The Revlon Girl at Park Theatre

While grief is universal, everyone copes with it in their own way. Some get angry, some smile through the pain. Some turn to God, others to the supernatural. Some cling to small moments of comfort – like a new shade of lipstick. All of the above are reflected in The Revlon Girl, directed at the Park Theatre by Maxine Evans. Inspired by real events, Neil Anthony Docking’s tender, bighearted and surprisingly funny play offers a snapshot of the aftermath of a truly terrible loss.

The 1966 Aberfan disaster occurred when the collapse of a coal tip in rural Wales buried a school and several houses, killing 116 children and 28 adults. The Revlon Girl starts its story in the months after, as a group of bereaved mothers invite a waifish make-up seller to give them a demonstration. There’s cheery Sian, with an effortful smile, and nervous Maralyn, who’s taken comfort in the occult. Rona simmers with righteous rage, while vicar’s wife Jean, is more stern. Their loss is shared, but their ways of coping are not, so as the make-up chair turns confessional, the women bond and fight in equal measure over their unique experiences of suffering.

Act I is remarkably funny, considering it’s a play so explicitly about the death of children. Sian is wonderfully honest and kind, but also comedically “dozy” by her own admission. Rona effs and jeffs her way about the place, offering barbs that are as wickedly funny as they are hurtful. Docking perfectly executes an old writing trick: endear the characters to the audience in Act I, and the later emotional blows land all the harder.

And land they do, as each character movingly represents a different method of coping. It’s hard not to pity Jean as she clings to the idea of “God’s plan”, even as she battles with her feelings over a new pregnancy. Sian’s persistent smile is revealed as merely a facade when it finally – inevitably – cracks. The cast are strong across the board, but it’s Charlotte Gray who stands out as Sian, subtly hinting at the fragility of her merry demeanour.

Docking weaves in some searing commentary about the largely preventable nature of the disaster. There’s an intriguing parallel between Maralyn’s mystic belief that the event was preordained, and very real warnings about the possibility of the collapse years before it happened. The townsfolk’s repeated calls for the removal of the tips had been ignored because of cost concerns. So can one really judge Rona’s outwardly callous hankering for compensation, when, as she puts it, it was only ever about money anyway?

There are a few moments where the seams of the play are a little visible – a segue to a reminiscence that’s a little too vague; an argument a little too confected. It’s also a play that doesn’t quite know how to resolve itself; grief that deep tends not to follow a neat narrative arc. But on the whole, it’s a wonderfully warm, moving affair.

Maggie O’Shea
Photos: Courtesy of Park Theatre

The Revlon Girl is at Park Theatre from 29^th October until 14^th November 2026. For further information or to book, visit the theatre’s website here.