Last Updated on June 27, 2026
Family secrets and sibling quibbling in Ben Ockrent’s darkly funny play about the physical and emotional relics we inherit
4.8 out of 5.0 stars“Where there’s a will, there’s a way” is a great motivational phrase. That is, unless there is an inheritance involved…! Throw in four siblings with widely divergent ways of dealing with their family trauma and dynamics, plus a dark family secret, and you have the recipe for an absolutely cracking new black comedy, Relics by Ben Ockrent.
When the curtain rises, we are immediately in the drab living room that most people of my generation would associate with “granny’s house”. There’s a forest of wood-effect panelling, faded beige wallpaper, fringed brown lampshades, the ghost-stain of water leaks past on one wall, and a collection of possessions partly packed into boxes. There is also a recently stripped hospital bed centre stage, and it is immediately clear that we are here in the recent aftermath of a death. One by one, we meet the four siblings who are gathering at their former family home a week after their mother’s funeral to get down to the sad business of dividing up what remains of their parents’ possessions.
We meet Rob (Sam Swainsbury) first as he wanders around the living room trying to be productive (but getting distracted by the hospital bed’s remote control!). One of the two middle siblings, he is the most likeable of the four but a chronic people pleaser who tries to be careful with everyone’s feelings and just wants everyone to get along. The wonderful Sally Phillips (who you will remember from the Bridget Jones films and Smack The Pony) is Olivia – a classic eldest sibling who has strong opinions on absolutely everything; is absolutely sure that her opinion is the reasonable and correct one; and clearly feels the weight of elder siblinghood in the way she tried to organise everyone.
Michelle (Charly Clive) is the archetype of the youngest child, always goading her siblings and performing for the attention that she feels she lacks. And last on stage is prodigal son Jonny (JJ Field, fresh from filming the latest Jack Ryan film), the other middle sibling, in full “finance bro” uniform of quilted bodywarmer, swagger and exaggerated bonhomie. Each character is finely drawn and instantly recognisable as somebody we know (or are related to!), and the family tensions are in evidence before the plot even starts to unfold.
A week after their mother’s funeral, Olivia is bustling about and has clearly taken on the role of materfamilias (in her own mind at any rate), albeit with the faint air of martyrdom after having cared for their mother at the end. His biggest concerns are what the new buyers plan to do with the house and whether she can get a tree protection order on the tree in the garden where grandpa’s ashes are scattered to prevent it being cut down.
When Rob asks whether the buyers are perhaps entitled to their own opinion on cutting down the tree, Olivia says that this is exactly the point of getting the order: “legislating against the opinions of others” – which is largely what she tries to do throughout the play.
There are some nicely observed vignettes that will resonate with anybody who has ever had to clear a departed loved one’s (or any!) house: shenanigans with wayward packing tape; getting distracted by specific items rather than getting on with the task at hand; overpacking boxes with heavy items. Amongst the comedy moments, there is also poignancy: Olivia cries as she moves the hospital bed – likely detested when her mother was alive but now a stark reminder of her absence.
If Olivia and Rob’s relationship seems fairly easy, the arrival of the other two siblings adds prickliness. Michelle is outspoken and confrontational, adopting an insouciant rebellious teenager persona whilst constantly needling her older siblings. She believes Jonny won’t even bother showing up (“he never does”) even as Olivia defends him. When he does, Jonny swaggers in fresh from a flight as if this is just another social occasion rather than a sombre duty (and brings a fabulous, inappropriate gift of a golden pineapple filled with alcohol for Olivia).
In an awkward ritual familiar to everyone who has ever lost a parent, the children must now agree on how to divide up the contents of the house. Olivia has, of course, thought of a plan which involves each sibling taking a turn to say what they want and why. Rob reads his list and gives the kind of sentimental reasons one is expected to give – childhood memories and such – but also wants grandpa’s medals because he is the only sibling with children to pass them on to.
Jonny asks for the piano he used to play as a child, and then for a painting in grandma’s bedroom. Michelle is immediately suspicious, as he was terrified of the painting as a child, and under her cross-examination, his reason is soon laid bare: the painting he always detested now comes with the gloss of potential financial value and may be a “lost” masterpiece.
When the other siblings accuse him of greed, his retort is: “Greed is good! It’s what got our ancestors out of loincloths!” But it does not take much more questioning to reveal far darker questions about the painting’s provenance and how it came to be in grandma’s bedroom – and thus the denouement is set up at the end of Act 1.
In Act 2, although initially horrified by Jonny’s brazen greed and willingness to cheat his siblings, each sibling reveals a reason why the money raised from a potential sale of the painting might change their life. Olivia could pay the estate duty and keep the family home. Rob reveals trouble at home and how the money could help him see more of his disabled son.
Michelle could get out of teaching at her deprived inner-city school, and Jonny… well, let’s just say material greed remains his motive. A lot of themes are touched on in Act 2: debate about looted art and why the British Museum’s custody of the Elgin Marbles is “protecting them” while individual looting is plain theft; the intrinsic value of art (do you really like that Picasso or do you love its price tag?); and the complicated reasons why we place a value on or feel the need to keep family heirlooms.
There is also the tense family dynamic resulting from one sibling effectively giving up their own life to care for an ageing parent while others built their own lives, and the moral deficit in which this places the other siblings.
As this family pressure cooker comes to temperature, family histories and childhood recollections are questioned. The heartbreak and compromises involved in growing up are laid bare, and old familiar childhood grievances and hierarchies are slipped into like a well-worn pair of shoes. The siblings’ intimate knowledge of each other’s vulnerabilities also means they are able to deliver barbs that find their mark as accurately as deadly arrows. But while each sibling thinks they know the others inside out by virtue of a shared childhood, it turns out that they do not know each other (or themselves) as well as they may think.
All is not all doom and gloom, though – far from it! The script sparkles throughout with dark humour and hilariously believable sibling dialogue. There is a smattering of physical comedy early on and a lot of relatable comedic family moments. Michelle also delivers a delicious lip-sync rendition of Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart. But it is the absolutely chaotic yet cinematic “slow motion” sequence towards the end of the play that deserves an award all of its own.
I won’t spoil the surprise, but it is one of the best things I have seen on stage in a long time and absolutely perfectly executed by all four cast members. It’s poetry in motion, and both Fight Director Bret Yount and Movement Director Chi-San Howard deserve kudos! The ending is neither neat nor trite but ultimately cautiously hopeful, asking the question whether once we have broken down the masks of who we pretend to be, it might be possible from there to start afresh.
The cast are all outstanding – seasoned professionals who make this look easy and in many ways closer to understated film acting than exaggerated stage acting. Michael Longhurst’s direction is excellent, and the play never loses pace. The script is a delight – Ben Ockrent’s ear for natural dialogue that never sounds stilted is spot on – and the script fizzes with energy and wit, yet transitions to weightier topics without skipping a beat.
The balance of humour and pathos is marvellous and perfectly evokes the weird limbo of siblings being together after the death of a parent – still wanting to laugh about silly things but awkward because the situation demands a sombre tone. The dynamics will ring true to anybody who has lost a parent, has siblings, and has had to grapple with the question of what the real value of family heirlooms is. Hard relate, as the kids are saying on TikTok. The entire production of Relics is a delight – catch it while you can!
Relics runs at the Hammersmith Lyric Theatre from 18 June to 18 July. Shows start at 19h30, and the runtime is 2h10m including interval. Tickets can be booked here.
Looking for more theatre? Check out our west end theatre previews for the remainder of 2026.
Hammersmith Lyric Theatre
Lyric Square
King St
London
W6 0QL
Box office:
Tel. 020 8741 6850
E-mail: tickets@lyric.co.uk
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