 In an age where true crime podcasts, Netflix docuseries, and sprawling Scandinavian thrillers stretch cases out over countless hours, White Lies proves how much can be achieved in just 50 minutes. This taut play doesn’t simply unravel a cold case but it plunges headfirst into the sins of a town, the silence of its institutions, and the shadows that families and communities work hard to bury.
At the centre of the story is Maria Tracey, a young FBI agent struggling to prove her worth in a male-dominated bureau, barely a decade after women were first allowed to serve. Summoned back to her hometown, Maria is tasked with re-examining a ten-year-old murder case and one that unsettles not only her professional instincts but also her personal memories. The narrative shifts seamlessly between 1971 and 1981, drawing a chilling contrast between Maria as a girl piecing together fragments of what she once knew, and Maria as an agent forced to confront how much she must silence, uncover, or reframe in the service of justice. Her investigation becomes as much about untangling her own past as it is about solving the crime. What elevates White Lies beyond a traditional murder mystery is its excavation of the broader American psyche. The play portrays a small-town ecosystem with sheriffs, grieving families, neighbours, and the local Catholic priest and where complicity thrives. Against the backdrop of the Vietnam War’s aftermath, it subtly evokes a nation wrestling with its own guilt, denial, and willingness to look the other way. The “Vietnam effect” here is less about geopolitics than about the culture of complicity: a collective shrug that allows atrocities, both foreign and domestic, to remain unspoken. The direction makes brilliant use of the audience itself — when cast members aren’t in a scene, they often sit among us, their silent presence implicating us as part of the town’s complicity in the cover-up. This choice heightens the unease, blurring the line between spectator and participant, and leaving us uncomfortably aware of our own silence. It’s a subtle but powerful device, as though we become another institution turning a blind eye, folded into the collective hush that protects the town’s darkest secrets. The play reckons with “the sins of the father” and this resonates on multiple levels: the literal fathers whose choices and secrets weigh down their children, and the spiritual fathers of the Church whose moral authority masks darker truths. White Lies suggests that these inherited sins - whether through bloodlines or belief systems can seep into communities, leaving the next generation to reckon with the damage. Maria’s journey, then, is not just about cracking a case but about facing the ghosts passed down by both family and faith. Lee Hutchison White Lies Venue: Stephenson Theatre at theSpace @ Surgeons' Hall Dates: August 22-23rd Time: 1730 Tickets: www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/white-lies |
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