All My Pretty Ones | Birmingham Rep

All My Pretty Ones, presented by White Bear Productions at the Birmingham Rep, is a poignant and powerful exploration of history, memory, and the enduring impact of atrocity. Running from the 14th to 17th May, this moving production delves into the haunting legacy of the Oradour-sur-Glane massacre, in which an entire French village was destroyed by Nazi forces in 1944.

The narrative follows three medical students—Miriam from Germany, Marie Christine from France, and Steve from Britain (specifically Birmingham, to the delight of local audience members)—who, stranded during a storm, find shelter in a guesthouse owned by the mysterious Maurice. As they settle in, the house begins to reveal its secrets: wartime artefacts, faded photographs, and echoes of distant music. These elements gradually draw the characters—and the audience—back to 1944, as the devastating events of that fateful day begin to unfold.

Patrick Hayes’ script effectively blends historical fact with fictional storytelling, using the device of modern characters uncovering hidden truths from the past. While this framing works well overall, Act One did feel somewhat long, as each character from the past delivered their own monologue. However, Act Two gained a welcome sense of urgency, with more compelling momentum and several standout moments. That said, the final scenes, where each contemporary character comes to understand their deeper connection to the history, felt a little rushed and underdeveloped in comparison to the slow build earlier on.

Marcus Fernando’s direction provides fluidity between past and present, with strong support from Paul Withers’ evocative lighting and Jobe Baker-Sullivan’s haunting musical compositions. Yet, the overuse of the downstage area to denote the ‘past’ occasionally led to issues—when actors moved even slightly upstage, they were often left poorly lit.

However, one moment of technical and emotional harmony stood out: a devastating scene set in a church, where Aurélie (Bryony Tebbutt), mother of Claudine, recounts the horrors she witnessed, underscored by live singing from Alice Orlik. As smoke gently engulfed the performers, the moment became visually and emotionally arresting—an example of theatrical storytelling at its finest.

Personally, I found the scenes set in the past more engaging. Annaliese Morgan was utterly captivating as young Claudine, delivering a performance full of truth and nuance, her French accent both convincing and consistent. Her relationships with her onstage parents and friends were natural and touching. Leah Fennell (Monique) and Amara Latchford (Lucien) brought charm and energy, successfully embodying childlike innocence without veering into caricature.

Another standout performance also came from Giles Whoreton as Hans, a young Nazi soldier whose humanity and conflict subtly challenged audience assumptions. Through Hans’ internal struggle—his anger, confusion, and powerlessness within a system far bigger than himself—Whoreton encouraged us to reflect on the uncomfortable truth that not all those within the Nazi regime were entirely devoid of morality.

One slightly jarring element was the inconsistency in accent work. Katie Cannon’s French accent as Marie Christine added authenticity, yet Andrew Cullum’s Maurice—despite being a French local—spoke in Received Pronunciation, which disrupted the otherwise careful world-building.

Ultimately, All My Pretty Ones is more than a historical retelling—it is a heartfelt reflection on the necessity of remembrance and the dangers of forgetting. It asks its audience to confront the past not with distant sympathy, but with urgent relevance. This production is a reminder of theatre’s unique power to educate, provoke, and move.

★★★☆☆ (3*)

Gifted tickets in return for an honest review