This Much I Know @ Hampstead Theatre, London

Interweaving history, psychology, philosophy, ethics, academia and relationships, a small cast in Jonathan Spector’s play all the parts — sometimes between themselves — at the same time. Very timey-wimey Soviet history style, go with it as this is a rewarding watch.

In one strand of the play, an American university professor’s wife suddenly leaves. We then track the wife’s journey across Russia in search of her past, delving into her interviews and research. She is in search of her grandmother, who knew Stalin’s daughter as a friend and classmate…and those who knew her. How will she get people to tell her what they really know?

In another strand, the same professor encounters a brilliant student raised in a deeply nationalistic, racist and anti-semitic background, who is learning to question and think differently. (Although the student would see himself as nuanced and even moderate in his beliefs, although being deeply far right).

Then there is Joseph Stalin’s daughter sharing her history and her politicised love life. Is she a person or a walking, talking symbol of something? And then there is her influence on her father (or not)…

Unexpectedly these stories are all interconnected. How much do we know? How conscious and are how culpable are we in the ideas and ethics we espouse? How do we come to believe what we believe and how do we change our minds and behaviours? How much are we allowed to change how and what we think, what we know and how much must we continue to be cancelled for opinions expressed and published online in the past? Should we be?

Stoppard-like, it makes you work and think really hard, whilst time-travelling backwards and forwards in the narratives. But it’s worth it. There are also screen appearances by famous faces and world leaders! Contrasting extremist schools of thinking through stories and personal journeys, the playwright invites us to consider who we really think we are and what we really know. How do we know it and why? Whilst it can go a bit simulation theory at times and in the form of philosophical lectures almost argue all of us in the room out of existence and physicality, at the same time it probes how any of us get to be who we are.

Disappointingly the ending was weak and cruel in suggesting culpability for the actions of others in one person’s changed beliefs and stance, publicly away from extremism. The question was left open here — but blame did seem to be silently apportioned. I would have liked a stronger ending here as this was deeply unfair to this particular character. Though it makes you think — how far are we to blame for the actions of others. (In the ending here, it felt rather like blaming JFK for Lee Harvey Oswald’s own decision to murder him). Because the silent answer to this question seemed to be — don’t change your beliefs if people are going to behave badly or murderously because of them; if you do, look what you’ll be responsible for. Which the whole play had been arguing against, having depicted people changing and developing, even within extremist thought patterns, societies and systems.

Esh Alladi, Natalie Klamar and Oscar Adams were riveting in multi-roles, especially Natalie Klamar who had to switch from hair up to hair down pretty quickly and swift costume changes. They utilised the space so well, even popping up in the audience to be journalists asking questions at points.