How much compassion can we extend to someone whose history is difficult to reconcile with our own values? And does understanding the circumstances that shaped a person mean we should forgive them for the things they have done?
These are some of the uncomfortable questions at the heart of The Moth, a play by Paul Herzberg about two men whose lives are both strikingly different and unexpectedly intertwined.
The story centres on a chance encounter between John Josana (Faz Singhateh) and Marius Muller (Micky Cochrane) on a train. What begins as an unlikely meeting gradually opens up a much wider conversation about racism, racial segregation, apartheid and inherited family trauma. Through their respective histories, the two men confront the ways in which the circumstances of our birth, upbringing and environment can shape the people we become.
It’s a heavy subject matter, and the production makes few attempts to lighten the load. Much of the play is driven by dialogue, with the characters unpacking deeply personal histories and confronting difficult truths about their pasts. There is a great deal to absorb, and the audience is expected to give it their full attention.
One of the more compelling aspects of the play is its exploration of compassion. It asks us to consider whether someone born into an abhorrent set of circumstances can be understood beyond the ideology or history associated with them. But it is careful not to confuse understanding with absolution. Hearing someone’s story does not mean you have to forgive them, nor does empathy require you to abandon your own moral convictions. That distinction gives the play much of its weight.
The performances are engaging, with both actors delivering genuine intensity and vulnerability. The intimate setting works well for a story that relies so heavily on conversation, while the use of props and a screen displaying archival-style imagery adds another dimension to the storytelling. These visual elements offer some welcome variation in a production that is otherwise largely carried by words.
My main reservation is that the dialogue occasionally feels more like a succession of speeches than a dramatic exchange. At times, the play resembles two extended monologues placed in conversation with one another, with characters articulating their positions at considerable length. Some of these passages might have been just as impactful delivered as standalone speeches. There are, however, moments of heightened drama that break through the discourse and remind you that you’re watching a piece of theatre, rather than simply listening to an argument unfold.
The Moth is not an easy watch, nor is it necessarily one you’ll leave feeling particularly uplifted by. It is, however, a production that gives its audience plenty to sit with. For those less familiar with the histories and lasting consequences of apartheid and racial discrimination, it offers an opportunity to engage with subjects that are too often left unexplored. For others, the discomfort may come from hearing familiar histories and confronting the ways in which they continue to shape our understanding of the world.
Theatre should entertain, but it should also challenge, provoke and create space for conversations that might otherwise be avoided. The Moth does just that, even if its dialogue-heavy approach occasionally makes for a demanding experience.
You may not leave with all the answers, but you’ll certainly leave with a desire to question the history.
NEED TO KNOW: The Moth runs at the Finborough Theatre, London, from until 21 November 2026. See listing:
- Featuring Faz Singhateh and Micky Cochrane
- Voice of John Josana’s mother performed by Adjoa Andoh
