The Bloomsbury Studio set the stage for an ambitious retelling of Adam and Eve’s exile, Falling from Heaven, an original play by Kate Raymond that blends satire and modern existentialism with a great dose of humour. Right from the outset, the audience is thrust into a world where the ancient meets the contemporary—thunder rumbles, a river flows, and the voice of God (Upasana Shetty) sternly commands: Never come back. The weight of banishment looms over Adam and Eve (played by Sofia Waring and Sofia Prudencio), but Eve, in a moment of defiant optimism, simply declares: I believe we begin again.
What follows is a delightful and disorienting adventure through the 21st century, where Adam and Eve are not relics of the past but living, breathing enigmas to those around them, with no knowledge of the modern world whatsoever. The couple in Dublin that takes them in offer warm hospitality—with a quip: Forget the Last Supper, I bring you the first brunch. This humorous yet profound exchange sets the tone for a play that constantly oscillates between levity and philosophical depth.
And in a bold narrative choice, God is a woman. Who seems like a toxic mother relishing the drama from her heavenly perch with a bucket of popcorn. She is petty, vindictive and even the Devil (yes, Satan and God have quite peaceful chats in the play) feels more pity for the couple than God herself. Sure, the play is meant to be a comedy, but it reduces these two characters to simply caricatures instead of exploring them, especially female divinity, in a more nuanced way.
The play is packed with hilarious commentary on modernity and religious symbolism. When New York is mentioned as the Big Apple, Adam and Eve recoil in horror—a joke that lands perfectly. The absurdity escalates when the couple embarks on a journey to the Met Gala (which is well, an interesting choice), where an airport personnel spirals into an existential crisis, rambling about the suspension of time. It mirrors Adam and Eve’s own displacement, the world’s first couple thrust into a world removed from their origins.
At the Met Gala, the male gaze takes centre stage. Eve, in a striking green dress embroidered with a golden snake, becomes the object of desire for the likes of Chris Martin and Harry Styles, who shamelessly vie for her attention. Adam, in contrast, is humbled by his lack of importance in a world that fixates on Eve, creating a narrative about temptation.
However, Adam and Eve start falling apart as the play goes on. Adam becomes aware of the twisted turns religion has taken and is met by bureaucratic resistance, his paradise is lost. Eve, on the other hand, sees the world as a place of shifting narratives, where truth is fluid and never absolute.
The most interesting part of the play is during a therapy session, when Adam is accused of attempting to reconstruct his childhood conditions on Earth—an unconscious longing for his time with God. When he flares up, he reveals something raw and startling: I never even asked for Eve. It was just me and God in the beginning. This moment reframes the biblical tale, because what would it mean for the world’s first couple to separate? Eve has her own identity crisis, and is held in court for being the first sinner and in a powerful moment she says she would do it all over again: And this time, I would swallow.
In an unexpected twist, Adam explores his sexuality, embarking on a date with an American man (Maya Christophers). The phrase Adam and Steve is played with tongue-in-cheek, yet it becomes a crucial moment of self-exploration for Adam, who grapples with fear and self-imposed limitations. In the end, after several discoveries and revelations, Adam and Eve begin their relationship again.
It is definitely well acted, and the studio was perfect for this play due to its intimacy. Prudencio shone as a fiercely defiant Eve, while Waring brilliantly embodied Adam’s quiet despair. It would be wrong not to mention Savaane Maas, who seamlessly embodied a wide range of characters—quite literally making them her own—from the lovable Irish husband to the Devil himself.
However, the main problem with the play is that it tries to do too much. It deals with the complexities of love, male gaze, Freudian relationships, faith, free will, and the list goes on. It is so packed that it spills over. The sheer density of its themes makes it feel as though the play is bursting at the seams, struggling to give each idea the depth it deserves. But at its core, it is about two people falling apart and coming back together, and how their love transcends time.
Falling from Heaven is a blend of mythology, modern satire, and existential musings, offering both riotous humour and deeply introspective moments. With a sharp script and bold performances, it is an experience that lingers—much like the taste of a forbidden fruit.
