'It's hard to imagine things getting back to normal after this though. I don't suppose they do from now on, not really.' 

In the kitchen of an old Devon rectory, the daughter who stayed and the son who moved away make conversation with their current and former partners, the milkman, the postman, the care workers. They talk about the weather, the roads, the toaster, the bins. About anything except the simmering tensions between them, as their father lies mortally ill in the next room.

Until the unspoken emotions and conflicts of years boil over.

Eclipse is a painfully funny, acute and delicate play about our struggle to communicate, in the face of life and of death – and our infinite capacity for drinking tea. It was first performed in the Minerva Theatre at Chichester Festival Theatre in 2026, written and directed by John Morton.

'Gosh, this is good... like a more modest, more English Chekhov, these crisply funny, mountingly tender two hours offer not much happening and everything happening... Morton knows that a line like "no, yeah, no" can speak volumes in the right context... he nails it here... perfectly pitched between the tender and the absurd' — The Times

'A quiet triumph... precise and devastating' — Financial Times

'A finely crafted family drama with shades of Alan Ayckbourn... John Morton specialises in the sort of English talk that either means nothing at all or something completely different from what was said... apparently bland exchanges that sing with subtext... It was a risk that there might be no new theatrical life in death but Eclipse has found it' — Guardian

'Subtle... beautifully observed... both believable and moving... it is in the ordinariness of the script that this play really sits most comfortably. Battling with a temperamental toaster, discussing the benefits of a £12 pair of glasses from Boots or the divvying up of a Chinese takeaway are all moments of relatability that lean the audience into the mounting grief. As with Morton's brilliantly observational TV work such as Twenty Twelve and W1A, this is where his skills as a writer lie and he recognises that sometimes the power is in the unspoken rather than the spoken... It's the simplest of moments [that are] the most moving of all' — WhatsOnStage

'Touching and truthful... Affectingly elegiac yet full of warm humour... feels thoroughly authentic... a sharply observed play that catches all the brittle vulnerability and awkwardness of the conversations we have during a loved one's last days... both intimate and poignant' — The Stage

'A delight... deeply real and moving... written and performed with real love and care... a beautifully understated piece which resonates with something deeply human in us all' — Theatre & Tonic

'Beautifully observed and written with a lovely level of humour woven into it... faultless... If we could give the show six stars, we would' — West End Best Friend