“Do you think they’re listening?” Bagge (George Jones) asks. “I think you’re safe. The Brits don’t understand the real Gestapo methods,” reassures Heisenberg (Alan Cox). Thankfully for us, the British did, and thus we have the play before us. Katherine Moar’s Farm Hall comes to Cambridge Arts Theatre this month to continue a national tour that follows its productions at Jermyn Street Theatre and at the Theatre Royal in Bath, earlier this year. Farm Hall dramatises the captivity of ten German scientists in the late stages of the Second World War, drawing out the depth of their internal divisions and the intensity of their moral torment - but also their boyish humour.

Still under the direction of Stephen Unwin, Farm Hall makes use of a single set that draws the audience into the small space of a living room. Here, skilfully varied lighting creates a sense of time and mood that draws viewers into the intimate, emotional turmoil of the shadowy evenings and captivates them with the room-spanning arguments on a fully lit stage. The closeness of Farm Hall, a grade II* listed building in Godmanchester (just an hour’s bus ride away from Cambridge Arts Theatre) makes the story even more vivid.

“With themes reminiscent of those that might stimulate conversation in a college bar”

The proximity of the story to the Cambridge audience is not limited to the physical, with themes reminiscent of those that might stimulate conversation in a college bar, or even at a high table. When Bagge defends his party membership against Von Laue’s (William Chubb) attacks, one cannot help but wonder what issues provoke similar (albeit less severe) division just steps away, especially as Bagge challenges Weizsäcker’s (Daniel Boyd) supposed purity under the protection of a diplomat father hidden away in Switzerland.

However eerily familiar these scenes might feel, the most moving moment of the play comes as Von Laue comforts a distraught Hahn (Forbes Masson) who feels responsible for the Americans’ development of an atomic bomb given his discovery of fission. Bringing many in the audience to tears, nothing else could so effectively capture the torment of unexpected consequences than the well-meaning academic who never knew, or even could have known, how their work would be used.

“Nothing else could so effectively capture the torment of unexpected consequences than the well-meaning academic”

Despite the heavy resonance of these moral quandaries, the play is not without its laughs, which begin just moments after the six actors slip out from behind the set’s only two doors. Incorporating humour and almost-teenage gossip, Moar humanises the German scientists. Although such humanisation always risks legitimisation of their positions and actions, Moar balances it well, forcing the audience to question the potential evil of the neighbouring engineer more than the recognised evil of the Nazi nuclear project.

In a pre-show talk, Moar agreed with Heisenberg that the scientists she dramatises never faced the greater moral dilemma of success. This only serves to intensify the dread with which we must face our own uncertainty over what we would do: whether we would do what is right and best for us or what is best for our family, as Heisenberg summarises in a closing monologue. Despite the centrality of this question to the play, this monologue loses the nuance and subtlety of the earlier dialogue, making clear a message but with diminished artistry. Nevertheless, taken in its entirety, the play exposes the banality of evil and the duality of the individual with a combination of witty quips and serious musings.

“The play exposes the banality of evil and the duality of the individual”

In one hour and fifty minutes, Farm Hall offers an engaging recreation of history, combining verbatim transcripts with fictionalised reconstructions. It recounts difficult questions of the past and begs those of the present. We should eagerly await Katherine Moar’s current commission with the Hampstead Theatre, hoping that it will turn out just as strong. For anyone in the University, Farm Hall will be a fantastic night at the theatre that will leave you questioning your own work as much as that of the Nazi nuclear scientists.

Farm Hall runs at Cambridge Arts Theatre from 12 September to 23 September. It then moves to Perth theatre from the 3 to 7 October, the Yvonne Arnaud theatre from 10 to 14 October, then the Oxford Playhouse and the Richmond Theatre from 16 to 21 October and from 23 to 28 October, respectively.