Theatre Review: Till the Stars Come Down at the Nottingham Playhouse

That is the territory explored in her Olivier-nominated Till the Stars Come Down, a funny, tender and increasingly painful family drama set around Sylvia and Marek’s wedding in Mansfield.

Against the backdrop of a deindustrialised former mining community, Sylvia (played by A K Golding) is preparing to marry Marek (Ivan Ivashkin), a Polish immigrant, while her sprawling family gathers to celebrate. What begins with the familiar chaos of a wedding gradually opens into something much bigger, taking in class, prejudice, grief and, above all, the complicated loyalties that bind – and fracture – families.

This production allows us to get uncomfortably close to its characters. We are dropped straight into their world, from the morning chaos of getting ready to the speeches around the wedding table and private conversations unfolding out of sight. Parents, sisters, aunties, uncles and even children – everyone is brought into view. The result is a family portrait that feels intimate and entirely lived-in.

Steel’s dialogue is exceptional. Conversations overlap, arguments erupt, swearing flies and jokes land with such natural rhythm that it often feels less like dialogue written for the stage than real life accidentally unfolding in front of an audience. The local dialect strengthens that authenticity, firmly rooting the family in Mansfield and in a mining community still living with the consequences of industrial decline.

The production’s stagecraft embraces the same intimacy. At times the staging is sparse, allowing quieter conversations to breathe; elsewhere, it transforms into the organised chaos of a wedding reception, complete with rain cascading down around the celebrations. A unique live video camera captures moments from the party, making us feel less like spectators than real guests sitting opposite the top table.

The boundaries between auditorium and stage are repeatedly broken. The theatre aisle becomes the wedding aisle as Sylvia enters with her father, while even a corner among the audience is appropriated for a hurried encounter between Sylvia and Marek. It creates the slightly dangerous sense that this family drama could spill into our seats (and disrupt our own lives) at any moment.

And like any memorable wedding, it is frequently very funny.

Steel finds humour in recognisable family absurdity. Sylvia’s father, played by Howard Ward, recreating an old fond memory, mimicking wrestling crocodiles as Tarzan is gloriously ridiculous; Uncle Pete (Joe Alessi) performing magic tricks at the top table captures exactly the sort of entertainment only an uncle would attempt at a family function; while Auntie Carol (Sadie Shimmin), drunkenly dancing around a cleaner, sends the audience into howls of laughter.

One of the production’s great strengths is its ensemble. Theatre often leaves you talking about one or two standout performances, but here the cast works as a genuine family unit. Each character brings something distinctive, while their relationships feel as though they have existed long before we meet them. The result is tense, funny, romantic, uncomfortable and, at times, enormously stressful.

As the story unravels, Till the Stars Come Down reveals itself to be less about the love between husband and wife than the love between sisters. Beneath the confetti and celebration is a story about sisterhood: what holds it together and what it takes to crack that bond apart. 

Steel also looks beyond the family towards wider divisions in the community. Racism and anti-Polish prejudice sit alongside resentment over jobs, class and the collapse of the mining industry. The play is particularly effective at showing how easily economic pain can be redirected towards those perceived as outsiders – and how much easier it can be to blame another community than confront the forces that created that anger.

That ambition also exposes one of the play’s weaknesses. At times, Till the Stars Come Down has too much it wants to say. Class conflict, prejudice, family loyalty, grief, industrial decline, romantic love and betrayal all compete for space. Many of these threads are fascinating, but their sheer number can dilute their impact. Just as one issue seems ready to deepen, another conflict demands attention.

Perhaps something is fitting about that messiness, though. Families do not confront their problems one at a time, neatly arranged for dramatic convenience. At a wedding, everything comes out at once.

And when it does, this production becomes devastating.

The punchy ending leaves the family caught in the thicket of its pain. It is abrupt, raw and physically uncomfortable. Their screams and tears seem to rattle your bones.

Till the Stars Come Down may occasionally strain beneath the weight of everything it wants to explore, but it is an extraordinarily recognisable portrait of family: affectionate and vicious, hilarious and heartbreaking, capable of closing ranks against the world while simultaneously tearing itself apart from within.

Till the Stars Come Down plays at Nottingham Playhouse until 26 September 2026.