There are moments in The Void when I genuinely believe I have boarded the Nostromo, and for someone whose youthful infatuation with Sigourney Weaver remains largely undiminished, that is no small achievement.
The extraordinary set presents us with an exploded view of the nose cone of a spacecraft, its outer sections peeled back like the petals of some enormous mechanical flower, exposing the industrial structure within. At its centre, a vast circular surface doubles as a rear-projection screen, providing the focus for much of the production’s remarkable imagery.
But what makes this design particularly impressive is how successfully the whole of Traverse One becomes part of the spaceship. The exposed air-conditioning plant, overhead gantries and cage-like structures of the theatre itself are absorbed into the design. In the half-light, the illusion is wonderfully convincing. As an architect, I find myself admiring the ingenious exploitation of the building almost as much as the theatrical spectacle.
And what a spectacle it is.
Written and directed by Ryan Simons, The Void presents a surprisingly sophisticated science-fiction world within the confines of a theatre. There is a pleasingly grubby, steampunk quality to the costumes and interiors, with satisfying mechanical clunks, ominous lighting changes and sudden bursts of noise delivering some genuinely effective jump scares.
The theatrical illusions are even better. Figures materialise and disappear before our eyes with an ingenuity bordering on magic. A particularly memorable spacewalk sees Flint (Alex Moran) leaning further and further backwards until he appears to defy gravity altogether. It is the sort of illusion familiar from street performers posing as living statues, but translated into a theatrical setting with remarkable effect.
I love these moments. Absolutely love them.
Unfortunately, somewhere amongst all this technical wizardry, the production rather loses the plot. Quite literally.
The backstory, delivered through impressive AI-generated film sequences projected onto the spacecraft, is intriguing enough. Earth has been devastated by nuclear winter, a powerful corporation has launched embryo ships into space, and humanity’s future depends upon the exploitation of distant planets. Human beings have become increasingly integrated into a corporate mainframe through implanted chips, with disturbing consequences when that technology begins to turn against them.
Flint, born aboard the embryo ship Odyssey, returns to the vessel and encounters Blair (Ryan Simons), a biological engineer ominously known as the Butcher. Unlike the other passengers, Blair has never been implanted with the digital chip connecting humanity to the corporation’s network, which explains his survival when so many others have perished. There is something distinctly Mengele-like about this character, a disturbing suggestion of scientific experimentation without moral restraint, which becomes increasingly apparent as his history unfolds.
There is the basis of a perfectly serviceable science-fiction thriller here. Unfortunately, the narrative becomes increasingly convoluted, leaving me feeling rather like I do after watching certain Marvel films, when I have to ask my children what on earth has just happened. They invariably explain that it was all perfectly obvious.
Perhaps it was. But I am not convinced.
Consider Alien. Its central premise is almost childishly simple. A crew, a spaceship, an unwelcome passenger and nowhere to escape. The filmmakers understood precisely where their resources should be concentrated. The story remained linear, allowing the atmosphere, performances and terrifying creature to do the work.
The Void has much of that atmosphere already at its disposal. It hardly needs to complicate matters further.
The performances of the two central characters are less convincing. These are people inhabiting a future in which humanity has been fundamentally altered by its circumstances. They are not quite the people we are today. They are once removed from us, shaped by an existence far beyond Earth, and there should surely be something unfamiliar, perhaps even unsettling, about their behaviour and relationships.
Yet that sense of otherness never really emerges. The sound design occasionally suggests an alienating, unfamiliar world, but the performances themselves remain disappointingly conventional, at times wooden and unnecessarily shouty. A little more restraint might have given the drama the emotional and psychological depth it needs.
And, if I am being particularly demanding, where is the big, fat alien? After all that wonderful machinery, smoke, lighting and sinister anticipation, I feel we deserve at least one.
Yet I cannot dismiss The Void. Far from it. There is genuine imagination here, tremendous technical ambition and some of the most memorable stage illusions I have encountered in a long time. Its creators have developed a theatrical language capable of delivering science-fiction spectacle on a remarkably convincing scale.
What they need now is the confidence to trust it.
Strip away some of the narrative complications, give us a clear, compelling story and allow those extraordinary effects to work their magic.
Because, for much of the evening, I really do feel as though I am aboard the Nostromo.
And frankly, I would happily go back.
Reviewer: Greg Holstead
Reviewed: 7th October 2026
North West End UK Rating:
Running time – 2hrs (including 25mins interval)