Run Sister Run: Unraveling Decades and Revealing Truths star⭐⭐⭐⭐

Marlie Haco’s Run Sister Run is not your average theatrical journey. It’s a bold, impressionistic work that defies conventional storytelling, drawing audiences backward through four decades of a family’s tumultuous history, masterfully constructed to reveal the origins of their deepest wounds.

The play opens in a scene of classic domestic discord. We're plunged into the fraught world of a middle-class couple, Connie and Adrian, engaged in a clipped, venomous barney. Connie, the mother and wife, is a tightly wound spring, manic in her flower arranging, her gin consumption, and her reliance on anti-anxiety medication. Adrian, the father, is equally unappealing: patronising, supercilious, and convinced that every problem can be summarily dismissed or solved by throwing money at it. Their teenage son, Jack, played with a potent blend of hormone-addled rage and vulnerability by Charlie Beavan, grapples with the fallout of a pregnancy announcement from his ex-girlfriend. The air is thick with braying, swearing, and an all-consuming concern for superficial appearances. This isn't a family designed for immediate warmth; rather, they serve as a stark, unappealing tableau, but as the synopsis implies, this is merely the tip of the iceberg.

As the narrative literally spools backward through four decades, with performers physically walking backwards through the space, each scene meticulously places another crucial piece of the puzzle. The reverse chronology is a powerful device, illuminating the origins of their estrangement and the events that shaped each character. With every step back in time, more light is shed on their lives, transforming initial impressions and deepening our understanding of this complex family unit.

Ultimately, Run Sister Run is a powerfully constructed, memorable, and deeply moving piece of theatre. It explores with unflinching honesty what family means, what it can mean, and how its very contours constantly change and evolve over time. It's an uncomfortably familiar yet utterly compelling exploration of the past's inescapable grip on the present. Highly recommended.