Smörgåsbord review: Emotional performances ground this new and original play

Away from the bright lights of the West End lies the small theatre above The Lion & Unicorn pub. It’s the kind of space where you won’t find big productions, but what you will find is new and original pieces of work being tried out, often for the first time. Such has been the case this past week with Smörgåsbord. 

Written by and starring Luke Oliver the play tackles the tricky theme of assisted dying. It’s also topical given legislation currently making its way through the Houses of Parliament though the timing is pure coincidence. Like any great piece of theatre, Smörgåsbord doesn’t take a particular stance on the issues at its heart. Rather it leaves it up to the audience to question their own views after hearing different perspectives. 

The play tells the story of a queer couple, Patrick (Oliver) and Charlie (Conor Mainwaring) in three parts – how they meet, a mountain hike, and a therapy session – mixed together in a non-linear fashion. Both actors excel throughout, grounding the play with emotional performances and utilising a natural chemistry to bring the central relationship to life. The audience is subsequently endeared to them, which only makes viewers more sympathetic to each character and their respective views as the drama unfolds later on. 

As Patrick, Oliver is brilliant. He is sweet, playful, and nimble as he dances around the stage leading the show with an assured confidence. Dotting between time periods, he’s able to access and convey with ease a large range of emotions, making audiences laugh one moment and then tear up the next as he’s given the most heartbreaking news. Mainwaring gives an equally strong performance, matching Oliver’s playfulness but also imbuing Charlie with a steely resolve when it comes to the gut-wrenching blow that upends both characters’ lives. 

Helped by both actors’ performances, as well as Scott Le Crass and Jacob Wolstencroft’s direction, the couple at the centre of the drama feels entirely realistic, a benefit of having queer creatives working in and out of the spotlight. As a writer, Oliver also handles the play’s themes with the appropriate seriousness while weaving in moments of levity. Heavy topics like this are often, in this writer’s experience, not devoid of humour and laughter, so the comedic jabs and jokes feel entirely natural. In terms of the topic of assisted dying, Oliver manages to insert arguments for and against, both legal and emotional, without sounding too political. Again, the play does a good job of feeding the audience enough information for them to decide where they stand on their own. 

Smörgåsbord is a wonderful example of original and thought-provoking theatre that effectively demonstrates the power of the art form in highlighting such issues and encouraging and challenging people’s takes on them. That the project was almost entirely created by queer people as well as being largely self and crowd funded is also a testament to the power of authentic representation and why better arts funding is needed.