By Stephen Moffat
Directed by Suzi Hutton
British politeness is a curious thing. It can survive awkward silences, emotional droughts, and even mild existential despair. What it struggles with, as it turns out, is murder.
The Unfriend begins innocently enough. Peter and Debbie Lindel, comfortably middle-class and comfortably stuck, return from a cruise having made what they believe to be a harmless holiday acquaintance. Elsa Jean Krawkoski is American, loud, relentlessly friendly, and keen to visit. Saying no would be rude. Saying yes feels… inevitable.
When Elsa arrives, politeness is tested, stretched, and eventually throttled. A quick Google search reveals that their guest may not just be socially overwhelming but genuinely dangerous. What follows is a deliciously escalating farce in which social niceties clash with self-preservation, and the British instinct to avoid embarrassment proves far stronger than logic, morality, or common sense.
Complicating matters further is the Lindels’ unendingly dull neighbour (Robin Heron), whose casual disregard for boundaries extends from conversation into the garden itself. A seemingly trivial dispute over hedges and territory becomes another exquisitely awkward pressure point, proving that in middle-class Britain nothing is more dangerous than a shared fence line and too much time to talk about it.
Adding to the chaos is PC Junkin (Charlie Tomson), an affable local policeman whose professional instincts are somewhat dulled by his personal fascination with Elsa. His presence brings reassurance of the law, while simultaneously removing any confidence that it might actually help.
At a key point, the audience will see a live Breaking News broadcast from newscaster (Bridget Rowbottom), from Denver, USA, running alongside the frozen domestic scene.
Stephen Moffat’s comedy skewers the quiet terror of confrontation. The fear of saying the wrong thing. The dread of appearing impolite. The absurd lengths we go to in order to keep the peace, even when the peace is very clearly armed.
This play appealed to me because beneath the laughter is something sharply recognisable. We have all, at some point, smiled through discomfort, nodded along when we should have screamed, or hosted something we desperately wanted to cancel. The Unfriend simply asks: how far would you take that impulse?
As a director, my focus has been on truth within the chaos. The comedy only works if the relationships feel real and the stakes feel human. Elsa is not a cartoon. The Lindels are not fools. Everyone is doing their best with the tools they have, which makes their collective collapse all the more entertaining.
I have been supremely impressed by the work of our three central performers. Sharon Lamont (Debbie Lindel), Alan Bullock (Peter Lindel), and the inimitable Charlotte Ridley (Elsa Jean Krawkoski) have embraced the ferocious pace and precision of Moffat’s writing with extraordinary commitment. To be almost word-perfect a month into rehearsals is astonishing, and their command of character has set the tone for the entire company.
I am also proud to be working with two outstanding young performers in the roles of Rosie and Alex Lindel (Nicole Burrow and Tom Sharp). Their energy, intelligence, and dedication bring a vital heartbeat to the production, and it has been a privilege to support them as they explore their craft with such enthusiasm and ambition.
This is my directing debut after many years treading the boards. Theatre has always been where I feel most alive, even if my memory occasionally has other plans. Stepping into the director’s chair has been both daunting and exhilarating, and I am grateful to St Georges Community Players for the trust, generosity, and humour they have shown throughout this process. I do have the assistance of a seasoned wing woman in the shape of Anne Marie Cairns, who keeps me in check with all details that elude me.
This is a big production requiring a big set build and I think the tech team that will pull this technical production are the best in the business… thanks, in advance tech team!
Performed in a church hall, this production does contain some strong language reflective of modern speech. It is used purposefully, never gratuitously, and always in service of character and comedy. Audience discretion is advised, along with an open mind and a willingness to laugh at ourselves.
We hope you enjoy the show. And if you leave wondering whether you should ever invite anyone round for dinner again… then Moffat has done his job.
St George's Community Players 