Review: CATARINA AND THE BEAUTY OF KILLING FASCISTS, National Theatre
Photo credit: Joseph Banderet
Very rarely does this reviewer feel the need to disclose this in a review. Part of the job, for reviewers, is to leave our own worldview at the door and analyse, as objectively as we can, what worked in a piece and what didn’t. But this time, I think it matters to say that I am Portuguese, which means that this deeply historical, intensely specific, yet ultimately universal world is one I recognise in a way that inevitably shapes how I experienced this play.
There are many things to be said about Catarina and the Beauty of Killing Fascists, Tiago Rodrigues’ provocative 2020 play, now receiving its UK premiere at the National Theatre. Set in Portugal in 2028, it follows a rural family whose seventy-year tradition is to kidnap and execute a fascist once a year. When the youngest, Catarina, refuses to carry out her ritual, the family is forced into a confrontation with its own beliefs and with the question of where the line between resistance and intolerance actually lies.
The writing feels as though you could hand-pick almost any line at random and find something intense, daring and beautifully provocative. Yet it is the whole that works so beautifully. The whole ensemble dynamic feels lived-in and familiar. There is never a question about the relationships, or the love between these characters, even when their beliefs pull them violently apart.
And this is where the play's relevance becomes particularly striking. It is deeply specific to the Portuguese landscape: the lunches that carry on for hours, the oak trees that are scattered throughout the country, to a history that still feels close enough to touch. The years separating the play's 2028 future from its present are surprisingly few, and that brings an urgency to the message.
Rodrigues’ brilliance lies in his ability to weave in and out of politically intense scenes with poignant dialogue to light-hearted moments with ease. Even the funniest monologues carry important themes underneath them.
There are also details that may escape an English audience. Portuguese, like many languages, assigns grammatical gender to words and pronouns. In a mixed group, the masculine plural is traditionally used, but in this world of Catarinas, the female pronoun is deliberately used for everyone. It is a small linguistic choice, easy to miss through subtitles, but one with a significant meaning.
The message is clear, but deliberately inconsistent. That's the point. The arguments feel incredibly lived-in because nobody is simply right and nobody is simply wrong. Catarina is justified in her questions. Her mother is entirely believable in her answers. Both have experienced censorship at different levels, and they are, in many ways, the same, and yet profoundly different.
The play never settles comfortably into an answer.
It is also asking a difficult question about tolerance itself, and Rodrigues does not hand the audience a resolution; instead, he builds the debate carefully and then refuses to resolve it for us.
The production has become known for its deliberately confrontational final scene, and its reception has included walkouts and protests, which is a testament to just how directly it challenges the audience. Perhaps that is why the final moments feel so uncomfortable. After spending so long listening, debating and forming our own position, the audience is suddenly confronted with something that refuses to let us remain in control.
There is something particularly significant about seeing this production arrive at the National Theatre. This is Portuguese theatre, in Portuguese, carrying a very Portuguese history onto one of Britain’s biggest stages.
And at a moment when the political landscape in Portugal has changed considerably since Rodrigues first imagined his 2028 scenario, the play's questions inevitably land differently now. Chega became the second-largest party in Portugal's 2025 parliamentary election by seats, while André Ventura reached the second round of the 2026 presidential election.
Ultimately, Catarina, who had already obtained such relevance, becomes even more so to the current far-right movements taking over many European governments and while it understands that theatre does not always have to tell us what to think. Sometimes its job is to keep the conversation alive, to disturb the comfortable answers we have inherited by lighting them on fire and seeing where they go.
***** Five stars
Reviewed by: Beatriz Ferreira
