Donbas Play Review: A Ukrainian Family Fractures on the Brink of Invasion
Olga Braga's stark new play, Donbas, winner of Theatre503's international playwriting award, presents a grim portrait of war in Ukraine. This smartly wrought and tightly packed production clings to the moments before Russia's full-scale invasion of the Donbas region in 2022, conjuring a bleak microcosm of conflict within a cramped Ukrainian home.
High Tensions and Intimate Moments
Every element of this sometimes overloaded show works hard, with already high tensions within the household escalating as the external threat of Russian occupation creeps closer. Director Anthony Simpson-Pike makes ambitious use of the small stage in his first show as artistic director, while Niall McKeever's set feigns simplicity only to rip itself impressively apart when invasion strikes.
Dreams are already shattered when we meet the cast. Jack Bandeira stalks the stage as Sashko, a young man with hungry eyes recently released from a Russian jail. Desperate not to give an inch to the invaders, he clashes with his coiled father Seryoga, played by Philippe Spall, who is willing to stick to Russian rules if it means survival.
Machismo and Tenderness in a War-Torn Setting
In a play of machismo and squared shoulders, which occasionally devolve into shouting matches, the finest moments are those of small tendernesses. When Sashko asks his father's Moldovan girlfriend Marianca, portrayed with appeasing warmth by Sasha Syzonenko, to teach him how to correctly pronounce her name, their shoulders sink into each other in a rare moment of intimacy.
Heritage matters profoundly in this household. Characters speak of pure-blood Ukrainians and unwelcome neighbours based on birthplace rather than lifelong residence. A jolly Steve Watts and a flirtatious Liz Kettle provide a too-brief and much-needed reprieve as kindly neighbours, adding depth to the community dynamics.
Expanding Scope and Emotional Depth
The play's urgency is occasionally slowed by Sashko's folkloric stories, told to calm a neighbour's silent, watchful granddaughter. Meanwhile, a gun is trained on the family's street as Bandeira and Spall double up as soldiers keeping watch in an abandoned house. These secondary characters expand the scope of the play but also stretch its heart; they are somewhat thinly drawn to pack in all the action, with insufficient time given to feel individual agony.
In Sashko's narratives, he explains what it means to have a good death rather than a wasted one. By depicting the random ugliness of war, Donbas reminds us that this meagre hope is just another story we tell ourselves to endure. The production runs at Theatre503 in London until 28 February, offering a poignant reflection on family, conflict, and resilience.
