Cloud 9 at the National Theatre

Caryl Churchill’s landmark 1979 script has always carried a big reputation for breaking theatrical rules, and Dominic Cooke’s revival at the National Theatre fully leans into that legacy. It’s a sharp political satire that uses a fractured timeline to pit the suffocating hypocrisy of the Victorian British Empire against the radical sexual liberation of 1970s London.

The main idea is to show how the rigid power dynamics of our colonial past directly poisoned the generations that followed. However, it’s a tricky thematic balance to strike today – while the auditorium is filled with laughter, some of the broader, farcical jokes surrounding colonial exploitation definitely feel like a product of their time.

To match this contrast between the old world and the new, the production relies a lot on Miriam Buether’s cleverly crafted stage design to visually track the social breakdown. The first act drops us into a stiff, traditional household physically hemmed in by a wild jungle. It’s a brilliant visual trick that reflects the characters themselves – neat and proper on the outside, but completely surrounded by chaos. But when the public returns after the interval, that framing is in total clutter. The heavy velvet curtain and stage arch are broken apart and scattered messily across the floor, opening up the space. Front-row audience members with stage tickets are even invited up to sit right around the playing area, closely surrounding the cast while the theatre is converted into an intimate, immersive 1970s landscape.

Admittedly, juggling heavy political messages with a time-bending narrative can get confusing fast. Because the characters only age 25 years while the calendar jumps ahead a full century, the connection between the two acts may be a bit tricky to follow initially. The link between the two halves feels loose, meaning the production may feel like two separate plays sharing a stage together rather than a single, continuous journey for the most part.

Any narrative knot is quickly smoothed over by the infectious energy of the ensemble, who keep the evening incredibly lively. Sam Troughton anchors this madness perfectly, executing a brilliantly funny double-turn. He begins as Clive, a pompous colonial patriarch, before transforming in the second half into Cathy, a petulant, screaming five-year-old girl. It is a wild, bonkers piece of physical comedy that highlights the play’s underlying absurdity. Alongside him, Ellen Robertson shines in the second act as an older, modern-day Betty discovering a more tender sense of happiness and independence.

The production finds its groove when the performance breaks the fourth wall, welcoming front-row guests directly into an interactive, rhythmic musical sequence. Even if the shifting timelines and older tropes leave viewers struggling to follow the narrative thread, the electric acting and bold design make it a fascinating piece of theatre.

Dionysia Afolabi
Photos: Johan Persson

Cloud 9 is at the National Theatre from 11^th November until 13^th January 2027. For further information or to book, visit the theatre’s website here.

Watch the trailer for Cloud 9 at the National Theatre here: