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There’s an undeniable synergy to staging Noughts & Crosses at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre. Malorie Blackman’s searing YA novel (published in 2001) of forbidden love and systemic racism plays out beneath an amber summer sky that gradually darkens as the story slides into something increasingly bleak, brutal, and cautionary.
Set in a dystopian world rigidly divided by race, where dark-skinned Crosses hold power over light-skinned Noughts, the plot follows the affluent Cross Sephy (Corinna Brown) and Nought Callum (Noah Valentine), whose forbidden friendship and eventual romance face violent opposition amid rising terrorism and social unrest, with their families caught in the fray. They navigate betrayal, heartbreak, and the harsh truths of a segregated society.
In her Regent’s Park debut, director Tinuke Craig makes smart use of the tools she’s afforded in such an iconic space. Copper light spills across the stage, courtesy of both the setting sun and Colin Richmond’s scorched bronze set that evokes the brutalist decay of a once-thriving industrial complex now crumbling under its own rot. Ladders, walkways, and staircases slice the stage into zones of power and peril, while an ever-present ensemble looms over the action, part Greek chorus, part Orwellian thought police.
Visually, it’s striking. Joshua Pharo’s lighting conspires with Max Pappenheim’s immersive soundscape to conjure a chilling atmosphere of surveillance. DJ Walde’s electronic score lends the production a cinematic sweep. For all its flair, though, this production struggles to overcome the limitations of such an ambitious adaptation.
The script feels burdened by its source material, cramming in plot points at a relentless pace, often in blunt and heavy-handed ways. Themes are spelt out with all the subtlety of a Tannoy announcement, and characters are rarely allowed the space to develop before the next crisis strikes. As a result, many of their decisions feel confusing rather than tragic, hollowing out the emotional resonance that made Blackman’s novel so powerful and leaving audiences emotionally short-changed.
Valentine is the clear standout, bringing a restrained sincerity to his portrayal of Callum. Brown, meanwhile, brings plenty of energy and conviction as Sephy, but at times the character feels flattened into a petulant teen.
The script’s tonal shifts require a deft hand that this production is missing, with the scenes sometimes descending into soap opera territory. The McGregor family’s kitchen-sink clashes, in particular, feel ripped from an episode of EastEnders. Still, the central relationship has its charms – especially in the lighter, more playful moments that offer glimpses of characters that are so fleshed out and beloved in the books.
Ultimately, the production has a lot in common with its protagonists: full of heart, but a little out of its depth.
On at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre until 26 July.
