This amalgamation of two National Theatre monologues makes for an unflinching, highly impressive examination of race, identity and toxic masculinity
Death of England began life in 2014 as a short drama commissioned by London’s Royal Court theatre and the Guardian as part of a series of microplays. Written by Roy Williams and Clint Dyer, it then became two National Theatre productions. The first was an expansion of the original monologue performed, to rave reviews, again by Rafe Spall as white, working-class Michael, formed in the crucible of a family led by a father who wants “to take our country back from the blacks”. The second was a monologue from Delroy (played by Michael Balogun, who also received rave reviews despite being the understudy), Michael’s best friend – unheard during Michael’s outpouring of grievances, doubts and the beginning of wrestling with a legacy he knows, somewhere, is not all that it should have been.
Delroy’s story takes in his childhood as a black British boy, life as a bailiff and (recently arrested) man, and his relationship with a white woman (Michael’s sister), with whom he is expecting a child. It examines and unpicks issues of identity, belonging, privilege and existence in a country that rejects, excludes and brings negative connotations to bear on you at every turn. Death of England: Delroy opened and closed on the same night in November 2020 – a victim of lockdown measures – although it was streamed to wider audiences thereafter.