Personal Values, Hampstead Theatre review - deep grief that's too brief

“They fuck you up your Mum and Dad; they may not mean to, but they do.” These lines from Philip Larkin’s 1975 poem, “This Be the Verse”, sum up the emotional fuel of many recent plays by young writers.

They certainly apply to Personal Values, Chloë Lawrence-Taylor’s debut, which is currently running in the studio at the Hampstead Theatre. But as well as showing the negative influences of parents on their children, this play is also a study of sisters, who have to cope with grief, and includes a really vivid stage representation of hoarding, here presented not as a Reality TV entertainment, but more accurately as an indicator of unresolved mental health issues.

Set in Bea’s inherited home, in Orpington, which is spectacularly full of hoarded objects, the play shows what happens when this reclusive individual gets two unexpected visits: one from her estranged sister Veda, and then from Veda’s teenage son Ash. As the house creaks, and a violent rain storm rages outside, Veda confronts Bea about the incident at their father’s funeral which has resulted in their rift. As she navigates the huge piles of hoarded belongings, while the wind howls outside and walls creak inside, old family tensions are uncovered and dusted down. Later, Bea will likewise have to answer similar questions from her nephew.

Lawrence-Taylor’s play, in common with several others recently, explores the theme of death and grieving with enormous sincerity and psychological perceptiveness. She shows how both Bea and Veda constantly relapse into familiar patterns of speech, practiced over years in the family home, and how they both need to remember the resentments they still feel. At the same time, both sisters struggle to control their worst feelings, trying to make the best of a bad situation. There are good jokes about being a daughter, a mother, and having a husband who spends all his time in the garden shed. At one point, an incident involving a dating app is both funny and bleak.

But as well as reminding us how children grow up and, if they are women, often end up caring, or parenting, their own fathers, Personal Values also illustrates the devastating effects of anger and deeply felt family antagonism. Bea has protected herself by hoarding thousands of objects, whether they are pieces of cutlery or thousands of “bags for life”. Or plastic piano keys. Or just newspapers. But in psychological terms this protective carapace is also suffocating her, and her reclusive lifestyle offers no sense of liberation. Or real peace. When a neighbour needs her help desperately, she is too ashamed to let them come into her cluttered house. And then feels guilty.

Veda’s motivation for seeking out her sister, and returning to see just how dreadful is the family home she is taking care of (not), happens because of a change in her circumstances and is powered by a desire for her sister to connect to Ash, who is a study in teen uncertainty. This is very credible, but Lawrence-Taylor is as interested in avoiding naturalism as in creating convincing sibling conversations, so there is a deliberately strange twist at the centre of the play which reminds me of a Black Mirror or an Inside No 9 story, but somehow lacks the dramatic punch of those tales. This is a shame because at 60 minutes the play is very short and already feels as if it could have been developed much more fully.

As it is, there is a joy in seeing the recognizable rapport between the two sisters and the contradictions of their behaviour: one of the many items buried in the clutter of the house is Veda’s old keyboard, which Bea once put up for sale on ebay, but then changed her mind, created a different account and bought it back. Such twists of feeling and thought provide a livid streak that runs through the piece, and, in this case, brings us the joy of seeing the pair perform Heaven 17’s 1983 hit “Temptation”. A great moment, but not really enough to lift the play from being more a sketch than a thoroughly finished work.

Lucy Morrison’s production, on designer Naomi Dawson’s marvelously cluttered set, is also blessed with Max Pappenheim’s slightly gothic soundscape and Holly Ellis’s subtly spooky lighting effects. Rosie Cavaliero’s Bea is very convincing as a person consciously grappling with her compulsive behaviours, yet also both ashamed and likewise resentful of anyone who draws attention to her condition. Holly Atkins’s Veda is a neat contrast, being much more involved in the real world outside of the family home, with contradictory feelings about her sister. Archie Christoph-Allen’s Ash has a much smaller part, but feels just right as an awkward teen. But while Lawrence-Taylor is undoubtedly talented, this piece feels too incomplete to satisfy. 

• Personal Values at the Hampstead Theatre until 17 May
• More theatre reviews on theartsdesk

• @AleksSierz