Review of ‘Cleansed’ (2026, Almeida): “Impeccable performance nearly make up for blemished play”

Someone near you will leave during the performance. That, I can guarantee. It’s not because it’s a bad watch. But it’s a tough one — a really tough one. What else can we expect from a play written by Sarah Kane other than shock and narrative uncertainty? Not only don’t we know what’s going to happen. Sometimes, we might not know what is happening at all. Albeit clearer than 4:48, a haunting piece for reasons beyond its craft, Cleansed is still widely open to interpretation. But its appeal remains as niche.

Drug addiction, family loss, and brutality collide with love and self-growth in different forms. I would advise everyone not to get their hopes up. As much as some characters demonstrate fortitude in one way or another, this is not the kind of uplifting tale where resilience is rewarded — quite the contrary. Most of them will only endure pain and pain alone. And as viewers, we are passive sufferers of their torture — powerlessly witnessing the horrific acts performed against their dignity, mental health, and physical integrity.

Some analyses consider the plot a hallucination. Seeing so much inhumanity condensed into roughly 80 minutes explains why. But it’s also a valid point of view if we consider the stages its protagonist, Grace, goes through while grieving the recent death of her brother. Some may argue that the script crosses the line while exploring those feelings (some scenes feature incestuous sex, others show a man splurting blood after having his tongue chopped off). I would agree that some of them come off as unnecessary. However, the excessive tone is also an accurate depiction of people’s rawest emotions, presented with unfiltered viscerality.

Although the tension is strong, admittedly resulting in a few nail-biting moments, the pathos doesn’t really solidify. As much as we can understand the personages’ anguish, it never penetrates on a deeper level beyond the instinctive reaction any normal human being would have when seeing somebody in agony. There is a path some characters walk along, but it isn’t painted in a way that’s palpable and resonant. And as a result, the savagery permeating the recount becomes repetitive — seemingly caused by the author’s sadistic taste.

Some other segments might have had a more startling effect than when the play was first released. By the end of the play, Grace goes through gender reassignment surgery to keep the memory of his late brother alive. It’s still a drastic move considering her motives. But I’d like to think that at least some sections of today’s society perceive trans identities with more acceptance than they did back in the late 90s, but simultaneously diminishes the story’s dramatic impact.

In any case, this production should be regarded as a proud achievement. Its uncomplicated staging, credited to Madeleine Girling, masterfully portrays the sense of danger and bleakness that define the play’s universe, building a robust, cohesive atmosphere while also conveying versatility and dynamism.

At the same time, most of the company delivers an extraordinary performance, teeming with truthfulness and gut-level quality. Among them, the highest mention goes to Leo Bill (Tinker) and Perla Chanda (Grace), whose extraordinary realism is even more praiseworthy given the role’s extreme nature. In addition, Stuart Thomson makes a memorable appearance as Robin, capturing the character’s vulnerable grit with flawed but sufficient command.

Defenders will say art is meant to be challenging. Detractors will claim there’s no real challenge in it apart from its gratuitous graphic violence. In all fairness, it’s difficult to take sides when it comes to Cleansed. It’s not a life-changing experience. But it isn’t empty inside. And something pulsates within it — sometimes, reverberating. With the right rinse, the piece could have evolved into something genuinely cathartic. And perhaps, purifying as well.

All pictures credit to Marc Brenner.

Cleansed plays at London’s Almeida Theatre until 29 August. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara