Theatre Review: Consumed at the Lyric Theatre

There are family get-togethers you endure.

And then there are family get-togethers that expose everything.

Consumed, written by Karis Kelly, arrives in Belfast with serious credentials — winner of the Women’s Prize for Playwriting and fresh from a celebrated run at the Edinburgh Fringe. But awards aside, what matters most is this: it hits hard. Very hard.

This is a play about four generations of Northern Irish women gathered for a 90th birthday party that nobody really wants. A kitchen in Bangor. A cluttered table. Party hats. Underneath it all? Decades of resentment, buried trauma and the kind of silence that grows teeth.

A House Full of Hungry Ghosts

At the head of the table sits Eileen — sharp-tongued, unapologetic and anything but a sweet great-granny stereotype. Around her, the generations stack up: daughter, granddaughter, great-granddaughter. No men present — their absence both explained and quietly telling.

From the opening exchanges, there’s a sense of something simmering. Jokes land. One-liners draw laughter. But the laughter is uneasy. The kind that makes you glance sideways at the person you came with. Because the humour here is pitch black.

Mothers and daughters clash in ways that feel painfully recognisable. The arguments about food, lifestyle, mental health and the past might sound trivial at first — until they aren’t. Words become weapons. Silence becomes suffocating. And as the evening unravels, so does the illusion that this is “just another difficult family.”

You will recognise someone in this play. Most of us know at least one of these women in real life. If you know all four… I’d check the storage room.

Dark Comedy That Cuts Deep

Kelly navigates that dangerous line between comedy and devastation with remarkable control. The audience laughs — and then feels slightly guilty for laughing. References to sectarianism, alcoholism, eating disorders and inherited trauma are woven into rapid-fire exchanges that feel brutally authentic.

One of the most striking threads running through the play is the idea of epigenetics — the notion that trauma doesn’t just haunt us psychologically, it may live in the body itself. Passed down. Activated. Inherited like eye colour or a stubborn streak.

Each daughter blames her mother. Each mother insists she did her best. Fathers drift in the margins of conversation, largely untouched by the blame being hurled across the dinner table.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s meant to be. This is not a gentle evening at the theatre.

When Realism Turns Surreal

Midway through, the play shifts. The kitchen realism fractures and something more symbolic, almost dreamlike, creeps in. Sound design rumbles beneath the dialogue like distant thunder. The house becomes more than a house — it becomes a metaphor for Northern Ireland itself. A home shaped by history. By silence. By violence. By things never fully spoken.

The final sequence between the oldest and youngest women introduces a strain of magical realism that reframes everything that has come before. Trauma isn’t just emotional — it’s inherited, absorbed, consumed. The title makes sense in more ways than one.

Performances That Don’t Flinch

The cast commit fully — petulant, pained, furious, brittle when required. No one plays it safe. The intensity in the central confrontations is electric, reminiscent at times of the raw volatility of classic domestic dramas, yet entirely grounded in a distinctly Northern Irish context.

The women are neurotic, emotionally repressed, funny, damaged, resilient — often all within the same scene.

And while the play runs at a sharp pace, there is a sense that its themes could stretch even further. Seventy minutes feels both concentrated and expansive — like you’ve witnessed something big in a relatively small room.

Not For Everyone — But For Everyone

Content warnings are clear: strong language, references to violence, self-harm and suicide. This is 14+ for a reason. Some moments may genuinely upset. But theatre should sometimes unsettle.

Consumed isn’t simply about dysfunctional families. It’s about generational trauma in Northern Ireland. It’s about women carrying emotional labour across decades. It’s about the ghosts that sit at our tables whether we invite them or not.

It balances heartbreak with biting humour. It leaves you laughing — then quiet on the drive home.

And perhaps checking, just briefly, what’s been stored away in your own family history.

LoveBelfast Verdict:

A darkly powerful, uncomfortable and deeply compelling production. Not an easy watch — but an important one.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Have you seen Consumed at the Lyric? We’d love to hear your thoughts.