The Ballad of Hattie and James review: A sweeping symphony of sexual identity and music

Sophie Thompson and Charles Edwards deliver wonderful performances in a story of musical prodigies with ‘One Day’ vibes

Edwards and Thompson in ‘The Ballad of Hattie and James’ (Mark Senior)

From a tune played on one of those annoying pianos at St Pancras station, Samuel Adamson spins out a beautiful epic in miniature, following the lives of a boy and a girl, musical prodigies Hattie and James.

But as with his previous hit Wife, seen at the Kiln in 2019 and similarly playing out across decades, Adamson makes this far more than just another love story. For one thing, Hattie and James are both gay, and for another, he turns the story – like Wife – into a big sweeping symphony of sexual identity and music.

There are One Day vibes here: we drop in on the couple at their few meetings decades apart, starting at a school production of Benjamin Britten’s Noye’s Fludde in 1976 and ending, well, a long time later. Their relationship is lived staccato: they only meet a handful of times, but their impact on each other is profound.