Last Updated on October 9, 2026
Antebellum ancestor drama powerfully evokes the complications of legacy
4.0 out of 5.0 starsAt the opening of Blood of my Blood, Talulah (Jodie Campbell) sings ‘You got a right to the tree of life’. She is a young Black British woman who has come to South Carolina to conjure her ancestor. The set, upstairs at the Royal Court, consists of a tree, the focus of Talulah’s incantation and an old slave cabin which is now an Airbnb where she is staying.
She reads her family tree which is scribbled at the back of a well worn Bible; it goes back to an enslaved woman, Ginnie, who we see in the cabin nursing her child Lula. From the outset the play has established in a few brush strokes a strong symbolism and an intriguing premise; simultaneously evoking 1862 South Carolina with the present day. Fascinatingly, this story is also based on the writer ‘s (Joy Nesbit) research into her own ancestor history.
Ginnie (Ronke Adékọluẹ́jọ́) is the mother of five children and as she nurses Lula she reassures her that they will be safe from the distant cannon fire and her father will soon be home to comfort her. The Yankees are close but having never left the plantation she is cut off from the wider world. The father is in fact Doc (Patrick Vaill) who is the white owner of the plantation. Ginnie and Doc have had a ten year relationship and its portrayal is exemplary.
Moments of passion and vulnerability between them are under cut by the underlying perversity of his ownership and ultimate power over her. However, it also shows that Ginnie’s relation to him is complex. Does she genuinely care for him and even love him or is this a method of survival, an act of resistance? Nesbit has written that she is interested in complex characters which avoid the stereotypes associated with the antebellum south. This is magnificently realised in Ginnie.
Despite the subject matter Blood of my Blood is certainly not devoid of lightness and humour. The scenes with the contemporary owners and Talulah mine a vein of humour we have seen many times – cringe moments of white deafness, ‘Sometimes we use this as the bridal suite’ – but it works. Hannah Morrish is brilliant as Nora, the well meaning but overbearing superhost.
Vaill doubles as the present day owner James Good, who despite the well meaning persona of a history academic, gets edgy and aggressive when pushed by Talulah about the morality of his ancestors position. The doubling suggests not only biological descendancy; some of his ticks and mannerisms are carried over from Doc but also the brittleness of liberal posturing on the back of generations of racial oppression.
Ginnie’s close female friend Bertha (Karene Peter) is a young enslaved woman who while supportive of Ginnie is eager for change. She is secretly seeing a Yankee soldier and brings news of Lincoln’s Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation which announced freedom for slaves from January 1st 1863. She is not afraid to converse in Tutnese which Ginnie realises is dangerous and also encourages Ginnie to ‘Unfix’ herself when she is next pregnant.
The interchange between Ginnie and Bertha is so natural and evidences Nesbitt’s virtuosic handling of different idioms and registers across the different characters. It might have been good if she had let herself go a bit more linguistically. The incantation, the singing and the general poetry of the writing feels it could have been pushed further. In part this might be due to the fact that this is a very full play; there is a lot of story, symbol and exposition to get through and while deftly handled there is little chance to dwell.
The play builds inevitably to whether Talullah will indeed be able to conjure her ancestor and communicate with her. They have some close encounters but something is blocking her. A young woman academic is working at the plantation and befriends Talulla, this is Niecey also played by Peter. When asked why she wants to talk to her ancestor Talulla reveals she is pregnant and is unsure whether to keep the child. Their discussion is in someways a microcosm of the play, Talullah is critical of Niecey working for the Goods and for being on a plantation.
Niecey suggests that we have to embrace the whole picture, therein we can also see the humanity and resistance which are important for us going forward as we engage with the legacy of slavery. Following her advice Talullah finally gets to be with Ginnie. This is what Nesbit is attempting – a play which neither revolts us so we look away or sugar coats in order to make us feel comfortable. As Niecy says of the plantation ‘this place is an open wound. And we need it.’
Tatenda Shamiso’s direction is excellent and despite the pressure of doubling and time slip, always felt tight. The set and costume design both by Natalie Pryce were also a highlight. The end of the play feels a bit diffuse and the dual decisions made by Talullah and Ginnie felt a tad oblique. That said, Blood of my Blood is wonderfully challenging but not necessarily in the way you might expect a play about slavery to be. Nesbit reminds us forcefully that the Tree of Life spreads over all of us and in its shade we confront our ancestral legacy and make our decisions about bringing life into this world. The tree in this case is appropriately a Carolina Silverbell.
Royal Court Theatre
Sloane Square, London, SW1W 8AS
October 8th – 7th November
Tickets from £15
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