Children’s imaginations are a joy to behold, witnessing a world materialize from nothing to fill their lives with play. But what happens when a child must use that imagination to escape, to fix the world they exist in and create an imagined space where they may finally find peace and safety. Michael Taylor-Broderick invites us as writer and director of The King of Broken Things into this world, of a boy, too young to understand but wise beyond his years. Cara Roberts bears the mantle of this one-hander, darting around the stage with such believable embodiment that for an hour we are all hiding away from the pain together. 

Abandoned by a beloved father, the boy is left in a workshop attempting to repair the broken items that litter the stage, what used to be a bonding experience is now just an attempt at holding onto the life that is disintegrating around them. In an almost breathless hour long monologue, every figment of their life is presented and aggressively described in the bluntest of childish mannerisms – from divorce to war, bullying, loneliness and finally the ultimate break, that of the heart. It’s overwhelming and intense, with Roberts presenting a compelling portrayal of the abstract nature of a child’s mind and the autistic traits present in our hero. Her diminutive stature, haphazard energy and naturalistic tics are so realistic that from the opening lines you are absorbed wholeheartedly. 

Billed as a youth theatre presentation, much was clearly lost on the children in the room, the language was very quick and many of the metaphors too profound for my sentiment let alone that of a younger mind. The script was so clever in moments the action had already moved on before the meaning truly landed. Touching on kintsugi and the art of embracing imperfection, it’s a piece of theatre that transcends, and creates a loss of words for those experiencing it. The broken objects as set pieces, minimal lighting and no sound effects until the closing moments all add to the confronting realism of the piece. 

As the lights dimmed on the final tableau of a sleeping babe and their broken creation literally coming to life, breathless gasps could be heard throughout the room. An indescribable evening of theatre that breaks every rule of children’s theatre and may quite possibly require therapy to come to terms with. Is that a good thing? Maybe… as ultimately we are all a little broken. 

The King of Broken Things is not for everyone, and truly not a light-hearted evening of distraction, but any piece of art that leaves you contemplating the cracks that are worthy of repair within your own life is five stars. 

Review by Eva Tilley

The King of Broken Things is on at Riverside Studios until 4th January. You can find out more and book tickets here.

If you like this review you might also like my review of Deck the Stalls also at Riverside Studios, White Christmas on at the Mill in Sonning and Beauty and The Beast at Marlowe Theatre.