Reviews

‘What if I am already half gone?’ ★★★★★ I’m Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Too is a production that explores Bipolar Disorder, Identity and Relationships in a way that is impactful and original. The show opens in a pre-set; all actors on stage, the set fully laid out across the space as the audience filters in. Something that separates other pre-sets from this one is that actors seem to usually interact with the audience as themselves. For anyone having read the show’s blurb, this opening feels like a surprisingly warm welcome. This production can pride itself on its attention to detail. Clothing, set design and lighting all work to define a cohesive blend. At the beginning we absorb a warm autumnal palette, that, throughout the play progresses into cooler tones. Perhaps a visual analogy for Victoria’s mental state. The set design begins as Victoria’s home; that then shifts into various locations; what is clear about this work is that we always know where we are. In a narrative in which Victoria’s world is so fragmented by Bipolar Disorder, our view of the happenings remains focused. Paired with this intimate venue, there is a vulnerability in how we are in Victoria’s home amongst her things. Dialogue feels natural and relatable as this work examines in-depth topics. Atterbury’s writing allows actors to breathe, move and leaves room for plenty of subtext making layered, complex scenes. There are plenty of funny moments in there too, nodding to the closeness and intelligence of the characters. In addition, the humour provides a light and shade effect that has the audience laughing along. The love triangle is well thought out and nuanced; it’s not about two men fighting over a girl, a through line we often see, but rather a woman that is in control of the dynamic. Victoria seems to be the driving force. The play’s director Olamide Candide-Johnson… guides her cast to exhibit peak, consistent performances and presents us with an all rounded, stand-out show. As well as strong performances individually and as an ensemble, actors had a grounded physicality in the space too. The production is well staged and seems to meld perfectly with the space. This vulnerable piece is made most visible by Candide-Johnson. In an almost in the round style theatre, we see the actor’s expressions at all times. The writer and leading actress Coline Atterbury whose credits include appearances on BBC, Channel 4 and numerous stage productions; gives a dynamic, contrasting and chilling performance as her character Victoria. She takes a journey that is believable; its pace builds tension and suspense. Atterbury skilfully balances both subtlety and expansiveness in her performance; making this writer’s debut of hers all the more human. Charlie Coombes as Mark has a warm and humorous presence as Victoria's boyfriend. His honesty and openness endears. He has strong chemistry with Atterbury and plays across from her well. His stability further outlines Victoria’s instability when she is at her worst. Andrew Hawley as Leon is a charming, sharp witted character and has a playful rapport with Victoria. While Leon is equally as caring he brings out a different side of Victoria. He battles between love and allowance as he watches her spiral. Connection and intimacy is a principle aspect of this show; closeness, romance and intensity is expertly directed by intimacy coordinator; Vlad Troncea. The focus on relationships in this play is prominent; it highlights how our own mental health affects those around us and our partners. Transitions between scenes felt fluid and were accompanied by sound designer Marie Zschommler, who selected music that was fitting for the scenes. I’m afraid of Virginia Woolf, Too is entirely relevant. The production raises conversations around Bipolar Disorder and mental health that weren’t being had during Woolf’s time. This show was met with a well deserved standing ovation. You will laugh, cry and gasp as you see this journey of identity and ambition unfold. Whether you are familiar with Virginia Woolf’s body of work or not, this is a riveting story to follow. A fantastic contemporary production with classical literary features; this is one to watch. I'm Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Too Voila Festival Barons Court theatre 4 – 9 November BOX OFFICE https://www.voilafestival.co.uk/events/im-afraid-of-virginia-woolf-too/ Writer: Coline Atterbury Director: Olamide Candide-Johnson Cast: Andrew Hawley, Co line Atterbury, Charlie Coombes

“a trilogy of terror” ★★★★  Stephen Smith’s homage to the work of Edgar Allen Poe has been marinading in its grisly pot since 2021. After rereading some of his favourite tales during Covid, he created a solo performance from some of the stories for stage. Since then, One Man Poe has travelled across the globe to the US, won the Spookies, Best Horror Show at Edinburgh last year and this year was lapped up by more legions of gothic lovers with a nationwide tour that completed its run at Brockley Jack Studio Theatre in time for Halloween season. For those new to Poe, or the one man show, this accomplished performance by Smith recreates three of Poe’s short stories: The Tell-Tale Heart, The Pit and The Pendulum and The Raven. All are stories of tortured men, be this psychologically or physically, who wrestle with inner demons and find no peace in their lives, ever. Plagued, haunted, or agitated either by their own consciences or the dark acts of others, the sensibility is pure Victorian Gothic with all the richness of language and familiar tropes this entails. Poe’s twisted imagination has been highly influential in the horror genre, interpreted for film & TV, so even if you are new to Poe or the one man show, it feels like familiar territory. This theatrical experience and journey opens with Smith suffused in a blood red light, his back to the audience, pulling at his hair. Welcome to the edge of sanity where there is no safety or succour. Technically, the use of sound design by Joseph Furey and Django Holder, is excellent throughout, effectively enveloping and transporting the audience to a dimension of unsettled spookiness enhanced by intense lighting effects. Smith uses all the tools of his trade in a physical and emotionally demanding performance. In this trilogy of terror, hair, make up, costume, fake eyes all convey the guilt of a murderer, the paranoia of a torture victim and the psychosis of a grieving man. It’s similarly demanding for the audience because the language is so dense, rich, constant, sometimes cloying, that eighty minutes seems far longer. Everything is so thoughtfully laid on, from the storytelling to the staged environment to the sound, that the audience become lulled, deactivated, and hypnotised by the torrent of words. This said, you cannot fail to be impressed by the sheer commitment to the tales of Poe and all his mad man, lovingly recreated with all their fabulous fallibility and failings. Nor the integrity of Smith as a performer and theatre maker, clearly passionate about his craft and the American maestro of the macabre he honours with this one man show. For Edinburgh, 2026, Smith intends to add two more Poe stories to the mix: The Business Man and The Facts in The Case of M. Valdemar. He also plans to make a short film of The Black Cat currently being crowd funded (link below) Go Poe Go! Photography: Kat Humphries www.greenlit.com/project/support-threedumb

‘Everybody wants to see a scary story at Halloween; they got what they came for.’ ★★★ Halloween, and what more appropriate subject to start with than a whole load of dead bodies. Archaeology may be a bit on the dry side for some but murder conjures up a more gripping subject for all. However, this performance started off as a formal lecture on the subject of the archaeology of bog bodies, so convincing that for a moment I thought I had misread something and ended up in the wrong place. We were fed interesting info about bog bodies being murdered or sacrificed and preserved in acidic peat bogs. Then came the mention of ‘the curse’ and echoes of Tutankhamen rang out as we discovered the fate of people involved with the bog body. The body on the mortuary slab in the background looking for all the world like the proverbial ghost under the white sheet, was if you like, Alfred Hitchcock’s revolver so it was just a case of when would it go off? After a brief interactive element where the audience was invited to tell of their scars, the connection between the physical and mental was made. Scars of past relationships suggesting revenge, remorse and retribution were on the cards. Technical details of bog bodies evolved into technical problems in the lecture theatre and a well choreographed sequence followed which was enhanced by a convincing bit of physical theatre where the victim was dragged backwards by one leg by an invisible being. Sane and normal was disturbed by themes of mental and physical injury as the lecture turned into the horror story we were all waiting for. Everybody wants to see a scary story at Halloween; they got what they came for. Predictable but then what else would we expect? An interesting feature of the story was that the bog body was a woman, possibly a witch or sacrifice or ritual killing as it had rope marks round the neck indicating the cause of death was strangulation and not drowning in the bog. Apparently this is a common feature of bog bodies and did I also hear that so is the fact that most of them are women. Still victims after all of this time, showing us a stark connection with the all too common modern theme of women being punished or scared or victimized in horror stories. Coincidence too that all in the production were women so was it pointing the finger at all of us men? Grouping us together as males and condemning us by collective punishment because the misogynistic element gives us a bad name by continually regurgitating the trope where the victim is once again the terrified woman? How would it have appeared if the lecturer had been a man and he ended up being terrified? I haven’t seen that play yet.  Although there was one person in the play, quite a lot was going on on stage most of the time which made for fast paced action and the 45 minutes flew past. A one woman play by Olivia Cordell / Developed by Audrey O’Farrell / Directed by Emily Hawkins / Photography by Kelly Powers BOX OFFICE https://www.etceteratheatrecamden.com/events/bog-body-zezmx-5tdaf

‘an impressive debut in confident storytelling’ ★★★★ We are in a coal-scarred, intimate space that glistens in blackness beneath the lights. A rugby shirt is cast to one side, and we hear the heart-tugging sounds of Welsh children’s choirs. Stephen Jones, not quite eighteen, is on a glorious high, having just scored the winning goal that’s propelled his team into the finals. At first, he speaks to someone unseen who is unresponsive and then to a young woman, his sweetheart, Angharad Price. Writer, Liam Holmes as the irrepressible Stephen Jones performs alongside Mabli Gwynne as Angharad who is more mature and grounded. This sweet love story moves fluidly through time, and the duo present engaging performative chemistry, sparking off one another, flirting, scheming, and dreaming with a joyful musicality to their diction, proudly undulating and Welsh. Angharad hopes to go to Australia and study law. To Jones, even Cardiff seems like a distant land. He feels secure here in Aberfan. The title of the piece, Mr Jones, an Aberfan Story, might suggest a disaster play, on an epic scale perhaps with elements of documentarian story telling. Nothing could be further from this personal and banterish two hander of 80 minutes. The Aberfan national disaster of 1966, in which 144 died including 116 children at the local primary school when 150,000 tonnes of black coal waste descended to bury them alive, makes Aberfan a premier league black spot alongside places like Hillsborough and Dunblane. But beyond an ominous wind that blows and a rumbling in the distance, something like “thunder” but that goes on “too long” - an effectively unsettling sound design by James ‘Bucky’ Barnes - the disaster is never spelt out or explained. The power of the play works on the same principle as the film, The Zone of Interest, by Jonathan Glazer which depends on the audience already knowing what carnage is happening in the background. Through the experience of two young innocents - Angharad is a local nurse so up close and personal to the disaster while Stephen finds himself catapulted into the centre of the storm – this is a disaster distilled – and those who know of the tragedy will feel it in their gut. The horror is all in the subtext and what the audience bring to the drama. But those who don’t know the Aberfan story, who perhaps didn’t do their research or read the provided material, will struggle to understand where it’s going or to fill in the gaps. We learn through the characters, it wasn’t just bodies buried beneath the coal waste, but the hopes and dreams of a generation. The trauma cut deep and the grief of those left behind affected all those around them. Mr Jones, An Aberfan Story explores survivor guilt and the trauma experienced by the those who awake one day, to find their family or friends inexplicably vanished. It’s an impressive debut in confident storytelling by writer/actor Liam Holmes that elevates the work beyond exposition into pure feeling, expression, and experience. MR JONES AN ABERFAN STORY at Finborough Theatre 28 Oct – 22 Nov 2025 Finborough Theatre, 118 Finborough Road, London SW10 9ED 28 October – 22 November 2025 BOX OFFICE https://finboroughtheatre.co.uk/production/mr-jones/ Photography: Ali Wright

‘I can’t remember a better musical theatre ensemble on a pub theatre stage’ ★★★★ Spoiler alert! There are no Moomins in this show! First published in 1970, Moominvalley In November was the final novel in the Moomin series and was written by Tove Jansson at a time of profound sadness and grief in her life. Thus it is no surprise that this gentle, introspective story focusses on themes of uncertainty, loneliness and a need to belong. So, with a subtle but charming appearance by Moonmamma, Moominpapa and Moomintroll, here we focus on six strangers meeting up and in a Godot-esque way they are all waiting. A nice set up in a charming novel with interesting characters - but is it a musical? For me, and this is hardly new thinking, the great musicals are driven by 3 things - the songs, the singing and the story. Adapted by Hans Jacob Hoeglund, Moominvalley in November ticks 2 of these boxes and that’s a pretty decent return. For transparency - I’ve always loved the Moomins. The writing and characterisation is challenging and deep but the drawings (and later video) are joyful and really fun. For a while I got our daughter into the Moomins and still have the figurines from an advent calendar - and some of those figures are the players here. So, six very different characters arrive at a rain-soaked Autumnal Moominvalley all searching and waiting for the Moomins themselves - and so much more. Hobbit-like Snufkin is seeking music. Grandpa Grumble is seeking his very self. The Fillyjonk lives in Moominmamma’s shadow and is seeking a kind a freedom. Mymble is seeking her independence. The Hemulen is seeking order - but with a sense of fun. And Toft is seeking a family and a place. Now, it is highly useful to know something of these characters in advance albeit there is depth here and we get a clear understanding of their foibles and worries, hopes and dreams. Their interactions are swift and mixed - they laugh, they cry, they argue and they storm on and off the small Gatehouse stage. And, ultimately, we reach a denouement of joyful hope. In between times there really isn’t much of a narrative let alone a plot. In its original context of the novel that is fine but for a piece of musical theatre it left me wondering what was going on more than a few times and, for the young half-term members of the audience, there was, alas, confusion and ultimately a little disinterest. Hoeglund has been true to the book but for the show to truly fly it really needed a clearer beginning, middle and end. However, the songs and the singing are a triumph and a delight. From the opening ‘Moominvalley’ through to ‘A Family Picnic’ and Toft’s poignant closing of ‘I Can See Them’ the tunes are largely all killer no filler with smart transitions and each character given a moment (Fillyjonk’s ‘Beautiful’ is another standout track). The singing is first class and I can’t remember a better musical theatre ensemble on a pub theatre stage. The vocals soared from the well drilled cast who had great chemistry and presence - just a delight. All the performances were strong and I’ll pick out 3 from the cast of 6. As Toft, Izzie Winter is all eyes and ‘looks to camera’ exhibiting the loneliness of a lost soul. They also have a wonderful singing voice. Jane Quinn’s Fillyjonk is bold and brash but vulnerable and, again, what a voice. Martin Callaghan’s Grandpa Grumble brings humour and warmth but, at times, can snap and bite - very good. All of this is underpinned by Lu Herbert’s transformed Gatehouse stage which just screams ‘Moomins’ on entry and allows the cast to roam free. The on stage band of 4 led by musical director Manuel Gageiro go through the gears of joy and pain with violins, double basses and flutes. The Gatehouse has never looked better. Ultimately I’m not entirely sure who this musical version of Moominvalley in November is for - maybe it’s just for everyone? Moominvalley in November Book, Music & Lyrics by Hans Jacob Hoeglund Upstairs at The Gatehouse BOX OFFICE https://upstairsatthegatehouse.ticketsolve.com/ticketbooth/shows/1173665742/events/428727916  Photography: Simon Jackson

‘sublimely intelligent script and a well-judged performance’ ★★★★ The scene is set by a clever and simple lighting design (by Will Hayman) which suggests a boxing ring. This solo show starring James McGregor charts the progress of his character, Man, through his amateur boxing career whilst studying to be a doctor, through to his work as a professional cutman. If Man, doesn’t feel totally convinced that he wants to work in the Medical profession, his mind is made up for him when a dilemma forces him to choose between his hypocritic oath and his passion for boxing. For anyone, who knows nothing about boxing, (I’m putting my hand up here), the play has insider knowledge of the raw emotions, the toxic masculinity, the opponent who becomes the nemesis, and the sheer guts and bloody mindedness of the game. The real professionals take the hits, so that they can give back. There’s more insider knowledge of the job of the Cutman with words like, adrenaline to stop the bleeding, coagulants, brandy, honey, cotton buds up the nose, ice, raw eggs and ‘cement’ (we are not spared the gruesome description of the necessity for using this). A sublimely intelligent script, THE PROBLEM WITH THE SEVENTH YEAR, won playwright Nicholas Pierpan the Cameron Mackintosh Award for New Writing. First performed as ‘The Cutman’ at Theatre Ulm, Germany in 2009, this new production is pared back to the bones of James McGregor’s stupendous performance. Under the direction of Paul O’Mahony, McGregor gives a truly convincing, deeply masculine, performance. The character has internal struggles, aptly played by McGregor without any sense of self-pity. The addition of a love interest consolidates the feeling that we’re witnessing a realistic story. Man has feelings of inadequacy, to which we, the audience are privy, whilst the outward appearance might be one of confidence. Man is a character that clearly is a ‘feeling’ person, one moment scared of going into the ring, and then forgetting the pain in the buzz of the game. It is wonderfully universal, the kind of stuff that everyone goes through, in any sphere of life, the push and pull, the insecurities, the decisions to be made, sometimes, are just made for us. In one episode of the play, let’s call it the denouement, Man is faced with an argument about abstract thought and that words are necessary to express it. He refutes this. He gives a pictorial example of how words are not necessary. It’s a moment in the script which shows how we can all be drowning, weighed down by invisible forces. No matter how hard we struggle, we are sometimes overcome and just give up. It’s a beautiful and at the same time an horrendous moment which has resonances later in the script. McGregor as Man, looks the part too, his physique and his movement with the occasional sparring, upper cuts, right or left hook. It’s a truly well-judged performance. THE PROBLEM WITH THE SEVENTH YEAR by Nicholas Pierpan at White Bear Theatre 28 Oct – 15 Nov 2025 BOX OFFICE https://www.whitebeartheatre.co.uk/whatson/the-problem-with-the-seventh-year Cast: James McGregor Director: Paul O’Mahony, Artistic Director of Out Of Chaos Theatre Company Producer: Sarah Roy, 19th Street Productions Set and Costume consultant: Lu Herbert Lighting Design: Will Hayman Sound Design: Raffaela Pancucci Photographer credit: Lidia Crisafulli

 ‘intriguing and engaging’ ★★★ In a world more interconnected than it’s ever been, how is it that people stay lonely? One of the many questions implicitly asked in a 2014 Pulitzer Prize finalist play that makes connections across three centuries via three men and a machine all named Watson. It's a tricksy, playful, meta script. Douglas Adams’s entirely untrustworthy private eye/shyster Dirk Gently used solemnly to intone the fundamental interconnectedness of all things to his clients when he couldn’t explain what he was billing them for. Here, it’s the audience who spend a happy pre-interval 80 minutes confused by what can possibly connect the leaps in time and location until things fall more into focus in the play’s second half. The basic plot, deeply buried, is the marriage break-up of Eliza (Hanna Luna) and Merrick (Brandon Burke). She retreats into creating Watson (Hugo Linton), an artificial intelligence prototype (this was written in the early 2010s), while he runs for political office in an attempt to regain some significance. But there are other Elizas and Merricks in the stream of history, two of them caught in a late 19 th century Sherlock Holmes story in which Dr Watson (Linton again) seeks to solve mysterious marks on Eliza’s skin. And two more ‘Watsons’ flicker into the lives of the Elizas and Lintons – a computer dweeb who’s helping modern Merrick is hired to tail his separated wife only to form a relationship with her, and the 19 th century Mr Watson who has a real historical cameo in being the first person to receive a phone call from Alexander Graham Bell. Confused? You will be, but the intricate workings of the play are well worth your concentration, not least because there are so many ideas being played with, you’ll never catch them all. The invention of the telephone’s a crucial starting point in our development of an electronic world: where Bell and his Mr Watson managed a call from one room to the next, we can now speak to any part of the world instantaneously. And the mischievousness of the playwright’s there in her creation of the four Watsons, too – Dr Watson is, of course, fictional, while Mr Watson is, of course, a real historical figure of whom we know little, and Watson the computer geek is ‘real’ but fictionally created for the play, and Watson, the artificial intelligence machine, both real and unreal, humane and inhuman. Pick of the performances comes from Brandon Burke, especially in the scene where he visibly transforms from the modern bitter husband to 19 th century crazed inventor. He finds an energy, variety and rhythm that bring out the playfulness of the script. The set’s clever, too – multiple spaces well designed and differentiated in a small stage that needs to cover a lot of time and space. Overall, though, the show could do with more range in pace and tone – it’s composed of quite long scenes and while the transitions between them are beautifully handled so that we’re always clear where we are, there’s an absence of variety and sometimes energy in the way they play out. The tendency to play each scene in much the same style obscures much of the humour in the lines. In the end, though, intriguing, engaging and an array of ideas that keep you asking questions long after you’ve left the theatre. THE CURIOUS CASE OF THE WATSON INTELLIGENCE By Madeleine George Directed by Julie Drake for 5go Theatre Co. Rosemary Branch 28 October to 1 November 2025 (and Drayton Arms 14 to 18 October) Box Office: https://www.rosemarybranchtheatre.co.uk/shows David Weir’s plays include Confessional (Oran Mor, Glasgow), Better Together (Jack Studio, Brockley, London) and Murdering the Truth (Greenwich Theatre, London).

‘a tremendous stab at doing something new with a play that the best directors of every generation have tried to adapt to their purposes’ ★★★ “There was a Brutus once that would have brooked “The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome “As easily as a king.” Julius Caesar is the best political play ever written; or at least the best I know of. It shows us that people do the same sorts of thing in pursuit of power, whether they live in a contemporary liberal democracy, a modern dictatorship, or a medieval kingdom. Shakespeare, who had never seen a democracy or lived in a republic, wrote a play which could easily be about Donald Trump, with the leader wanting to steal the state, to make his rule permanent and absolute, and to stifle all competing sources of power; to be a king. If I ever direct this play, it will be about Trump. That’s why JC is so frequently performed in modern dress. Its descriptions of political methods are as contemporary as The West Wing. The arguments Cassius uses to bring Brutus into the conspiracy to kill Caesar mirror how our politicians behave to each other. Caesar’s vacillation about whether to come to the Senate, combined with his firm declarations that he never vacillates, are the behaviours of every weak leader who wants to look strong. And the extraordinary speech by Mark Anthony, in which he turns a hostile crowd into an ugly gang that will do exactly as he tells them, is a masterclass in political propaganda. I do not know whether Joseph Goebbels was familiar with it, but I think it is very likely. So when I hear that a new theatre company is doing something interesting with JC, I’m inclined to go along and see what it is. Tangle’s claim to have “a high energy African-inspired adaptation” was enough for me to get my passport out and travel from North London all the way to South London. High energy and African inspired it certainly was. As we walked into the auditorium, there on the stage was a round disc upon which slept an African warrior, who woke as the house lights went down, and had no rest for the next two hours. Yaw Osafo-Kantanka was the hardest worked actor in the production. Though he is billed as simply playing the soothsayer, he is given lines that Shakespeare gave to other characters, included Casca’s wonderful speech about the storm: “Are you not moved when all the sway of earth / Shakes like a thing unfirm?” For my taste, he was a little over-used, but that does not detract from his performance, which was tremendous – tireless, energetic, charismatic and committed. Directors often set JC in different contexts, countries and times because it works, and Anna Coombs is no exception. Her time and place are not clearly defined, but the lines as written serve her purpose very well, and the only change I noticed was to accommodate the fact that she had a female Cassius. I have always thought the Brutus-Cassius relationship would work well with a female Cassius: the Bridge Theatre proved it a few years ago, and it is proved again here, aided by an excellent Cassius (Samya De Meo) – not the cynical manipulator we are used to, but a true republican, genuinely appalled by looming dictatorship. Her Brutus (Remiel Farai) was a little less assured, I suspect because he has limited experience of speaking Shakespearean verse. Sadly the night I saw it, the actor playing the crucial part of Mark Anthony was ill. Samater Ahmed did a thoroughly professional job of standing in for him, script in hand. A clever touch was to have Caesar and Octavius Caesar played by the same actor (Roland Royal 111 – young, attractive, charismatic, dangerous) – thus cleverly making the point that after all that bloodshed, we just get more of the same. So did it all work? Sort of. It’s a tremendous stab at doing something new with a play that the best directors of every generation have tried to adapt to their purposes, but its weakness is not knowing exactly what political point it wanted to make. I felt the noise and music and pyrotechnics were not used to a political purpose, so they blunted the play’s sharp political edge. JULIUS CAESAR by William Shakespeare, adapted and directed by Anna Coombs, produced by Tangle Theatre Company at Omnibus Theatre in Clapham Box Office https://www.omnibus-clapham.org/julius-caesar-2/ CAST: Samya De Meo / Remiel Farai / Yaw Osafo-Kantanka / John Pfumojena / Roland Royal III Photography: Stuart Martin

“The perfect trick or treat” ★★★★ W.W. Jacobs’s ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ is a classic early twentieth century horror story, instantly giving it an extra chill by virtue of its age and the mysteries of history. At its heart though, it’s a story about the dangers of messing with fate and the consequences of the weight of grief. So just in time for the darker nights, this new production at The Hope Theatre, adapted by Infinite Space Theatre and directed with precision and imagination by Leah Townley, reimagines the Edwardian ghost story into a full-length play set at the dawn of the first World War. We follow John and Jenny White (Steven Maddocks and Josephine Rogers), a working-class couple whose life is thrown into turmoil when John brings home the titular tiny paw from the British Museum archive where he works. This single grotesque hand will go on to unpick their lives by granting a series of wishes, big and small, each of which will come with a deadly price. Right away, the production’s greatest strength lies in its meticulous and immersive mise-en-scène – these are high production values for the fringe, and a real treat. Hannah Williams’s set design is rich with detail and atmosphere, the stage dominated by great sheets that hang like oppressive ghosts, swallowing the space in a sad, spectral gulp as soon as you walk in. The props, designed by Gisela Mulindwa and Gabi Maddocks, are equally as impressive: from a chilling mummified baby to the puppet-like imaginary child and the unsettlingly shrivelled paw itself. Sound and light too are expertly handled by Peter Michaels and Alex Forey respectively, who together create a cadaverous stage presence where every creak and shadow build tension and unease. Against such a strong visual and atmospheric backdrop though, the performances occasionally feel overshadowed. Maddocks and Rogers perform heartily and are solid throughout, but perhaps comparatively weaker – though Rogers’s later monologue in the final act is a surprising last flourish. Credit, though, to the highly effective opening few scenes, which introduce the audience to the story of John and Jenny White. These set the tone of the piece form the off with a simple and creative movement montage taking us through their life. This technique is followed throughout the whole production, with chillingly simple portrayals of miscarriage, war, and madness. The downside of this, however, is that due to the seamless use of metaphor elsewhere in the play, it does get itself a bit TOO convincing with the blurring of the real and the imagined, to the point that there were many moments I became unsure of what exactly was going on; whether their son Herbert was a living being or not; whether the action was playing out on stage or in the mind; whether time, or place, had passed, and how much. Now, in this sort of genre, it kind of works, but I don't think it's deliberate in this case and often ends up leaving things feeling a bit restlessly unsatisfying, like an unfinished yawn. Notable though are the parallels with the current cost of living climate and the Whites' own heartbreaking financial struggles, giving the whole piece an eerie timelessness and timeliness in more ways than one. So overall, this is an excellent, classy, and classic ghost story for the spooky season, staged with intelligence and flair. So grab your pumpkins as soon as you can and head to The Hope for the perfect trick or treat. The Monkey’s Paw by W. W. Jacobs Devised, written and produced by Infinite Space Theatre Directed by Leah Townley The Hope Theatre, 21 Oct – 8 Nov 2025 Box Office: https://www.thehopetheatre.com/themonkeyspaw Reviewed by Alix Owen