What do you do when the past is too painful to remember?

Kindertransport explores this question through the story of Eva, a young Jewish girl separated from her German mother and father, who was sent to England as part of the Kindertransport rescue operation of 1938.

The set, simple in design, is key to this exploration. Set in an old attic, one side of the stage sees the past played out while the other bears witness to the present. This created a poignant echo between the adult on the right and the events of her past on the left. In a single moment we saw the young Eva and her mother preparing for her departure, while simultaneously adult Eva was across the stage struggling with her emotions and memories as she was preparing her own daughter (who is unaware of her mother’s history) to leave home for the first time. There was a risk that this slipping between past and present would be clunky and disjointed, yet at all times it was subtle, seamless and very effective.

There are some starkly candid moments that make for realistic and difficult viewing. Discussing the morals of a ham sandwich, the child wrangles with a clash of cultures. In the end we see an identity overwritten partly by convenience, and partly through a desire to block out the pain of the past and to remove all traces of a former self. 

The play is brought to life by a strong cast. Emelia Marshall Lovsey as the young Eva manages to convincingly make the transition from a child to the 16-year-old, determined to cast herself anew as the English Evelyn, and ultimately to forget. This however is a quest she never quite manages, and Cathy McCluskey, the adult Eva, summons a depth of emotion and expression that makes the turmoil of her character clear to see.

Cumulating in an emotive clash, Eva is forced by her daughter to confront the past and take ownership of the history she has denied.

Unfortunately, it felt as though the end rose up rather suddenly. There was an unsettling feeling that there was more here to be explored, that I wasn’t yet ready for the end. This, however, may be a rather clever ploy on Samuel’s part: a continuation of the theme that nobody is ever quite ready to leave.

All in all this was a subtle but powerful play that brings to bear the importance of identity, and of remembering not only who one is, but where one has come from, as well.