The debt that we owe Alan Turing cannot be underestimated. Not only for his vital and secret work in cracking the Enigma code, which fundamentally changed the course of the Second World War, but also his understanding of the potential that computers can contribute to the world. The young, idealistic, fresh-faced Turing would dream of an electronic machine that could, with encouragement from Man, think for itself. A pipe dream, surely? But one look at how AI is already encroaching on everything we see on our smartphones is enough to realise that Turing’s vision has come true.
But Turing was much more than just a brilliant brain, as Hugh Whitemore’s gripping and heartbreaking Breaking the Code makes crystal clear. Whilst at Sherborne school he became emotionally, and possibly sexually, attached to young Christopher Morcom, a fellow student who tragically died of tuberculosis at the age of 18; such an event would devastate anyone. The true nature of their friendship remains the subject of speculation, but it was Turing’s homosexuality, at a time when sex between men was illegal, and considered a matter of gross indecency, that would dominate his private life and lead to his eventual downfall.
Originally produced in 1986, Breaking the Code has truly stood the test of time and today feels more relevant than ever. This new production is co-produced by the Royal and Derngate with Landmark Theatres and the Oxford Playhouse, in association with the Liverpool Everyman & Playhouse and HOME, Manchester, and will tour after completing its run in Northampton. Whitemore chose a complex structure – would you expect anything else from Turing? – that plays with time, starting with his initial meeting with detective Mick Ross, reporting a somewhat vague and unlikely burglary, then following Turing’s journey from school to Bletchley Park, interspersed with his friendships with chief cryptographer Dilly Knox and co-worker Pat Green, his continued association with Sherborne, his involvement with the duplicitous Ron Miller, and the increasing suspicions of the police. Drawing the various influences in his life together in this non-sequential manner increases our sense of the overall patchwork which combined to form the man, and Jesse Jones’ clear direction removes any complications so that the story is easy to follow.
An epilogue scene has been added by Neil Bartlett which brings Turing’s legacy into the present day, and emphasises how, over the intervening years, Turing has been fully recognised as a hero and pardoned for his “crime”. It ends the play on a high note of positivity and optimism, but it also brings into sharp focus the fact that those hard-fought rights for equality we take for granted remain perilously close to being lost with no more than an ill-advised X on a ballot paper.
Jonathan Fensom’s simple set works hand-in-hand with Johanna Town’s evocative lighting, with just occasional changes of props and furniture, to suggest all the locations of the story. One very clever trick, just to light the top windows of the set, instantly places us in Turing’s prison cell. Fensom’s costumes also accurately convey the middle-class, educated world of Bletchley Park and Sherborne, with a decent contrast in the epilogue where the sixth former enjoys a relaxed uniform and the modern staff watching him include a recognisably modern PE teacher.
At the heart of the production is a verbally demanding, robust performance by Mark Edel-Hunt, powerfully conveying Turing’s mental dexterity and his outward reserve that conceals an emotional turmoil within. His ability to make complicated ideas sound comprehensible means that when he gets overcome with the excitement of his work, he loses his stammer and becomes an effortless communicator. Rarely off stage, Mr Edel-Hunt convinces you that he is the real Turing, with a fully rounded portrayal of both man and brain.
Engaging in a polite but firm battle of wits with him is Niall Costigan’s detective Mick Ross, suspicious from the start, bearing no ill will but just doing his job. Peter Hamilton Dyer gives a scene-stealing performance as the aging, eccentric, but incisive Dillwyn Knox, and Susie Trayling is superb as both Turing’s formal mother Sara, emotionally distant yet full of surprises, and the wryly intimidating Intelligence Officer Smith. The always reliable Joe Usher is brilliant as Ron, eyeing up Turing as a vehicle for cash; and there’s great support from both Joseph Edwards as Morcom and the Sixth Former, and Carla Harrison-Hodge as Pat.
Two memorable scenes stand out: the riveting moment where Ross interviews both Turing and Miller separately, but it appears that all three are crowded around the table at the same time, in a fantastic piece of direction from Jones. There’s another great scene where Pat and Turing are having a picnic meet-up and he tells her of his oestrogen treatment; he laughs at it, but the archaism and cruelty of the punishment make the laughter ring hollow today. He then goes on to say he should have married Pat without an ounce of self-awareness and Ms Harrison-Hodge’s facial reaction is a treat!
A play that’s both hard-hitting drama but also filled with rewarding comedy, given a clear and timely revival full of immaculate performances. After Northampton, the tour starts in Barnstaple, then goes on to Oxford, Peterborough, Liverpool and Manchester. Highly recommended!
Production photos by Manuel Harlan








