Words by Sofia Shann
The future is an unsettling prospect. With the media saturated by unrelentingly despondent headlines, it’s not hard to worry about the prospect of where we’re headed: technology is advancing at an impressive, but slightly terrifying rate; civil and international conflict persists; the cost of living remains as unforgiving as ever.
Looming threateningly in the background and inextricably entwined with all of the aforementioned, is the issue that sometimes feels too overwhelming to even address: global warming.
Jake Turner Chan, however, tackles the topic head-on in his brand-new play, New Leeds. Set some 100 years in the future, in a sparsely populated and increasingly uninhabitable world ravaged by climate collapse, the play interrogates the daily lives and relationship dynamics of a small community in Leeds attempting to rebuild the city with limited supplies and only each other to rely on — or so they believe.
New Leeds opens with Kerani (Evie Corney), a determined young woman, entering the space with a lingering air of shock. She tunes into a BBC radio broadcast to find Martin (Paddy Stockwell), self-proclaimed architect and leader, calling for volunteers to help with his bridge-building project in Leeds. As she listens, she clutches a pink plastic envelope, a detail later revealed to be important that I, for one, wish had been slightly more emphasised in the beginning — the only time where it’s just us and her.
The rest of the play takes place in the community centre (with the exception of occasional trips to the bridges), beginning when Kerani shows up to offer her services. She is welcomed by Niamh (Alice Eatough), the plumber of the group who is independent and organised yet simultaneously lively, sincere, and sensitive.
Jaden (Dan Greenwood) also joins the welcome party, excited by the new face and eager to show someone his music collection and makeshift spice rack (proudly presenting a carton of table salt and some stock cubes). Though physically weaker than the rest, Jaden is the heart of the group. He takes on the role of the child, a vital aspect of community, the shared affection for whom is binding.
Mei (Gaby Ward) is the true leader and smarts of the gang, despite leading Martin to believe otherwise in an attempt to keep him occupied. The stress of this makes for a hard exterior but her softer, comedic side shows up as the play develops. It culminates in a night of dancing and whimsy, accompanied by a miscellaneous bag of white powder discovered by Martin in an abandoned bank.
In its stylistic approach to the theme of climate change, New Leeds is a pioneering piece of work. Rather than resorting to fear-mongering or overwhelming the audience with abstract statistics, Turner Chan presents a tangible, real-life scenario. Is it realistic? Quite possibly. Even if not, it’s a lot more effective than the alternative.
By anchoring the futuristic world of the play to the present day through Amy Winehouse CDs and discoveries of ‘old’ newspapers from 2025, all the while foregrounding it with five nuanced and believable characters, it’s impossible not to feel the impact of the subject matter. With its sitcom-like charm, inside jokes, romances, and moments of self-discovery, the production guides the audience to the darker theme at its core without having to beg.
At over two hours, it would be easy to call the pacing too slow and it’s true that certain scenes were unusually lengthy without moving the plot forward. And yet, I remained captivated for the full 130 (ish) minutes, barely aware of their passing. It’s refreshing, and fairly uncommon in student theatre, for a writer to truly give their characters space to breathe.
The cast rose to this challenge with skill. The chemistry across the board meant that even in the slowest scenes, it never felt stagnant. A genuine warmth radiated from the stage—not just in its vulnerable moments, but equally in the bickering and casual exchanges. Notably, Alice Eatough’s compassionate take on Niamh was an impressive UMDS debut and Gaby Ward’s layered portrayal of Mei was likewise a highlight. Humorous moments were handled deftly by all, something that can also be attributed to conscious and experienced direction.
Speaking of the creative team, the design was excellent. With the biggest design team of the MIFTA season and some beautiful promotional materials, I was excited to see what they would come out with and was far from disappointed. In terms of performance space, they got lucky: Antwerp Mansion was the perfect venue for this production. Built in 1842, it started out as the Belgian Consulate before transforming into a conservative club, a somewhat infamous nightclub, and finally an arts and creative hub in 2011.
Its peeling ceilings, lack of heating and general run-down feeling perfectly evoked the essence of an abandoned assembly hall/ community centre. Staging it in traverse was a smart choice, allowing them to maximise the space, including use of the built-in bar which was repurposed as a kitchen. Though some neck craning was inevitable, the immersive experience of the actors moving so naturally around the audience was a worthwhile exchange.
The sound and lighting design by Zahra Aslani and Erin Walfisz, respectively, further enhanced this effect. The radio broadcasts and sounds of nature added a depth achievable only through such high quality of audio production, ensuring the audience is drawn further into the fictional world rather than being jolted out of it. The lighting was similarly meticulous and effective, seamlessly complementing the script and performances.
What briefly pulled me out of the experience, however, was the twist at the end. This is where the pink envelope resurfaces: Niamh discovers it in Kerani’s bag, revealing documents belonging to her long-missing, now-deceased brother. We learn that Kerani killed him in an act of self-defence — despite not being attacked — pre-emptively striking out of fear in a world where violence was described to be increasingly meaningless.
I think that this moment would’ve been more effective if the audience had been given more hints of Kerani’s crime early on, allowing for a heightened tension throughout. Foregrounding the romantic tension between Kerani and Niamh with this would’ve maintained the stakes, keeping it that bit more engaging. As it was, the reveal didn’t even feel entirely convincing given how at ease Kerani seemed within the group.
That being said, the true legacy of New Leeds is its cognizant portrayal of a functioning community in the face of adversity. For a long time, Western society has been moving further and further away from community values, instead prioritising individuality and personal growth, even with a familial setting. The play calls for a shift in this culture by proposing an alternative
Turner Chan’s depiction of this alternative acknowledges the fluid nature of community: where there is solidarity, there must also be conflict. Isn’t it worth sacrificing a little bit of peace for the reassurance that, no matter what lies ahead, you’ll never have to face it alone? As the seas continue to rise, New Leeds urges you to consider whether you want to be the only one aboard your lifeboat.
