Angry young people criticising the government. Their ideas misunderstood and traduced. Arrests, bullying and intimidation. All familiar enough. But in Germany in 1942? Well, yes. The Sentence dramatises the anti-Nazi campaigning of a determined group of Munich students. It’s a taut, engaging and highly impressive work. The play’s 17-year-old author Jessica Valentine has imagined with much skill the interrogations and threats unleashed on these brave young people after their arrest. Moreover, she has articulated well their amazing defiance in strong speeches.
The story of these student activists isn’t widely enough known. But this group – The White Rose, comprising Sophie and Hans Scholl, Christoph Probst and a substantial network of other activists – stands out. Calling for active resistance to the Nazis’ injustice and oppression, and its persecution of Jews, the organisation published and distributed leaflets from mid-1942 to February 1943, when its leaders were arrested. The Sentence expresses their hope and idealism.
As live theatre, the imagined confrontation of ideas is a challenging one. How to dramatise what seems a one-sided situation, where we know the justice of the young students, and the cruel suppression which ended their protests? Perhaps the greatest challenge is to make the oppressor more than a cardboard cutout villain. As Sophie, Eloise Kirkby conveys some poignancy in understanding well what will happen to her, to her brother Hans (Mark Dale-Jones), and to their friend Christoph Probst (Josh Chapman). Their mission is, ‘To express what others dare not utter’, to, ‘light a fire’.
Valentine’s words are eloquent, and their delivery by the young cast confident and fluent. This is an impressive production, especially given the youth of those involved. But we do wish for the fuller dramatic realisation of the central conflict. While the play as a whole works, more attention to stagecraft would bring rewards, such as a stronger sense of setting, and thereby of character. The minimal lighting cues and the emptiness of the set limit the dramatic experience. This is especially a shame as the writer’s most creative ingredient is to imagine the life of the Nazi functionary, Roland Friesler (Rufus Shutter). His disquiet at what he must do – execute the young dissidents – begins to emerge in a quiet scene with wife Marian (Maisie Sorrell). Talk of their home and family adds nuance and depth, and we cannot help feeling that a stronger sense of the domestic would contrast tellingly with the bleak cell, where (we assume) the prisoner-dissidents are held. It is not churlish to imagine this play enhanced by the added flavour of such stagecraft. Symbolic objects, perhaps a musical score – however spare – might bring into clearer focus the dilemma momentarily addressed in this scene with Roland and Marian.
Valentine’s drama goes some way to evoking the human dimension of those darkest of times. It is a remarkable achievement by a 17-year-old of great promise, working with fellow school pupils whose discipline and engagement with the text and a full audience is highly commendable.
The Sentence has now completed its run