The NT Live broadcast of David Ireland’s The Fifth Step, filmed live at London’s @sohoplace, is a knockout. Capturing the critically-acclaimed run from producers Neal Street Productions and Playful Productions, this screen transfer immortalises a production reborn, transforming what was a flawed 2024 premiere into a fearless, compact comedy-drama.
Anchored by two electric performances from Jack Lowden and Martin Freeman, this 90-minute two-hander from the National Theatre of Scotland about addiction, faith, and unlikely friendship is a gripping, laugh-out-loud journey that proves the power of perfect casting and intimate staging.
A Dramatic Recovery
When theQR.co.uk saw this play at the 2024 Edinburgh International Festival, Lindsay McMurdo found David Ireland’s The Fifth Step to be an “over-freighted” and “emotionally thin” piece, which crammed too many themes into unnatural, “docu-speak” dialogue. Despite praise for the set design and moments of natural banter, the final impression was of a well-intentioned but flawed production.
What a difference a year, and a sell-out restaging of the piece at Soho Place seems to have made. Now set in the round, with a set reduced from a revolving marvel to two chairs and a small table, there’s little to dislike about this fearless, compact, comedy drama.
…a gripping, laugh-out-loud journey that proves the power of perfect casting and intimate staging.
The Freeman Effect
Neither plot nor characters have undergone any significant changes. Yet, the dialogue seems to flow much more naturally between Jack Lowden’s Alcoholics Anonymous newbie, Luka, and Martin Freeman’s older, and long-sober James, than when Sean Gilder wore the latter’s shoes. A post-screening Q&A revealed that at least one momentous line was newly inserted during the Soho Place rehearsals, so perhaps the text has been subject to a few more changes. Perhaps, of course, the part of Luka’s urbane and highly opinionated sponsor simply suits Freeman better.
Whatever the cause, The Fifth Step is now a riveting, well-paced journey of recovery, mutual discovery, philosophical impasses and inter-personal crises. It’s also a laugh-out-loud comedy, Lowden and Freeman sparking off each other, at times, like a well-oiled improv-comedy double-act.
Luka’s complete lack of boundaries and long-unquenched sexual appetite sparks off James’s politer and curiously sexless sensibilities. Finn Den Hertog’s touch is feather-light, sufficient to keep the story in constant motion, but otherwise leaving the two actors to show their qualities.
And they do. Where Lowden’s 2024 performance was overly active all the time, now Luka steadily evolves, emerging from despair and back into society. Easy to like, flawed, and a little ridiculous (as are we all), it’s a cracking turn from Lowden. Freeman, however, makes inhabiting a character look as easy as breathing or putting on shoes. Of course, it’s a type we’re used to seeing him occupy: smart, sceptical, and prone to the last word, but made more witty than likeable thanks to a touch of vinegar in his diction.
The pair’s smart guy/puppydog dynamic has a long history in comedy, and it works particularly well here.



A Functionally Dysfunctional Friendship
Told in six scenes, roughly approximating the first steps of the Twelve-Step program, we first meet Luka as a twitching, self-destructive Alcoholics Anonymous newbie. It’s there he meets the older, seemingly wiser, James, who agrees to be his sponsor, whilst promising the possibility of recovery. We meet them on five further occasions, trust building, before spiritual awakenings threaten to push them apart when Luka discovers Jesus, much to “recovering Catholic” James’s dismay.
There’s much to laugh at in the younger man’s wide-eyed deep-dive into Christianity, but though Ireland has James voice his anger at the many scandals attending various religious organisations in recent decades, Luka’s faith ultimately does help him become a better man. Horses, as they say, for courses (no, I don’t mean slow ones.)
Finn Den Hertog’s touch is feather-light, sufficient to keep the story in constant motion, but otherwise leaving the two actors to show their qualities.
Elsewhere, the pair’s conversation does range widely, but where it seemed rather forced before, their discussions of father/son relationships, modern masculinity and sexual ethics seem inevitable given the clash of personalities. Into their banter, Ireland deploys a lovely red herring to hoodwink both James and the audience, before pulling the rug out from under both with a well-timed gossip hand grenade. This isn’t subtle, fearful theatre — this is a square-on, affectionate, but frank look at humanity: the good and the bad.
It’s a story of an unlikely friendship, thankfully unromanticised, continually hovering between the mutually destructive and positively transformational. It’s this push-pull tension which keeps the play interesting from start to finish.
Does the ultimate crisis still feel a little ‘over-escalated’? Maybe, but only because the audience spends so long watching Luka recover, it misses the signs of James’s unravelling. On second watching, one suspects the signs of catastrophe are writ large and larger by the moment.
From Stage to Screen
The transition to screen for NT Live is exceptionally well-handled. The @sohoplace’s in-the-round setup is a gift to the camera, allowing for a 360-degree, dynamic experience that feels far more cinematic than a traditional proscenium arch broadcast. The direction follows the rapid-fire banter naturally, closing in on the intimate confessions and pulling back to capture the more physical moments, making the audience feel like a third person at stageside.
This cinematic feel is powerfully supported by Lizzie Powell’s first-class lighting design. As with the original production, the lighting works wonders, creating a genuine sense of shifting time and place as the two men move between various anonymous meeting spots.
The Final Reckoning
In the final reckoning, this National Theatre of Scotland production marks an excellent debut on the worldwide NT Live phenomenon. It’s a hugely entertaining, 90-minute journey into a functionally dysfunctional friendship that deserves to find the wide audience this broadcast will guarantee. It will, without doubt, delight and surprise in equal measure.
Featured Image: NTL 2025 The Fifth Step Production Photography (credit Johan Persson)















