Based on the novel by Patrick Ness and Siobhan Dowd, A Monster Calls revolves around how 13-year-old Conor O’Malley struggles to come to terms with his mother’s declining health and is guided by a tree-like monster that forces him to confront his “deepest truth”.
From the moment the first eerie notes played, UCL Drama Society’s production of A Monster Calls cast an unshakable spell over its audience. It’s hard to say what stole the show—Felix May’s powerful portrayal of Conor, the play’s poignant depiction of love and isolation, or the stunning set, light, and sound design. The latter was some of UCL Stage Crew’s best work to date.
As the ensemble whispered menacingly at Conor in the first nightmare sequence, the atmosphere thickened, flickering lights heightening the sense of unease. The incredible direction by Lewis Long (assisted by Audrey Lau and Harry Rennell), alongside Aza Too’s striking movement direction, ensured that every motion carried weight. The ensemble embodied both the extension of the Monster and Conor’s inner turmoil, coiling around him like a living nightmare until his breaking point—his mother’s death in his dream, where he is helpless to save her.
Conor was both fragile and fiercely brave, his resilience unwavering even in the face of the Monster’s resonant, threatening voice. Jack Godwin, who plays the towering human form of the Monster, is both frightening and oddly comforting. The dynamic between the Monster and Conor shifted between confrontation and companionship. The Monster’s refrain—“Your truth”—became a looming spectre, urging Conor towards the inevitable.
The storytelling laden within the play was masterful. The first tale of the ‘good’ prince and the ‘evil’ queen, the second of the apothecary and the parson, and the third of the invisible man – each parable added layers to Conor’s reality. The third story was particularly impactful, with the Monster taking control of Conor as he assaults his bully Harry (David Harrison’s sneering presence was spot-on) and the ensemble mirrors him with every push and shove. Conor wanted to be seen, and in that moment, he was—but not in the way he’d hoped.
The tension in the theatre was often suffocating. In the final nightmare, Conor and his mother (played by the incredible Olivia Ng) were lifted in the air, holding onto each other, but this bond was short-lived. The ensemble gripped Conor, his screams reverberating through the theatre as he clung to the ropes, finally confessing he could not take it anymore. The crescendo was unbearably raw, and the climax was shattering. The Monster, surprised at the confession’s simplicity, once imposing, descended to Conor’s level. In a moment of devastating clarity, he tells Conor that pain is isolating and that wanting it to end is only human.
In the final scene, Conor held his mother in his arms as she slipped away, the Monster vanishing with her, not returning at the usual 12:07 A.M. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the quiet sniffles in the audience—mine included.
UCL Drama Society’s A Monster Calls was not just a performance—it was an experience, a reckoning, a heart-rending gem of a play
