Theatre review: The Shitheads

Humans have a number of evolutionary ancestors, with some of the subspecies having co-existed in prehistoric times and fought for dominance. Jack Nicholls' debut play at the Royal Court Upstairs imagines one such time of uneasy meeting between the two, but doesn't call them by names like Cro-Magnon and Neanderthal: Clare's (Jacoba Williams) family of cave-dwellers call themselves the Magic people, as their superior ability to communicate, hunt and survive seems miraculous; they call their nomadic neighbours The Shitheads. They've been known to kill and eat their rivals, particularly their brains as they believe this will pass on all their victim's knowledge, thoughts and dreams to them, but when Clare goes on an elk hunt with Shithead Greg (Jonny Khan,) not only can he speak but he tells her a story, opening her up to the idea that there might be other ways of dealing with the other species.

So when the end of the world (aka winter) approaches, Clare invites a young Shithead mother, Danielle (Ami Tredrea) and her baby (puppeteered by Scarlet Wilderink) to spend it in her warm cave with her, rather than migrate to somewhere hotter.

But she shares the cave with her angry, wounded bear of a father Adrian (Peter Clements) and little sister Lisa (Annabel Smith,) neither of whom can be trusted around a couple of vulnerable strangers. And at some point she's going to have to deal with Danielle's questions about what exactly happened to Greg. Part-thriller, part-sitcom, David Byrne (not that one) and Aneesha Srinivasan's production is for the most part entertaining, but can be frustrating and drags out its ending.

Matching Nicholls' language and comically banal modern names, Anna Reid's design mixes a moody cave complete with scratched paintings of mammoth hunts on the walls with chintzy carpets and lamps, with the costumes a similarly schizophrenic mix of eras, although for me the Sports Direct mug was a cheap gag too many that took things into too arch a place. Because although very funny, The Shitheads' humour is of a very dark kind that jumps between the domestic comparisons to modern man and the brutal reality of our ancestors' lives.

There's a lot to recommend The Shitheads, not least of all the cast's performances that enthusiastically embrace the production's unusual style, and some impressive shocks and setpieces including the opening elk hunt which is pretty intense in such an intimate space (puppet design by Finn Caldwell.) I also liked the way the play stayed vague on which of the tribes are modern humans' most direct ancestors, leading us to reach our own conclusions.

But it's in its wider themes that I found it disappointing: As the play goes on I got the idea we might be in for a story about the origins of empathy, but by the end this has become an origin of humans othering and destroying each other for no good reason, and of violence and cruelty being what humans are to their core; messages as generic as they are bleak.

The Shitheads by Jack Nicholls is booking until the 14th of March at the Royal Court's Jerwood Theatre Upstairs (returns and day seats only.)

Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes straight through.

Photo credit: Camilla Greenwell.