benny’s junk room.

Gil gets jealous when Benny meets his sisters. Benny’s son Louis is an activist/rioter, furious at his dad for screwing up the world. Both men’s parents were part of the post-war wave of immigration to the UK, and there are references to Black Lives Matter and contentious statues. But one of the beauties of Chakrabarti’s script is that the characters’ heritage is incidental to the emotional core of the story, rather than central.

Adrian Lester in Hymn
Marc Brenner

The crisis I kept anticipating duly arrives, but it’s not what I expected. Suffice to say, the expected flashpoint is internal not external, and the play ends with another thoughtful layer added to its musing on men.

Despite the slickness of McIntyre’s filming, the occasional stumble or slip in the dialogue reminds you that, yes, this is happening live. It’s still deeply weird, to be there but not there, to catch glimpses of the empty auditorium. But McIntyre captures the thrill of live performance, from two actors at the top of their game.

Until Sunday: almeida.co.uk

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in