The Line of Beauty at Almeida Theatre Review

An elegant and emotionally charged adaptation that explores love, class, and power in Thatcher’s Britain.

Running until 29 November at the Almeida Theatre, The Line of Beauty is already a sell-out, with limited returns available online.

Michael Grandage’s stage adaptation of Alan Hollinghurst’s Booker Prize winning novel draws the audience into the glitter and unease of 1980s London. Adapted by Jack Holden, it follows Nick Guest, a young Oxford graduate who moves into the Notting Hill home of his wealthy friend Toby Fedden. Through Nick’s eyes, we see a world of privilege, charm, and hypocrisy. Welcomed in but never truly belonging, he becomes both a guest and a witness to a society that dazzles and corrupts in equal measure.

Holden’s adaptation moves with clarity and confidence. The first act has energy and warmth, filled with wit and detail. The second turns darker as desire and secrecy take hold. His script distils a complex novel into focused, emotionally engaging theatre that still feels faithful to Hollinghurst’s tone.

Christopher Oram’s design is elegantly restrained. The Almeida’s bare stone wall stands behind a sleek black floor, while subtle shifts of furniture mark each new setting. Howard Hudson’s lighting moves gently from warmth to shadow, tracing the play’s gradual loss of innocence. Adam Cork’s sound design completes the picture, weaving 80s pop into the atmosphere with both irony and affection.

Jasper Talbot gives a thoughtful and contained performance as Nick, capturing the slow erosion of curiosity into disillusionment. Charles Edwards is excellent as Gerald Fedden, his genial surface masking entitlement and quiet menace. Claudia Harrison’s Rachel moves gracefully between charm and control, while Ellie Bamber’s Cat offers the most direct voice in the room, fierce and fragile in equal measure. Arty Froushan’s Wani adds tension and glamour, and Alistair Nwachukwu’s Leo brings honesty and warmth to Nick’s early love story.

If the final act feels a touch rushed, the production still closes with real emotional precision. It resists nostalgia, showing the allure of the decade without romanticising its cruelty. By the end, the polish has faded, leaving a clear picture of what beauty costs to those who chase it.

Grandage and Holden have created a piece that is poised, intelligent, and quietly moving. It trusts the audience to listen, observe, and draw meaning from what is left unsaid, a quality that makes it all the more powerful.

Cast and creatives: