Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons review: ‘The story runs out of steam’

Imagine a world in which you’re only allowed to speak 140 words a day. Sam Steiner’s play Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons imagines exactly that when, living in a parallel version of present-day society, a couple named Oliver and Bernadette are forced to restrict their daily utterances under a so-called Quietude Bill.

Disgruntled folk in soured relationships might welcome such curbed communication but for Oliver and Bernadette, who meet before the law is passed and whose jobs as a songwriter and lawyer respectively revolve around words, it’s a major imposition that puts their romance to the test.

Steiner took his play to the Edinburgh Fringe in 2015 and has spoken about being inspired by Twitter’s original 140 characters per tweet limit but more so by being a cash-poor graduate keen to write a play for two performers with no props and no set.

Running for a limited time at the Harold Pinter Theatre, this year’s West End revival is also prop-less apart from a backdrop of lamps, household items, and ephemera, and its stars Aidan Turner and Jenna Coleman stay in the same clobber for the full 95 minutes.

There’s no interval either and theatregoers who fork out £150 for top-priced seats aren’t getting much bang for their bucks. But Turner is an in-demand A-lister who presumably commands a high salary for any job that takes him away from lucrative film and TV work, and Coleman has the cachet that comes from being in Doctor Who, The Serpent, and one of the Captain America movies.

They’re a likeable pair who serve the material well, although the couple they’re playing isn’t especially likeable and the material isn’t worth serving. Steiner has hit on a clever idea but doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. In frequent flashbacks it’s a meet-cute romcom about a rather dull pair; the only interesting thing about them is that they hook up at a cat’s funeral. In the present-day scenes, it’s about whether they can weather this conversation-restricting new regime.

The script raises interesting questions about how the Quietude Bill will affect different social classes (Parliament, amusingly, is exempt) but never fully explores them. Nor do we learn why it’s been implemented in the first place, how it is policed, or what the punishment for breaking it might be. I could be wrong but I suspect the author couldn’t fathom that stuff out so chose to ignore it.

There are other niggles. Why are there five lemons in the title when Coleman’s character says it seven times? Would anyone on a word limit utter “Pass the salt” when they could simply reach for it themselves? And why does that backdrop rise towards the end of the show, with some objects left floating in midair, beyond giving the designer something to do?

Turner and Coleman are engaging throughout and there are some funny moments, such as when he’s used up his quota and she has enough left for a one-sided argument. But the story runs out of steam long before they run out of words.

Rating: 2/5

Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons is at the Harold Pinter Theatre, London, until 18 March. Get tickets here.