A Slow Fire
We enter A Slow Fire in a bunker, at the end of the world, on an unnamed university campus. The premiere of this new and enticing piece of writing by Simon Stephens (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night‑Time), directed by Rex Ryan, artistic director of Glass Mask Theatre. Our story centres on two characters: Aston (played by Ross Gaynor) and Reece (played by Ian Toner), in the aftermath of the apocalypse. Aston was a previous professor, now obsessed with trying to create maps of the city. Reece in contrast was a simpler man, a porter with a teenage son he wishes to reconnect with.
Years have passed with the two only having each other for company as Aston tries to map the city. How do they keep entertained? They replay moments. Role playing the most important memories of their lives, when hope seemed like a possibility. But when Presley (played by Fionn Ó Loingsigh) arrives with a gun, a generator and questions about his sister Mary (played by Holly Demaine): is hope all we can hold on to in our final days?
True to its name, A Slow Fire has a build to it. When an unnamed city can be anywhere (names of locations include the Chelsea Mines and Alaska Beach), there is more context than most for the audience to be on board. While the moments of memory are exciting to watch, with Ryan offering some fantastic direction, the pace did drag in places, namely in the first act. The transitions often ended in blackout and with a familiar rhythm of the writing. It did begin to feel perhaps predictable. I can only assume this may be to draw the audience into a familiar feeling of comfort and routine, similar to how the characters are in the piece. While the pace picks up significantly on the arrival of other characters, there is a wait to reach that moment.
Performances throughout the piece are strong, with Gaynor and Toner jumping in and out of various characters within the moments. Gaynor presented a tense and pragmatic yet tender performance. It was very clear to see how Aston would have behaved in his university position and how now, this fall from grace offered a new type of vulnerability. Equally Toner’s performance was skittish, with Reece often questioning himself. However, the character’s arc was powerful with him coming face to face with his present reality and becoming less passive. This is contrasted with the dangerous Presley who is almost akin to Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. Ó Loingsigh captures this uneasy nature and also provides us with some of the most memorable moments: a tooth pulling, the usage of the record player and, of course, the mystery meat he offers. Demaine has a small yet powerful performance within the piece, delivering a long list of the pain and strife that occurred within the destruction, but I did question if in the writing this felt like a separate story. I would have liked to see more of what Demaine could offer us.
We learn through the characters of what life was like back then and the stark difference to now. From lost friendships to first dates. The pair flirt, console, argue and reconcile. There is an almost pedestrian living to the piece, within the unknown danger of the outdoors. Their own utopics. But is it just maladaptive dreaming or basic survival in overdrive? The set design by Andrew Clancy shows the imposing iron roll up door alongside plastic flowers. The piece dances within this context of feeling stuck but afraid to face the truth, as well as topics relating to masculinity, survival and guilt. Overall, the writing and direction are strong, with enough ambiguity and tension to keep you guessing long after the lights come up.
This show was reviewed on the 25th August 2026 at the Jermyn Street Theatre, London where it runs until the 26th September 2026. Tickets available here: A Slow Fire | Jermyn Street Theatre
Review written by Mary Condon O'Connor
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Photo credit : Alex Brenner
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