Ross Gaynor returns to the role of Ashton in the UK premiere of Simon Stephens’ A Slow Fire at Jermyn Street Theatre. Following a successful run in Dublin, the acclaimed production arrives in London with its original cast reunited under the direction of Rex Ryan.
Set in a world reshaped by catastrophe, A Slow Fire explores grief, hope and humanity’s enduring need for connection. The play follows two survivors living in a bunker who find their fragile existence upended by the arrival of a mysterious stranger.
We spoke to Ross Gaynor about revisiting Ashton, working with one of contemporary theatre’s most celebrated playwrights, and bringing this powerful story to audiences. A Slow Fire runs at Jermyn Street Theatre until 26 September 2026. Tickets are available here.
You’re starring in A Slow Fire at Jermyn Street Theatre, what can you tell us about the show?
A Slow Fire is a post-apocalyptic play set after an unspecified cataclysmic event. Two men shelter in a bunker with only each other for company, passing their days by reenacting moments of hope from their past lives, surviving only on limited water and rice.
When a third man arrives, with pork, a generator, and a gun, he throws their delicate balance into total disarray.
You’re reprising the role of Ashton from the original Dublin production. How has your relationship with the character evolved since you first played them?
Lynne Parker of Rough Magic once told me, “Never underestimate what you can achieve by staring slack-jawed out a window.”
Working harder is not necessarily working better. I was so proud of our original production with Glass Mask Theatre Dublin, but having six months off from Ashton, learning, living and trying to be a human being gives you a greater depth, understanding and appreciation when coming back to a character.
It’s a rare privilege to get to reprise roles. I’ve lived a lot in those six months, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse, and it has all informed Ashton’s growth.
A Slow Fire is set in a post-apocalyptic world, but at its heart it seems to be a very human story. What drew you to the play when you first read it?
Exactly that, the humanity.
When you strip away all the superfluous elements of modern life: technology, social pressures, expectations, materialism, work and routine, we are left with only our bare essentials. And the one thing that maintains and survives is love.
It’s a more extreme version of Marie Kondo, but we can learn a lot by reducing ourselves to those bare essentials and remembering what really matters.
Hope is the warrior emotion. It is adversarial and difficult. But if we lose hope and faith in our fellow man, what else do we have?
Simon Stephens is renowned for creating complex and emotionally rich characters. What has been the most rewarding aspect of bringing Ashton to life?
There is a beauty to originating a character.
So far, and for the time being, the only version of Ashton that exists is mine. He has only existed in my body. Obviously that will change with future productions, but for right now the only living Ashton is a product of me.
Simon is the best playwright in the world. He creates characters with extraordinary depth and complexity, with hidden, secret lives, and he gives actors all the necessary tools to create a three-dimensional character.
For me to mine those depths, and feel the feelings Simon has created, I have had to look deep inside myself to relate. Whilst difficult, emotional and occasionally traumatic, it is beyond rewarding to be able to offer an audience such truth each night.
And if an audience can recognise and connect with that truth, then I’ve done my job. He’s killing me, but I’ll miss him when he’s gone.
You’re working again with director Rex Ryan and fellow cast members Fionn Ó Loingsigh and Ian Toner. What has made this collaboration so special?
Ian and I were in university together and have known each other for sixteen years, though this is our first time working together, which is a great honour.
Rex and I have been working together for a decade, and it has been one of my most fruitful and important artistic collaborations.
And Fionn is a new friend and colleague whose work I have admired for many years.
We have formed an extraordinary bond, going to deep vulnerable places, while always managing to take the piss and laugh in the room throughout the tears in the play.
I’m a big believer in “take the work seriously, but never take yourself seriously”. That has been a shared ethos in A Slow Fire.
The co-dependency and love within the play have been absorbed in our friendships and professional dynamics.
What would you say to anyone thinking of booking to see A Slow Fire?
Book early, book often, and bring an open heart.
