Review by Emma
Tickets were gifted in return for an honest review
Welcome to the executive board of the Eureka Day School in California for their first meeting of the 2018-19 academic year. An outbreak of mumps has occurred, and the board meeting descends into polite anarchy as the question of vaccination rears its head.
 |
| Photo by Pamela Raith |
This executive board is full of progressive yet well-meaning characters, people who use phrases such as “deeper learning” and “holding space” for fear of offending anyone. We have tech-genius Eli (a highly animated Matt Gavan), provoking laughs from the outset as he seemingly feels more comfortable playing with plastic dinosaurs and sitting on bean bags than at the chairs provided like the “proper adults”; new parent to the school – and the board’s lone Black member - Carina (an incredible Adele James, whose side-eye is a singular talent on its own); single parent Meiko (Kirsty Rider, equally brilliant at both dry comments and emotional outbursts); and anti-vaxxer employee Suzanne (a phenomenal Jenna Russell). They are led – in a fashion – by Don, the school’s principal (a fantastic Jonathan Coy), beleaguered and fighting for his life amongst the strong characters surrounding him.
The meetings take place in the school’s library, a fantastically colourful set with prominently placed books on tolerance and acceptance. Set (and costume) designer Eleanor Field has knocked it out of the park with this one. Children’s paintingsare centrally placed along the back wall (provided by local Brookside Primary School, in particular their Willow Class and two teachers). The books are bright and appealing (all donated as part of the Children’s Book Project, a charity that redistributes pre-loved books to children who need them). Stained-glass windows, inspired by architect Julia Morgan, line the tops of the shelves. The costumes, as well, fit the theme; earthy colours, sustainable materials, with enough to distinguish one character from another. Carina, the newest board member, wears brighter colours in contrast to Suzanne, who’s been here for years, in her muted casuals. There isn’t a single thing in the design of set or costume that feels out of place. Special mention must be given to the hospital set, that appears for one scene only, appearing and disappearing into nothingness. Lighting (Elliot Griggs) and sound (Lee Affen) combine well to really sell the vision.
 |
| Photo by Pamela Raith |
The script as it stands could be tedious. It’s full of half-sentences, characters speaking over each other, everyone treading a high-wire in trying not to offend. And yet, it’s never boring and in fact becomes sharper as the viewpoints polarise. The first scene is teetering on the edge of caricature but by the end you’re really seeing the differing viewpoints each character has, and why they so strongly believe in them. Carina assumes Eureka Day will follow standard health guidance when it comes to the MMR vaccination. Meiko and Suzanne view vaccinations as a personal choice (with Suzanne in particular having a heartbreaking reason why). Eli and his wife are known to give financial gifts to the school, pending everyone getting along, which proves to be more difficult than anyone assumed it would be.
One particular scene – the ‘community activated conversation’ – is outstanding in its writing and delivery. As our main five characters hold a conversation with the wider school community over an online communication platform, the comments from other “viewers” are displayed on a screen behind them, providing the audience with the opportunity to see the conversation in real time. Each distinct character (who we never see and yet get a very clear sense of) has something to add to the vaccination debate. As you can imagine, this descends quickly from polite conversation to charges of fascism and child abuse. There’s always that one person in the group chat who generally nods their assent throughout, and here it’s “Leslie Kaufman”, who adds a thumbs-up emoji at every valid point raised, only to put a shocked face emoji at the end of the conversation when someone inevitable uses the C-word.
It's tricky to show both sides of the vaccination debate, regardless of where you fall in it yourself. The fault lines deepen between the characters as they try to maintain their conflict avoidance. Each character gets to make a good point, as well as appear ridiculous when needed. Most people in life are well-meaning, trying to navigate this crazy life in the best way they know how. Eureka Day really shows this. I was not expecting to thoroughly enjoy every aspect of it as much as I did, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to laugh so much at a play that’s ostensibly about vaccinations. Humour really is the common ground we need in conversations like this.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Eureka Day plays at Nottingham Playhouse until Saturday 15th November 2025. Tickets are available from https://nottinghamplayhouse.co.uk/events/eureka-day/
 |
| Photo by Pamela Raith |
Post a Comment