Many critics, mainly those with a penchant for the political, have been raving about Caryl Churchill’s Light Shining in Buckinghamshire, proclaiming it a play of timely, political pertinence. The supposed standout scene is the central, near-verbatim peace of theatre, in which Churchill remembers the 1647 Putney Debates. The issues that arise (whether property ownership should equate to political power and what this means for the people who own nothing but lost everything in the Civil War) are certainly historically significant and the same ideas even rumble behind today’s dominant political tract, Cameron’s ‘Big Society’.  But the debates are not the most persuasive moments in this enthralling and challenging play. 

Churchill sketches in the complex political landscape – an England in the midst of a civil war, involving two and later three conflicting sides - by picking out small but fierce moments, modest but complex characters, to colour in between the lines. The ideas discussed in the Putney debates are realised through scenes of piercing emotion, which tell us much more about the hypocrisy, fear and inequality rife in 17th century England than the showpiece debate. 

Early on, as a restless England experiences a post-Civil War climate of suspicion, doubt and hunger, Churchill carefully turns her theatrical kaleidoscope, showing us this socio-political prism from every angle. She consistently inverses expectations with her characters and, in doing so, reflects a volatile and often unjust society, where no one gets what he or she deserves. She reminds us that strong does not mean brave, poor does not mean impoverished, religious does mean saintly and simple does not mean stupid. 

Director Polly Findlay is careful to draw out the contradictions vital to Churchill’s characters. Christopher Harper’s angelic-looking preacher, with golden hair and obscenely innocent eyes, seems virtue personified as he urges lost souls towards his parish. And yet, later, when Harper preaches alone, he is accompanied by the kind of throbbing music normally laid on for a James Bond villain. And it is not Jerusalem he is imagining – but a shit-filled world, full of endless suffering and oppression of the poor.

But Churchill does more than just nudge our consciences with hypocritical or unfortunate characters. She also blasts us with raw emotions which, whilst always a product of the play’s political situation, often come in scenes removed from the main action. 

With these abstract moments, it is as if Churchill has reached into the fire of her play and pulled out white-hot coals. One such moment arrives after the Putney debates, with England in a state of unrest, as the land is divvied out amongst the Parliamentarians. A butcher (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith) strides across the mud-marked cross that runs through the stage, his apron gleaming white and a massive knife held high. ‘You’ve had your lifetime’s meat’, he rages at the rich, who he has seen settling on land fought for by the poor; ‘You cram yourself with their dead children!’ It is a blistering scene, which burns long after the debates have died down. 

Till 7 August 2010