Sam wants something so simple — to bring his boyfriend Julian to his brother’s wedding. But Sam is also a Catholic, as is his entire family. While most of them support him, his mother Monica cannot. She fears his “sin” will damn him to Hell.

These days, it’s common for audiences to find themselves treading fault lines of faith, sexuality, and family (we live in a post-Fleabag world, after all). Even so, in the intimate space of the Corpus Playroom, this play leads us by the hand into surprising territory. Playwright Jacinta Ngeh has an impressive eye for finding the pressure points between people — she knows what makes her characters tick, and so do the actors.

“What sets it apart is its attention to character and the strength of its cast”

What sets Greater Than Ourselves apart is its attention to character and the strength of its cast. Zach Lonberg plays the family’s father, Philip, with a gentle vacancy that can be comforting when it counts. Lucy Carter strikes the right balance of down-to-earth and dutiful, providing a sense of Elizabeth’s dual roles as a sister to Sam and a sister of the Church. Mia De Costa, Oscar Griffin, and Joe Short all also make for convincing snarky siblings. Some of their quieter comedic moments can feel a little stilted, but then again, so can real-life family get-togethers. Sam and his boyfriend Julian were a less convincingly portrayed relationship. Will Irngartinger delivers a moving performance as Julian, but his chemistry with Sam feels underdeveloped. When Julian and Sam are finally reunited, the action takes place on the side of the stage, which minimizes one of the most important moments in the play.

The beating heart of the play is the relationship between son and mother, portrayed by Liam Macmillan and Alessandra Rey. Macmillan’s performance as Sam is nothing short of breathtaking. He occupies his character completely, shifting seamlessly from fear to joy with well-placed fidgets and stutters. Rey plays a pretty terrifying homophobic mum, but she also knows when to soften the strictness and allow Monica’s vulnerable side to shine through. Like Sam himself, I couldn’t help but hate and love her in turn. Macmillan and Rey both have an incredible sense of the rhythms of real speech — they know exactly when to pause or cut another actor off. Every scene between them felt vividly, painfully real.

Director Amy Riordan uses the space of the Playroom to great effect. Characters enter and exit from all three doors, mimicking the movements of a real household. The set consists of four crates, which are transitioned smoothly from car to bed to church pews. Edward D’Ath’s lighting design is subtle but beautiful — the last scenes are bathed in morning oranges which seem to hint at something divine. The Playroom’s small size also makes the acting cinematic. When Macmillan’s lip trembles or Rey’s shoulders slump, we see it, and we feel it.

Overall, as a student-written and student-produced piece of theatre, Greater Than Ourselves is uniquely mature and moving. It’s very well-directed, very well-acted, and it made me cry. Just a little.

Greater Than Ourselves is playing at the Corpus Playrooms from Tuesday 7th to Saturday 11th March, 7pm.