Playwright Evan Placey brings a compelling new drama to Southwark Playhouse with Lifers, a story that confronts the realities of ageing in prison. Presented by Synergy Theatre Project, the play explores justice, dignity, and the human connections that form behind bars.
Known for tackling complex social issues through emotionally resonant storytelling, Placey’s latest work is both darkly funny and deeply moving. With a cast led by Peter Wight and direction by Esther Baker, Lifers promises to be a thought-provoking theatrical experience.
Lifers runs from Wednesday 1 to Saturday 25 October 2025 at Southwark Playhouse Borough. Tickets are available here
You’ve written Lifers, which is being staged at Southwark Playhouse, what can you tell us about the show?
A funny and moving play about growing old in prison. It centres primarily on the relationship between a ‘lifer’ and a prison officer, and the difficult decisions each has to make when the prisoner, Lenny, starts losing his memory.
What drew you to explore the themes of ageing, incarceration, and dignity in this play?
I had written a couple of plays for Synergy in the past—both of which were for young audiences—and I started thinking about the other end of the spectrum. Through my initial research, I came across an article which anecdotally mentioned a prison officer who had to continually remind a prisoner where he was. He had dementia and didn’t remember he was in prison, and that image took root in my brain.
I was interested in looking at ageing more broadly—how we treat the elderly in society—and was going through the need for support when my dad was dying. I’m going to generalise here, but for the most part, we ignore the old. We strip them of dignity in all sorts of ways. Telling it through the specific lens of prison gave me the story to explore the themes, as it’s a heightened microcosm of what happens in the rest of society.
How did working with Synergy Theatre Project shape the development of Lifers?
It was fundamental to its development; I couldn’t have written it without them. Key to the development was going into prison to meet and work with older prisoners, ‘lifers’, and prison officers. The knowledge of the Synergy team and the ex-prisoners it works with, and the experiences it was able to give me inside prison, were invaluable to shaping the play.
Having people with experiences of prison and the criminal justice system in the rehearsal room every day—working on the show in different artistic capacities—is a real luxury as a writer.
The opportunities to work in prison also forced me to face the same questions the lead character in the play does—can we separate the crime from the man? Working with men who’d committed some abhorrent crimes was a real challenge for me, and forced me to face the gaps between the ideals I claim to live by with regards to rehabilitation and the realities of how I felt when faced with it. There was no easy answer, and that really fuelled some of the dramatic questions in the play.
The play blends dark humour with serious social commentary, how did you approach that balance in your writing?
I try to put the social commentary to the back of my mind; it’s so embedded in the story, the world, and themes that I’m writing about that I try to just forget about it, and just focus on the characters.
When so much has been stripped from you when you’re inside, one of the only things you still have is your sense of humour—it helps you wake up in the morning and get through the day—so it came quite organically to the play.
For me, the balance comes from making sure the humour comes from laughing with the characters, rather than at them, and at the ridiculousness of the system. It’s also a practical thing of knowing as a writer when it’s useful to undercut the harshness of the drama with a joke, or when to allow us to sit uncomfortably in emotion.
You’ve written for both stage and screen, how does your creative process differ when writing for theatre?
The initial writing process doesn’t really differ for me, at least not consciously. It’s the latter half that changes.
With theatre, I have the privilege of having actors in the room and can do my rewriting ‘live’ in response to what is happening in the room, to further shape the play as actors are breathing life into it.
With screen, I haven’t been able to do that—there’s little rehearsal time—so I’m making sure what’s on the page is as tight as it can be when I hand it over, and clear in what it’s doing, as I may not even meet the actors doing the scene!
What would you say to anyone thinking of booking to see Lifers?
When I talk about the play it can sound very self-important, very righteous. But actually, for an audience, I think it’s just a really thought-provoking night of drama. There are twists, gut-punches, laughter and tears.
