The Smile of Her Review

The Smile of Her marks Academy Award, Golden Globe and Emmy winner Christine Lahti’s London stage debut, and it’s a strikingly intimate one. The play is a deeply personal autobiographical work that Christine both wrote and performs, tracing her life from 1950s suburban Michigan to the present day. She revisits her childhood as the third of six children, the discipline and expectations that shaped her, and the gender norms that governed her early years. From there, the story moves through her university days and being a young woman during the women’s movement of the 1970s, onto her discovery of acting and the misogyny she encountered in the industry, and finally, her shifting understanding of her parents shifts as she grows older. 

The piece spans seven decades, but its themes feel universal: how our families shape us, where we locate ourselves within them, and what it means to finally see the people who raised us in their full humanity. Christine has said she wrote the play to “examine how the patriarchy…affected all the members of my family…the ways in which the patriarchy at large is not serving anybody and to provide some hope for a more equitable future where every human being regardless of their gender has the potential to thrive”. This intention runs through the work, allowing her to tell her story honestly with compassion.

Christine describes the play as an attempt to understand the stories she inherited and the silences she grew up with, and that intention is felt throughout.  Often we wear a mask, hiding our feelings from others and sometimes from ourselves; the play is also about the cost of that facade, and the toll of smiling through, as Christine says “pain, anger, and ambition”. 

The love Christine has for her family, and the care with which she approaches serious topics — mental health, suicide, abusive relationships, rape, sexual assault, sexism, changing societal views and feminism — shines throughout. Christine plays herself as well as various members of her family and others who left a lasting impact on her. With just a few mannerisms, the smoking of a cigarette or a pipe, a shift in stance, she becomes each of them.  One moment in particular stands out: Christine centre stage, tears in her eyes as she speaks about the sexual violence she and her sister endured. The theatre’s size makes the moment feel piercingly direct.

Jesamine‑Bleu Gibbs appears as the young Christine, an effective way of capturing childhood innocence and the beliefs we absorb before we know to question them. 

Sarah Beaton’s set is a pristine white couch covered in plastic, with a screen at the back projecting starry nights, black and white family photographs or Christine’s Golden Globe acceptance speech. The space is used with variety—Christine  perched on the couch, sitting on it playing a clapping game, cross‑legged on the floor, or moving around the stage. Her bright red outfit stands out sharply against the white.  There are occasional sound effects, including snippets of a Christmas carol and a famous musical playing as Christine received some devastating news, though one choice—a loud moo after the line “why would someone buy the cow when they can have the milk for free”—feels unnecessary. Still, the overall design supports the storytelling without overwhelming. 

At 90 minutes with no interval, the play moves with purpose. It’s a story of family, of differing generations, of sibling relationships, parent‑child dynamics and forgiveness. Performing until 29th August 2026. Tickets from £10. 

Address: Marylebone Theatre, Rudolf Steiner House, 35 Park Road, London, NW1 6X

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/marylebonetheatre

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/officialchristinelahti