Grenfell: in the words of survivors
National Theatre — Dorfman

THE Grenfell fire of 2017 exposed a systemic failure of our national leadership, laws, democratic rights and basic humanity. 

This resounding truth must now be etched into the consciousness of every single person of sound mind in this country, along with the recognition of a prevailing mindset that cares nothing for the welfare of others, nothing for the dignity of citizenship, nothing for civilised society – no – only the prioritisation of expediency, self-preservation, elitism and – let’s face it – profit margins and gain. 

Grenfell: in the words of survivors at the National Theatre sets out to immortalise this blistering reality with detail from the personal stories of that night. 

Compiled by top-class writer Gillian Slovo and directed by passionate veteran Phyllida Lloyd along with Anthony Simpson-Pike, this is the human tale of the tragedy: the words of witness by nine of those who survived the conflagration that destroyed their homes and the lives of 72 residents.  

Set in the round on a bare stage with significant cardboard boxes as props, the characters introduce themselves and ask us in the audience to do likewise with each other. The emphasis here is on community. And what emerges is the closeness and camaraderie of the inhabitants of the Tower and its surrounding homes. This is not sentimental stuff but a real dynamic that typifies life before the fire. 

This is the kind of community that barely hits the media but creates within itself a kind of happiness seldom seen among the better off. And the people are so switched-on: bright, energetic, living their private, diverse lives with fundamental kindness at their core. 

The words of the characters are as spoken. They are so particular, so realistically quirky and so unique that their veracity sings out. Which is why, when they take us through the happenings on the night, we are with them, heart and soul.   

The editing and juxtaposition of the accounts, together with the theatrical devices of lighting and visual projection, simple movement and immersion in the audience build the drama so that we laugh and cry and feel the urgency. That this play can take us through so momentous and life-threatening an event without melodrama and with complete authenticity is frankly awesome. 

As well as personal accounts, news clips, inquiry evidence and video are used, revealing the abject failure of public servants at every level. Only individual fire officers show heroism, even though their wider organisation is in chaos. And the police, in their ignorance, prioritise the presence of a riot squad over managed evacuation and care. 

Never mind about an inquiry that takes six years and still brings no-one to justice; never mind about the lauded business ethic that still seeks shortcuts and private deals, flouting laws and treating people as worthless commodities. The truth about what really happened at Grenfell Tower blazes like the sun, casting shame on us all and ensuring no-one comes out unscathed.

So thank you to the National Theatre for confirming this:

Guilty: David Cameron. Guilty: Kensington and Chelsea councillors. Guilty: Eric Pickles. Guilty: the architects. Guilty: the cladding makers. Guilty: the building companies – managers and acolytes. Guilty: London Fire Brigade – the bosses and the organisers. Guilty: anyone who knew and didn’t blow the whistle. Guilty: all who just looked the other way.  

And this: as one survivor tells us, what matters above all else is “human life and human decency.” A hope of sorts.  

As we leave the theatre and congregate among the heart-shaped banners outside in silent vigil, we are all activists. And there’s power in that.

But for the guilty, many of whom still run the country or the building trade or social housing, or rent out homes unfit for habitation: you may all walk free – for now. But how do you sleep at night?

This is a play for all time.  

Runs until August 29; info: nationaltheatre.org.uk