At Eternity’s Gate review – Hope Street Theatre, 11th June 2026

In choosing to depict Vincent Van Gogh from the perspective of bereaved younger brother Theo, writer-actor Joseph Winder has created a play with a very satisfying sense of the complexity of having – and losing – a sibling who is as difficult as he is talented. Set on the day of Vincent’s suicide, we are presented with the wildly fluctuating emotions of someone whose years of correspondence with the artist have been brought to an horrifically abrupt end.

No wonder he feels cast adrift.

One of Winder’s greatest strengths as a writer is his ability to find the small and the particular within this stormy sea of emotion. An ear of wheat – a stone – a one-sided handshake: each has a specific meaning and significance that is immediately apparent, without the need for it being spelled out.

The writing also carries the veracity gained from combining facts, stories and emotions gleaned from the brothers’ (now published) letters with elements of the writer’s own life. Though I don’t know the source, the description of seeing people in a gallery falling under the spell of specific paintings is a case in point; a vividly-drawn vignette that really resonates because it simply feels true. In fact, it could’ve been a well-observed description of my own reaction when I first saw Van Gogh’s painting Bedroom in Arles at the Musée d’Orsay; a memory that is almost as vivid as the painting itself.

Despite (or perhaps partly because of) all of these strengths, it still feels like there is room for the piece to blossom even further. In terms of this specific production, admitting a little extra variety might be productive, perhaps by allowing in a bit more lightness or stillness to balance the more emotionally fraught sections. It might be a challenge, but this could be done in ways that take nothing away from the impact of the contrasting elements that come into play late on.



Likewise, I felt that Winder’s ability to present the subtle as an actor was a little underused, with some (admittedly powerful) lighting and directorial choices given prominence instead.

As with Winder’s own decision to have an empty easel on stage rather than one holding a blank canvas, sometimes less really is more. 



In the post-performance Q&A, the playwright mentioned the possibility of writing a second play about Van Gogh with more characters; but I wonder if it might be just as fruitful to expand this play, taking advantage of his evident ability to switch character. Whilst attempting to turn this into a Dutch Under Milk Wood might be taking things a bit too far, there is an intriguing cast of characters depicted in Van Gogh paintings from which to pick, ranging from the unnamed to fellow painter Paul Gaugin, via a postman, a doctor, and even Vincent’s own mother.

Some of the very, very best one-handed plays involve actors who present a number of different people – Simon Callow’s incredible portrayal of Charles Dickens and many of his characters springs to mind. I have a sneaking feeling Winder might just be able to pull off something similar.

A final quick mention for the admirable link between this production and the Jacob Billington Trust charity, which raises funds to help fund young people’s music education in the Sefton area, in memory of a very talented musician who died tragically young – a gesture as noble as it is apt.