“And when the last law was down, and the devil turned ‘round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat?”

Words spoken by Sir Thomas More in Robert Bolt’s seminal A Man For All Seasons, in the face of a dogmatic, vengeance-fuelled witch-hunter. Whilst based on historical events, one must suppose that much of the dialogue and dramatic license are, by proxy, fictitious, and yet the self-destructive nature of finding and purging the ‘other’ continues to offer haunting socio-political echoes to this day.

It’s partly why Malorie Blackman’s Noughts & Crosses continues to find ever more poignancy and relevance in the current landscape. The scars and wounds born from the tragedy of George Floyd will likely not heal any time soon, and at a time where the words spoken by many within the political elite seeks to dehumanise, differentiate and divide, the sobering messages and themes that course through Crosses prove as searing as ever.

Essentially a Romeo & Juliet fable of sorts, Blackman shrewdly flips the table by presenting an alternate reality wherein segregation by skin tone is rigidly upheld, only here it is the caucasian ‘noughts’ who have been most trodden upon by the heels of history. Conversely, the ‘Crosses’ are an entitled, black superiority, and have been privy to their own u-turned take on societal white privilege.

The application of this ranges from the everyday to the grand, the sweeping and violent. A white character is forced to wear a plaster that doesn’t match their skin tone. ‘Blanker’ becomes this universe’s counterpart to the abominable ’N’ word. One of our central characters, Callum (James Arden) is to be one of the first ever ‘noughts’ at his school, but he’ll have to cross picket lines and outraged protestors first. Crosses brilliantly digs under the skin and comfortability of its audience, presenting you with doubtless the kind of everyday dilemmas, discrimination and challenges that BAME people face, but yet so often get dismissed or overlooked as trivial.

Yes, there are the bigger moments – such as a devastating attack and subsequent retaliatory action, some shadowy political machinations and broader world-building, not to mention palpably tense set pieces such as an impending execution, but it’s in the under-the-nails humanity and insight of it all where the show truly shines.

The central story follows the challenging friendship and love between ‘nought’ Callum and his childhood friend, ‘cross’ Persephone ‘Sephy’ (Effie Ansah). In a world which mostly forbids their bond, it refuses to not be. Passing through time, tragedy and an increasingly volatile world about them, the duo’s relationship forms the beating heart of Noughts & Crosses, so it’s fortunate that the two young actors tasked with depicting it do such hearty jobs.

Ansah is superb throughout, from the buoyant, childlike vim of a young Sephy giddily caught up in playfulness and optimism, right through to her more world-weary, wounded endgame, it’s a real masterclass in charting a character journey on stage. Arden, meanwhile, is quite outstanding; equal parts tortured, defiant, haunted and despairing at the judgement and prejudices about him, it’s a truly barnstorming turn, and one of the most impressive dramatic performances you’ll likely see on the stage this year.

“…a truly barnstorming turn, and one of the most impressive dramatic performances you’ll likely see on the stage this year.”

Wrinkles and complications abound. Sephy’s father, Kamal (Chris Jack) happens to be the Home Secretary, and is pulling precisely the kind of political subterfuge, rhetoric and manipulation that would, well, look right at home in 2022. Callum’s father, Ryan (Daniel Copeland) and brother Jude (a tremendous, intense Nathaniel McCluskey), meanwhile, have become embroiled in the underground paramilitary ‘LM’, a militia determined to end segregation, even if it means tiptoeing towards extremism in the process.

The broader a picture that Noughts & Crosses depicts, the wider the net of allegory and reference becomes. And yet, for all of its texture and nuance, the fundamental core here is of a fairly familiar, star-crossed mould. It displays some excellent world-building and pondering, but is fundamentally a love story, and one sensitively adapted by Sabrina Mahfouz and tautly realised by director Esther Richardson.

“The broader a picture that Noughts & Crosses depicts, the wider the net of allegory and reference becomes.”

Simon Kenny and Ben Cowens deserve credit too, though, for their ominous, claustrophobic, imposing set and lighting design, leant extra punch by Ian William Galloway’s disconcerting video work, and some truly stellar sound design from Arun Ghosh & Xana. Noughts and Crosses rarely lets you feel completely at ease; even something as subtle or even subliminal as a high-pitched, tinnitus-esque ringing, still audible several scenes after you’d perhaps expect, following an explosion. Visceral, wrenching, even at times deliberately discombobulating, whilst the terrific central performances carry the heart of Noughts and Crosses, so too does its brilliant audio-visual impact help underscore the tension and friction bubbling away beneath it all.

If the show’s structure feels a trifle lopsided, with a measuredly longer first Act that threatens to overstay its welcome after what feels like a natural pausing point, or some of the supporting plot points end up feeling a trifle regurgitated (Sephy’s mother being an alcoholic feels like it is wheeled out with little new ground or development one or two times too many), they are minor quibbles in what is otherwise a resoundingly successful whole.

Timely, resonant and as dramatically rich as ever, Noughts & Crosses presents a sobering, thought-provoking ‘what if’ spin on the star-crossed formula, whilst delivering an absorbing, cautionary tale of division and discrimination in its own right. Buoyed by terrific central performances, and navigating a layered, meaningful discussion on race relations, dogma and shared humanity, it is an enveloping, questioning, challenging and engrossing piece of theatre, not to be missed.