Synopsis

A boarding school dormitory, late on a Sunday night.

Mia tightens the rope around Alice’s wrists, a cruel smile playing on her lips, as Izzy snips a hole in the black beanie pulled over Alice’s face, exposing her mouth to the cold air. This is not a game, but a harrowing initiation ritual, a twisted rite of passage in this elite institution. Henry, back in his mother’s London flat, lies awake, haunted by the burden of his alcoholic, mentally unstable mother, Martha. As the night drags on, secrets unravel, revealing a family on the brink of collapse, held together by Henry’s desperate attempts to maintain control amidst chaos.

Polly Stenham‘s That Face plunges into the depths of abuse, mental health, and family dysfunction. The play’s raw intensity is matched by its sharp, unflinching dialogue and moments of surreal, nightmarish imagery that reflect Martha’s fractured psyche. The narrative is a linear descent into the maelstrom of a family tearing itself apart, its tension unrelenting. The stark realism of the scenes contrasts with the occasional hallucinatory monologues, creating a disorienting experience that leaves the audience breathless.