As a performance piece, everything was put in place to enable us to do both those things. The open set was meticulously curated with a critical eye for period detail. The contrast of the stained glass and the swastika was instantly unsettling and hovered on the edge of the consciousness throughout. The mise-en-scène was excellent and this enabled so much of the action to be totally credible, even when space might have meant constraint. The positioning of the recumbent figure teased with possibility. The folder carefully placed on the floor, away from the sphere of the figure, gave another question to be answered, with the splash of startling white from the medical coats giving a clue to the users of the room. This set was full of detail which instantly conveyed the era.

The use of the set throughout was excellent – I particularly appreciated the handling of the morning ablutions. Such confidence from both of the actors involved was mesmerising. My only fleeting concern was that clearing the doorway was sometimes a bit tricky but it was a momentary distraction.

The sound design was excellent and the execution very sensitive. The choice of music was absolutely right (I’m going to make a predictable guess and say Wagner?): soul-wrenching strings. One particularly notable moment: the timing and the levels of the car arrival and the ringing of the doorbell. Expertly handled. 

The lighting was subtle and exactly appropriate for each scene – I’m not sure how comforting the lighting team will find it but I’m going to offer the standard “if you don’t notice it, it must be working” because it really did work, contributing to the mood and atmosphere that was engendered throughout.

Wardrobe did a great job on the period and character requirements. It’s always a challenge to get every detail historically correct and if there were any anachronisms in there, I was perfectly convinced – with a short-lived concern about the length of Schmidt’s trousers at one point! All of the clothing reflected the characters extremely well.

The actors were given some excellent tools to enable their performance and they used these to great advantage, with the first two actors on stage delivering a masterclass in control and technique. Charlotte Collingwood, as Martha, set the standard for the whole play from the first moment she appeared. Her focus, intention and attention were remarkable – she was totally, wordlessly in character, both in movement and motivation. Clearly, she was not supposed to notice the sleeping figure and she didn’t – not by using obvious avoidance technique but by simply not noticing. I believed that she was carrying out her daily routine with the same dedication that she always showed. It takes courage to hold an audience as she did, the character just doing the mundane, and I immediately understood that she was doing it for someone that she cared about and respected. Charlotte’s turning of the armchair from the fire towards the room was handled so carefully it was a compelling watch and this attention to detail was carried through to the end of the play. There were a couple of occasions when vocal delivery dropped a little, making it harder to catch all the nuance but this was not a real issue.

As Dr Franz, Danny Swanson was masterly in his interpretation, characterisation and delivery – there were so many moments that impressed and delighted, from the moment that he unfolded from the chair through all of the intense verbal exchanges. The moments when the doctor had his morning wash could have been unconvincing – instead they were spell-binding. Throughout the play, Danny used the staples of dynamic vocal delivery – with nuanced pause, to build numerous instances of tension and climactic release. There was some intensely detailed verbal and non-verbal communication work. He embodied the character perfectly.

Alfie Hart, as Eric Schmidt, had to show an initially fairly innocuous character, slowly but surely revealing the dedicated servant of the Reich. He appeared to be something akin to the junior admin of a business, with all the corresponding lack of empathy, darkening as the play developed. Alfie played the role well, creating uneasy relationships with all the other characters. It’s difficult to achieve and sustain the hard edge that amoral characters demand and, in the main, Alfie did do this, although there were times when that edge was lost. Pride, fervour and confidence require strong posture and, although this became a little lax at times, he created a distinct disdain for the older, arguably more important doctor, and this played well.

Elizabetta is a desperate character, tortured by love and anxiety for her child – and it’s a bit of a gift for the actor, who gets to explore so many complex emotions. A seasoned actor, Francine Ross changed the energy on stage every time she appeared. Her vocal and physical interpretation was full of emotion, demanding that we appreciate the trauma that she’s suffering. It’s hard to balance the necessary intensity within the potential constraints of an undeniably ‘stiff upper lip’ British audience and there were moments when I felt that the vocal delivery was possibly too much. However – this was a very truthful expression of the depth of love for a child who struggles with ‘normal’ life, having myself witnessed and been humbled by such devotion. Francine’s interpretation reflected the indisputable need to speak up for, to advocate for, those who need it.

How to play a hero – when neither you nor the rest of the world yet know that’s what you are? With careful movement, clear articulation and empathy, Ian Major played Bishop Von Galen very effectively. Although this role doesn’t offer the same obvious challenges as some of the others, it’s crucial to create the right degree of gravitas. Ian was very well cast, an actor having the capacity to exude quiet moral certainty, to be the antithesis of Schmidt and the conscience of Dr Franz. The ecclesiastical seated posture, both hands firmly on both arms of the chair, with the feet firmly grounded gave the message that he would not be swayed. With good vocal delivery and a secure understanding of both the text and the sub-text, he was a credible voice speaking truth to power.

The job of the director is multi-faceted – and you need to be all things to all people. John Cook did a splendid job with this play. He says in the Director’s Notes that he’s felt fortunate to work with the cast – and it was obvious to me that it was a stimulating collaboration. All the decisions that were made were proved to be the right ones. The audience were totally engrossed, you could hear a pin drop. For the actors, they had an opportunity to really explore and to challenge themselves. When I asked among my friends for someone to accompany me to see this play, there were no takers. The subject matter was deemed too serious, in both historical and contemporary terms. And that it is – serious and painfully thought-provoking.

I applaud everyone involved and the Barn Theatre for having the courage to include this play in the season.