What If If Only review, Royal Court: Caryl Churchill explores grief and madness in 17 minutes

How do you solve a problem like a 17-minute Caryl Churchill play? Even if you love short plays, they are usually shown as a series, as Churchill’s Glass. Kill. Bluebeard. Imp was in 2019. What If If Only, the playwright’s latest work with the Royal Court, is a standalone piece, and it’s hard not to approach it with a little scepticism. Then again, this is Caryl blummin’ Churchill – if anyone is worth so briefly leaving the house for, it’s her.

The curtain rises on a man (John Heffernan) sat alone, dinner for one and a half-drunk glass of red wine on the table. He’s encased within a large white box, Miriam Buether’s simple design feeling far too large, yet far too small. Speaking aloud, he absent-mindedly recalls some silly story he’s heard – the kind of story his partner would like to hear, were they still alive. The man is unshaven and untethered, a glazed-over look in his eyes. He grieves for his love, his relationship, the future they could have had and longs for some sign that they can hear him.

And then, with a low rumble, they appear. Before him stands a woman (Linda Bassett) – not the person he remembers, exactly, but a version of them that could have been. She speaks in vague platitudes with a lyrical, airy tone that’s occasionally hard to follow. The jumble of words twist and turn back on themselves, “what”s, “how”s and “if”s repeated like glitches. But Churchill’s script still packs many an emotional punch, traumatic and claustrophobic while laugh-out-loud funny.

There’s something eerie in the relationship between the pair as the man tries to reconcile his partner with this apparition. She may be older than they ever were – she calls herself “a ghost of a dead future” – yet Bassett plays the role with a wide-eyed innocence. Her future was unmarred by the realities of existence, describing days full of “equality and cake and no bad bits at all” as she pleads with him to bring her back. If only life could be so easy.

But as the man wonders about other futures that could have existed, the ghost transforms and the show takes on a more sinister tone. Bassett becomes a nightmarish shapeshifter, Cerberus itself, as she delivers a lengthy monologue as a hundred three-word speeches, each played by an alternating future. It is, quite simply, an astonishing, exhausting performance and one few actors could sustain for longer than the minutes it is given in Churchill’s short play. While she malfunctions, the man shrinks, doubled over in insanity. Both Bassett and Heffernan expertly portray the madness of trying to imagine what can’t be changed.

Just as Caryl Churchill will always be revered for being Caryl Churchill, What If If Only can’t be separated from its context. Even in a (supposedly) post-Covid world, I’m not sure any but the most dedicated theatre-goers will be willing to brave the darkening nights for 17 minutes of theatre. Fortunately, audiences can have an evening of it and pair Churchill’s play with Aleshea Harris’s excellent revenge drama Is God Is, which is also currently running at the Royal Court. Make it a double bill, I say. Make this the future you bring to life.

‘What If If Only’ runs at the Royal Court until 23 October