Shining a Light on RADIANT BOY

RADIANT BOY has already garnered early attention by earning a spot in the Royal Shakespeare Company’s 37 Plays competition in 2023. For context, that competition attracted writers from across the UK, spanning a dazzling array of genres—from modern satire to grand historical drama. To make it into that distinguished shortlist is no small feat. So, when it comes to new writing that challenges and excites, Nancy Netherwood is already proving she’s a name to watch.

The production officially runs from 21 May to 14 June, with a press night on 23 May—dates I’ve firmly pencilled into my diary. Beyond the simple curiosity of discovering new writing, there’s a further reason to keep RADIANT BOY on your radar: the show delves into themes of faith, superstition, and hidden domestic tensions. It does so against the distinctly northern backdrop of 1983, a year that drips with cultural signifiers—think echoes of the miners’ strikes, new wave music drifting from pub jukeboxes, and a charged political climate that shaped communities in ways still felt today.

At the heart of the story is Russell, a trainee singer who lives with his mother, Maud. Their preparations for a young priest’s arrival unfold with an undercurrent of dread, because this priest is convinced Russell is possessed. Yes, you heard that right—possessed. What that means in practical terms, and how the family comes to grips with it, remains to be seen. The premise, however, injects an immediate dose of supernatural intrigue into what could otherwise be a straightforward domestic drama. The tension is bound to keep audiences on the edge of their seats, searching for the line between earthly stress and otherworldly intrusion.

A Cast And Creative Team Worth Watching

When you see Stuart Thompson and Renée Lamb listed as the show’s leads, you know you’re in confident hands. Stuart Thompson has a knack for mining emotional depth in roles that require vulnerability and defiance in equal measure; it’ll be fascinating to see how he interprets a young man suspected of hosting something far darker than teenage rebellion. Meanwhile, Renée Lamb—already celebrated for her standout musical performances—brings an expressive range that could imbue Maud with warmth, tenacity, or quiet resignation depending on the moment. Having two seasoned performers with distinct strengths is a surefire recipe for riveting onstage chemistry.

Behind the scenes, Júlia Levai directs, supported by a creative team that includes set and costume designer Tomás Palmer, lighting designer Lucia Sanchez Roldan, and sound designer Patch Middleton. Now, it’s all well and good to list names, but what does each bring to the table? Tomás Palmer has gained a reputation for designing spaces that lend characters a tactile environment in which to exist—whether it’s battered furniture that speaks volumes about a family’s history, or subtle costume details that hint at the secrets a character might harbour. Lucia Sanchez Roldan’s lighting designs often play with gradients of light and shadow to heighten psychological unease, exactly the sort of approach that could make a story about possession crackle with tension. And let’s not forget Patch Middleton, whose mastery of sound can either soothe or send shivers down our spines in a single scene. In an age where large-scale West End spectacles sometimes overshadow the delicate art of atmospheric design, I’m excited to see how this nimble creative team crafts a sense of claustrophobic mystery at Southwark Playhouse.

A Setting that Shapes the Story

There’s a particular reason RADIANT BOY’s setting—north east England in 1983—intrigues me. On the one hand, the 1980s conjure up vivid pop culture memories: big hair, punk or new wave music, and the early days of MTV. On the other hand, this era in the north of England was marked by stark economic realities. In many communities, factories had closed, tensions ran high, and the church often played a complicated role as both community pillar and moral authority. In pockets of the north, a certain blend of superstition and Catholic or Anglican tradition could occasionally blossom into paranormal folk tales that lingered for generations.

So, imagine the confluence: a young man who’s believed to be possessed, living in a place where talk of ghosts or malevolent spirits might not be purely tongue-in-cheek. Factor in the conservative or devout mindsets that still held sway in some corners of the region, and you’ve got a powder keg. The play invites us to wonder how much of Russell’s so-called possession is real, and how much is a projection of the fears, resentments, or hopes of those around him. If the community is grappling with its own collective anxieties—be they social or economic—then it’s not too hard to imagine a scapegoat scenario unfolding before our eyes. It’s precisely this complexity that lifts RADIANT BOY above the realm of a simple ghost story.

The Subtle Chills

What fascinates me is how modern audiences might respond to the notion of a haunting or possession in a setting that isn’t drenched in the usual gothic or Victorian clichés. This isn’t a drafty castle or an abandoned asylum. It’s a working-class neighbourhood in the twilight days of disco and the nascent dawn of the home computer era. Yet the spectre of the supernatural feels every bit as unsettling in a small 1980s terraced house—perhaps even more so, because it merges the prosaic with the inexplicable. We’re not half-expecting ghosts to roam around a modern domestic setting, which makes it all the more disorienting when they do.

There’s also the hint of a historical thread tied to the title. The legend of a “Radiant Boy” often references ghostly tales in the north of England—apparitions of young boys emitting an eerie glow, signifying sorrow or tragedy. Nancy Netherwood may well be drawing on that folklore, injecting it into the lived experiences of her characters. That interplay between real-world grit and supernatural lore is a hallmark of brilliant British drama, calling to mind works where the mythical seeps into everyday life, leaving us to question our own notions of reality.

A Crucible For Emerging Talent

I’d be remiss not to mention the venue. Southwark Playhouse has carved out a niche as a theatre unafraid to nurture fresh voices. Over the years, it has become a crucible where new writing meets intimate, experimental staging—precisely the environment a daring piece like RADIANT BOY needs to thrive. The fact that Cloudburst Productions Ltd is teaming up with Southwark Playhouse underscores a commitment to delivering high-calibre work while championing emerging talent. And this collaboration bodes well for a play that walks the tightrope between drama and dread.

Given the theatre’s relatively modest capacity, audiences can expect an experience that feels close, intense, and immediate. The closeness between actor and spectator often magnifies a sense of claustrophobia—ideal for a show where supernatural elements lurk just beyond the threshold. If the creative team embraces that physical proximity, every twitch of an actor’s eyebrow or flicker of a lighting cue will be heightened. You can almost feel the tension crawling across the stage until it seeps into the front row.

Be Prepared to be Possessed by the Story

I can already picture myself edging to the front of my seat during a pivotal scene—heart pounding, breath caught in my throat—wondering whether Russell really is wrestling with a demonic presence or if it’s all a collective hallucination spurred by small-town fears. In a theatrical landscape where sequels and revivals sometimes dominate, there’s a refreshing spark in seeing a new work like RADIANT BOY claim its corner of the spotlight. Between the potent cast, the atmospheric setting, and the interplay of folklore and modern anxieties, it has all the hallmarks of a show that’ll linger in your mind long after the curtain falls.

If you’re inclined towards theatre that dares to blend the everyday with the unnerving, circle 21 May to 14 June in your calendar. There’s a palpable thrill in watching a piece evolve from page to stage—especially one that’s already made waves in a prestigious competition. And should you find yourself wandering home afterwards, glancing over your shoulder at phantom footsteps, well, that’s exactly the magic of live performance taking hold.

In the end, RADIANT BOY stands to remind us that sometimes the most haunting stories aren’t told in musty ghost-manor settings but in the very places we call home. After all, what could be more unsettling than realising that what we’re truly afraid of might be hiding in plain sight—even within ourselves? The question is, are we brave enough to bear witness? Or to walk away changed? This play just might prove that the line between safety and the supernatural can shift in the blink of an eye—and that, I’d say, is reason enough to book a seat.