What is Europe? A continent, an idea, a set of lines on a map? When David Greig wrote his 1994 play, during the break-up of Yugoslavia, its title meant something slightly different than it does now. As we ask again what exactly Europe is – and whether or not we as Brits belong to it – James Brining’s new production feels topical without ever straining for contemporary relevance.
Greig’s play takes place in a small border town, on a platform where the trains are no longer stopping. Once a busy hub of customs and passport checks, now it’s a forgotten, left-behind sort of place – a blur that most people pass on their way somewhere else. As stationmaster Fret protests the imminent station closure, his assistant Adele watches the trains and dreams of escape. When two refugees arrive, Adele is fascinated by them and their travels, but her husband Berlin and his recently laid-off mates can only see a threat.
This could be any small town in Europe, fearful of change and hostile to outsiders. Amanda Stoodley’s design evokes a grey, declining every-place, its muted colour palate broken only by the neon sign of the town’s one bar.
The train tracks, front and centre, dominate the set, a reminder of the other places and other lives that Tessa Parr’s wistful Adele desperately longs for. Intermittent rushes of sound and light herald the express trains, indifferently passing through. The nearby border, meanwhile, is as impenetrable as barbed wire and as unfixed as the chalk lines traced across the stage – easily blurred, erased and redrawn.
Some of Greig’s metaphors – prowling wolves and deep, dark forests – are a tad heavy-handed, but his complex portrayal of the continent still resonates. For reluctant refugee Sava, Europe means dignity, even when bombs are falling in the suburbs. For Adele, it’s the freedom to travel from city to city. And for Berlin, played with chillingly lucid anger by Dan Parr, Europe is “us”, pitched against a foreign and indistinct “them”. As those different meanings continue to clash, Greig’s play remains grimly compelling.
At Leeds Playhouse until 3 November.