Reviews

“Deeply satisfying, camp, and somehow cosy” ★★★★ ½ If you’ve ever wondered who that stranger is you sometimes see on the bus, or that guy who’s always sat in your local pub, then ‘I Pie With My Little Lie, Something Beginning With Murder’ is for you – because you’re about to find out who they could be. This fantastic solo comedy welcomes us into a local greasy spoon by the river, where we unwrap the hidden inner lives of an unassuming regular crowd. With a brilliant Mark Lyminster in all the roles, we’re served a straightforward series of vignettes linked together by our weary server-host’s narration. It’s not necessarily the recipe that makes this solo show so special; it’s the cooking and raw ingredients, like a nice steak. The 60-minute piece is simple – but utterly engaging from start to finish. They’re just really good stories, told really well. We meet a transplantee with a shady family history, a vengeful quizzer, an uppity book club chair, a cottaging youth, all with one thing in common: they have in one way or another committed murder in the most domestic and unshowy of ways. The sheer ordinariness of these individuals bears the twinkly darkness of some of Roald Dahl’s best adult creations. And like that literary master, Lyminster makes use of whimsical wordplay throughout, with an alliterative motif appearing like the Grim Reaper to signal death is on the way. It feels as though these irresistibly likeable killers inhabit a parallel world, reflecting back our own, where complicated evil makes us laugh and the everyday becomes macabre. It’s a madcap, random idea that never tries too hard. Not only is this a quality script that I think would make an equally good read, but Lyminster is a second-to-none comedian, conjuring a cast of colourful characters with the warm and cheeky charm of Victoria Wood. His delivery is terrific, folding the audience into laughter with a single glance. And he’s clearly a fantastic actor, able to create such double-take realism in his caricatures that once or twice I thought our protagonist’s limp was a sign that he’d actually injured himself during the performance – then it would effortlessly disappear. With the donning of a hat or a pair of glasses, Lyminster dissolves into his characters around the café without the need for gimmicks; he barely changes but somehow changes completely; his deployment of the occasional accent is refined for maximum comedic effect. This is a confident and capable performer. Overall, I Pie, is a rare gem: deeply satisfying, camp, and somehow cosy. Completely non-threatening despite all the death. Lyminster himself is gold and the script is stellar, a gift for any actor. The only critique is that the show could possibly be elevated even further with a co-writer, just to help polish off some of the lines. Lyminster’s delivery of even the weaker moments is excellent, so I reckon still greater heights could be achieved. But that doesn’t diminish the enjoyment of it as it is. If you’re hungry for a good laugh, find a performance of I Pie, or anything featuring Mark Lyminster for that matter. I know I will: because I could definitely do with another slice. I Pie With My Little Lie, Something Beginning With Murder Hen & Chickens Theatre, 15 & 16 August 2026 Written & Performed by Mark Lyminster Directed by James Wren Produced by The Hatchery Reviewed by Alix Owen

‘tackles some important themes with sensitivity and humour’ ★★★ The obscurely named The Whisper Comes Before The Plant is a flat share dramedy about a young woman in an abusive relationship with her inner voice. Writer and performer Nia Braidford leads the cast as Faith, a relentlessly uptight 20-something looking for a lodger. Enter Timmy, with the aforementioned pot plant. He is sweary, outgoing, frequently shirtless and, Australian. In a hugely likeable performance from Louis Walwyn , his superhuman tolerance and compassion prove to be a much-needed antidote to Faith, who is gloomy in the extreme. But you can hardly blame her for that when she is haunted by a physical embodiment of some dark corner of her own psyche or past, who spouts a torrent of demands and abuse. As The Whisper, Sonny Pilgrem lends his resonant voice to a role strictly limited to a narrow range of emotion, and indeed, lines. Still, he cuts an imposing figure with a strong presence and suitably ghoulish air. The Whisper’s dynamic with Faith is a compelling idea and a rich opportunity for nuance and depth. Their relationship is the cornerstone of the story, and its development represents Faith’s character arc. However, that development rests entirely on Faith’s responses to The Whisper, while his lines remain repetitive and one-note. The plot also leaves something to be desired. There is a well-conceived and dramatic climax, but too much of the story is interpersonal and introspective, rather than arising out of any real action. Technical operator Iqbal Garewal makes fair use of the simple lighting equipment on offer to add dimension and colour to the serviceable set, and the sound design is atmospheric. The two elements come together in a montage-style transition in which a few weeks pass by in flashes. This standout sequence shows thoughtful work from debut director Wesley Bozonga . It is a brief foray into non-naturalism which I would have loved to see taken further, much like the part of The Whisper. The Whisper Comes Before The Plant tackles some important themes with sensitivity and humour, and showcases promising creatives. With an hour to spend on live theatre in a fringe setting, you could certainly do a lot worse. The Whisper Comes Before The Plant by Nia Braidford, directed by Wesley Walwyn at The Hen & Chickens Theatre 13 – 16 August 2026 Part of Camden Fringe Instagram therainbowroomproductions

‘A magnetic solo performance that commands total attention.’ ★★★★ The Death of Hundun centres on a young female protagonist whose soul is symbolically carved four times, laying bare her deepest fears and her darkest struggles with bipolar disorder. This deeply moving journey navigates the fine line between self-destruction and rebirth. By blending reason with chaos, the performance challenges the audience to experience the powerful collision between human emotion, philosophy, and the physical body. The story is inspired by the classic text Zhuangzi’s fable of Hundun, a legendary faceless creature in Chinese mythology that personifies primordial chaos, unformed energy and disorder. The creature was rewarded for its hospitality towards two rulers by being offered sensory orifices, but it died after the seventh hole was carved into its body. An illustration that trying to force artificial order into Chaos (Hundun) can destroy its natural essence. The small rectangular black box theatre was cleverly transformed into a circular stage, creative works of the set designer Yixuan Wang. Neon lights outlined the borders of the stage and strikingly white coloured furniture was scattered on the floor with one mattress leaning against the black backdrop. The performer’s dramatic graceful physical movement maximizes the use of the restrained stage space, offering the audience a glimpse of her life and her quest for acceptance in her relationships, her work life, connections with her family members and seeking breathing space through trips to the seaside. When Wandi Liu starts laying the furniture sideways on the floor and dances over and around them on the floor, it was a delight to realise that we, as audience, were being presented with a ‘bird eye’s view’ of her exceptional physical performance. One drawback. The 60-minute monologue is entirely delivered in Chinese Mandarin, with English subtitles projected on the black fabric curtains backdrop. The production's heavy focus on physical theatre magnified the difficulty and challenge for non-Chinese speakers attempting to follow subtitles simultaneously in order to make sense of the narrative. Liu delivered a magnetic solo performance that commands total attention. A beautifully executed physical theatre one-woman emotional monologue, co-written by playwright Roccia Zhang, and performed by actor-director and co-writer Wandi Liu under the movement direction of Lettie Liuby with the assistance of a large creative and production team is being staged for the Camden Fringe and the Edinburgh Fringe. Camden Fringe Festival at Etcetera Theatre 12 – 14 August Edinburgh Festival Fringe at Greenside Theatre 24 – 29 August daily at 11:25 AM BOX OFFICE https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/the-death-of-hundun Team Members Director: Wandi Liu Producer: Qiaoran Li, Xiaoyu Wang Playwright: Roccia Zhang, Wandi Liu Performer: Wandi Liu Executive Producer: Jiaxin Du Co-Director: Yi Wang Acting Coach: Yudun Wang Dramaturg: Yi Wang Artistic Supervisor: Jiawen Chen Movement Director: Lettie Liu Set Designer: Yixuan Wang Lighting Designer and Operator: Baysalt Composer, Sound Designer and Operator: Ganey Zhang Marketing Manager and Assistant Producer: Rulin Ma Stage Manager: Linger Wen Photographer: Peter, Wendy

‘A delightfully holistic experience and the music lingers on in the mind.’ ★★★★ An aspiring writer, Rudolfo, falls in love with a young woman, the gentle Mimi, only to find out that she is very ill. They are both so young and struggling with poverty, how can he cope with this? This is the devastating story of La bohème. The pair are contrasted with another couple, Rudolfo’s friend and painter, Marcello and the extravagant Musetta. In a neat reversal, the story focuses on bohemian culture, making Mini the outsider. This Summer, WATERPERRY OPERA FESTIVAL, founded in 2017, comes under the new leadership of Artistic Director and CEO John Savournin. LPT magazine first met Savournin and his company Charles Court Opera at King’s Head Theatre London (in the days when it was a humble pub theatre). With Savournin’s exquisite sensibilities, we can expect further great things from this festival and its commitment to nurturing the next generation of artists while widening access to opera. The season showcases two operas, performed in English: Donizetti's The Elixir of Love and Puccini's La bohème. Donizetti's comedy The Elixir of Love is presented in partnership with Savournin’s award-winning Charles Court Opera, and Puccini’s La Boheme is presented by Waterperry Opera Festival Orchestra. Using the stunning backdrop of Waterperry House and Gardens, the opera is shown on two levels with two stages, an orchestra ‘pit’ and a winding staircase rising to a balcony. With performers also arriving from the gardens, the available expanse is used to much advantage. The story now updated to 1939, is set here at Waterperry House, where Mimi is a gardener. If the first half of the opera has the feel of a low-budget production, the real enchantment begins after the interval, at nightfall with magical lighting effects, the transformation is worth the wait. In the glare of the natural light, the curtains of both stages are not very attractive and do not open without a little tug. The orchestra is half hidden by screens which seems a strange choice until they are revealed in all their splendour when audiences return from the break. If the earlier party scene of the bohemians and their unconventional lifestyle has varying success, then the later scenes of Mimi dying are really powerful. The earlier aria of ‘Your Tiny hand is Frozen’ is later cleverly emphasised when Musetta walks down the grand staircase, sporting a brand-new pair of red leather gloves whilst Mimi is dying. It makes absolute sense when Musetta attempts to find money to engage a doctor, and gives Mimi a pair of mittens. Of course, we all know that it is all too little, too late. The lighting really does charm and immediately sets the scene for a very emotive second half, and the music is really stunning. It is worth having played down the first half to fully appreciate the romance and power of Puccini’s memorable music. It stays in the mind long after the performance has ended, exactly as it should. The performances that really shine on the night include Faryl Smith as Mimi and Ceferina Penny as Musetta. Robert Forrest and Patrick Dow as Rudolfo and Marcello respectively, also impress with their duet. Also, praise for Oskar McCarthy who brings a lot of fun to his role as the despised Benoit (the property owner and landlord – does nothing change). It really is an holistic experience, with many festival goers taking advantage of the tea rooms, and the gardens. Some brought picnics and others opted to take advantage of the restaurant marque. With an interval of one hour and fifteen minutes there is sufficient time to dine midway through the opera, relax and enjoy the whole event making it a rather special occasion. LA BOHÈME at Waterperry 8 - 15 August 2026 BOX OFFICE https://www.waterperryoperafestival.co.uk/2026-la-boheme THE ELIXIR OF LOVE at Waterperry has ended but performances of this opera are available at Wilton’s Music Hall in London 8 – 19 September, box office https://wiltons.org.uk/whats-on/the-elixir-of-love/ CAST Rodolfo: Robert Forrest Mimi: Faryl Smith Marcello: Patrick Dow Musetta: Ceferina Penny Schaunard: Owain Rowlands Colline: Alaric Green Benoit: Oskar McCarthy YOUNG ARTIST CHORUS Soprano: Lucy Breakwell Soprano: Tia Radix-Callixte Mezzo Soprano: Cerys Herbert-Stott Tenor: Tom Law Baritone: Will Jowett ARTISTIC & PRODUCTION Conductor: Bertie Baigent Director: Ruth Knight Set & Costume Designer: Jennifer Gregory Lighting Designer: Ben Pickersgill Assistant Set Designer: Hannah Kuchar Movement Director: Taira Foo Young Artist Assistant Director: Anne Sutton Head of Music: Ashley Beauchamp Répétiteur: George Ireland / Aleksandra Myslek Production Manager: Sean Laing Associate Production Manager: Thomas J. Quine Stage Manager: Andrew Holton Deputy Stage Manager: Phoebe Francis Assistant Stage Manager: Emily Pettican Costume Supervisor: Jade Newman Turner Sound No.1: Nicolo Conti Sound No.2: Harvey Graham Photography by Julian Guidera

“The harmony of direction and movement is excellent” ★★★ Like Tchaikovsky himself, Child of Glass has an identity crisis – otherwise known as ‘a theatrical fusion of music, ballet and drama’. This near two-hour concert-cum-play-cum-monologue-cum-dance tells us the story of Pyotr Tchaikovsky from childhood to untimely death. It does this using a programme of his best pieces, a small cast of four, and a pianist. The premise is simple, but easy to disappoint. If nothing else, because that fusion means we don’t know what we’re seeing. More than one audience member clearly expected an opera, but got more of a biographical play, not particularly helped by the misnomer in this case of the venue, Opera Holland Park. And again, stunning though the venue is, the overriding feeling you get in the first few minutes is that this stage overwhelms the small, albeit ambitious, production. And as vibrant as Tchaikovsky’s music is, not even that can fill the cavernous space when played only on a shining grand piano, chiefly because it’s crying out for a string quartet accompaniment. Indeed, the orchestra pit sits tauntingly, smirkingly, empty throughout, full of thick electric snakes, those behind-the-scenes wires. The pianist, Jayson Gillham (also musical director), is of course incredible, and his subtle inclusion in the action (drinking when Pyotr drinks, coughing when he coughs) is a nice touch. He, along with our ballet soloist Teo Debreuil, is the real star of the show. But again – was I expecting this? No. It’s not billed as a piano recital – in fact the marketing material shows violinists in the background. It’s not exactly a dance either, though this is where it is strongest; and then the programme describes it as a play, but I’m not sure that works either. The harmony of direction and movement is excellent though: Tchaikovsky’s internal struggles with his sexuality soulfully play out in liquid limbs and lunges, scaling the full tonal spectrum. The man himself appears in the opening, dressed comically as the Grand Dame of the dance and progresses through rigidity to sensuality, while ballet soloist Teo Debreuil, plays his innermost desires embodied, slinks around him, pushing and pulling and tempting, becoming all the loves of his life. Matheson, as Tchaikovsky, is no dancer though; and while admittedly, neither was the real man, this for me ruins the illusion. No one can match Debreuil, but yet dance plays an important part. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, but it can’t be half and half of each. These dance sequences, by choreographer Stephen Wicks (who makes an amusing but underappreciated cameo towards the end of the production), are where the show most comes alive. A beautiful solo from Debreuil in the second act easily steals the show with its eye-catching shower of roses and infinitely elegant poses. It’s befitting of the huge stage and proves that the small size of the cast isn’t why Child of Glass doesn’t fill the space. It’s because it is spreading itself too thin. Same again for the other stand-out moment, a satisfyingly dramatic denouement of raging petals and tossed papers as Debreuil throws himself around the grand stage. But there aren’t any of these moments in Act One and far too few in Act Two. And here, like Pyotr’s lost loves, is its major missed opportunity. Perhaps instead of a fusion, we could have had a ballet, and then this might really have been something. Margaret Steinbach’s lighting though is also befitting of the stage: rich and lush and reminiscent of dreamy Mediterranean opera houses. And Agnes Sharp’s luxurious set and costumes also do the trick. Don’t get me wrong, it all looks the part. It doesn’t LOOK small, it FEELS small. Nonetheless, it still doesn’t know what it is by the end. One of the biggest flaws in my view could be alleviated by the simplest of rewording. ‘Child of Glass: The Life of Tchaikovsky’ makes more sense. Because that’s what it is. It’s a tiny but significant change. For the layman – and this is a perfectly accessible show that everyone can enjoy, so that shouldn’t hold it back – what are you booking when you’re booking ‘Tchaikovsky: Child of Glass’? Is it an original opera? Is it a dance? Is an opera written by Tchaikovsky? Is a concert? And I hazard a guess that the very last of these questions, if it occurs at all, would be ‘is it a play’? And the answer to all of them is kind of no. But that can be its strength if an audience expects it. As it is, I don’t think they did: one or two were even falling asleep… And you’re sort of left wondering when it’s going to start right up until the moment it ends. Now and then it makes sense – a dramatic monologue from Pyotr followed by a virtuoso performance from Gillham. But it doesn’t stick to this format. It becomes a dance. Then a drama. Now neither. The thing is, you can’t argue with Tchaikovsky. He’s a crowd pleaser and I could listen to him all day. But in Child of Glass, I ended up longing for the final note. Tchaikovsky Child of Glass 13-15 August 2026, 7:30pm Opera Holland Park (Ilchester Place, London W8 6LU) Tickets from £35: https://operahollandpark.com/productions/tchaikovsky-child-of-glass/ Creatives Writer/Director - Tama Matheson Music Director/Piano - Jayson Gillham Choreographer - Stephen Wicks Cast Tama Matheson Suzy Kohane Oliver Holland Téo Debreuil Reviewed by Alix Owen

 ‘Intelligent play, with very promising material.’ ★★★ ½ Gorgeous writing from Tej Panesar exploring human loneliness and the part that AI might play in the future. This is a well chosen debut production from Molonok Theatre Group and offers a new perspective on human’s interaction with humanoid robots. It is an intelligent play, which doesn’t tell us straight away that of the two characters in the play, one isn’t human. In a discussion about philosophy, the woman (Katherine Bristow) appears to have superior arguments, to the man (Gilles Guillain). All becomes clear when we are introduced to the fact that she is AI. The play begins with the man alone in his room, as he announces that he’s not sure that he exists. We know very early on that this is a French obsession with philosophy, but if anyone should wonder whether ‘nothing ever happens’, it certainly does. One of the best aspects of the early scenes, are the words attempting to describe the spaces ‘between’, the empty space, the lost spaces, that no one talks about. The man says that it ‘takes him 40 minutes to become a person in the morning’. Most of us can surely relate to that. He’s broken up with his partner and in discussion with AI, he comes to terms with his loneliness and is faced with the decision of whether he should act, rather than just accept that his companion will be non human. It’s more than one debate; one about human reliance on AI and one about how far we are willing to give up on relationships because they’re tough. The debate on AI reminds us that we have all created it, in more than the sense of technological achievement, but because it embodies all our social media posts and everything else keyed in by us online. There is a tendency to give AI human characteristics and this play also falls in that ‘trap’, which is a little disappointing, a little too easy, and also misleading but so much is right about this play. It isn’t only the writing which is refreshingly elegant. Director Nadia Khivrych has used a slower tempo giving particular emphasis to some areas of the play. Bristow as the humanoid robot looks perfectly natural, rather than robotic in any sense. It is in her apparent arguments, confidence and self-assurance that we see she isn’t the insecure mess that many humans are, and this superiority makes her believable as a non-human character. Guillain as the man is also pleasing in his role. It may take a few nights to settle into the performance it could become, which is a shame because this is Camden Fringe. Short runs are the norm. There are a few issues with clunky changes of scene. The dream sequence and the physical theatre section feel a little disjointed from the rest of the play. The soundscape is very promising but possibly may need extending (or not). A very promising debut from this Molonok Theatre Group offering something a little different. This piece could do very well indeed with more time to develop its full potential. LA FENÊTRE, Molonok Theatre Group, Playing at the Etcetera Theatre Part of Camden Fringe from 13–16 August. BOX OFFICE https://camdenfringe.com/events/la-fenetre/ Molonok Theatre Group instagram: https://www.instagram.com/molonok_theatre/

‘Carruthers is a fine storyteller.’ ★★★ Verging on horror, with plenty of power play, this is one for fans of Stephen King. Performed and written by Thomas Carruthers, he plays a failing actor who is persuaded to pose as a psychic medium but in this creepy story Vincent’s sense of self is eroded and subverted. Along the way Carruthers also takes on the voices of two women, the mother, Martha, and the daughter, Prudence. Both these characters manipulate Vincent, who might think he is in control but eventually something rather twisted takes over. Carruthers is a fine storyteller; the writing is bold and often very humorous, with many popular culture references. It also a believable story, as Carruthers sets it up so well. Vincent is quite camp and has already attempted a drag act which didn’t go down too well with his mother; the similarity to herself not being well received by her. Vincent is a flawed character, and Carruthers has a lot of fun playing the role. While Carruthers is convincing in the role, it doesn’t convince in other ways. The play premiered in Lawrence Batley Theatre and Carruthers Yorkshire accent is very refreshing on the London stage. However, the ‘camp act’, does feel a little overdone in London, where so many plays are saying more important things about ‘queerness’ and redressing old wounds. There’s nothing wrong with pure entertainment of course and Carruthers has already had many successes travelling the world with Cunard Cruises, and his other work, includes farce musical Up North, Downtown which premiered at the Royal Court Theatre. With his production company, Righton, he has produced three plays, The Pageant Play, Ronnie and Clive and Are You There, Mother? Happily, Curruthers is bringing his new play, Conflict of Interest , to London (at The Hen and Chickens Theatre, Islington 1 – 3 October) after a successful run in Sheffield. Directed by Jazmine Sewsanker, this Legal Drama is set in Philadelphia and promises to be another hit for Carruthers. ARE YOU THERE, MOTHER? By Thomas Carruthers, Camden Fringe until 14 August 2026 BOX OFFICE https://camdenfringe.com/events/are-you-there-mother/

“Who or what is real and do we perhaps envy that which isn’t?” ★★★★ Who or what is real and do we perhaps envy that which isn’t? Winnie (Cara Crofts) is terminally ill. The robot carer she designed, Eliza (Pearl D’Souza), is perhaps the closest thing she has to a friend. D’Souza’s performance charms, blurring the line between robot and human, until both Winnie and we are left questioning just what truly gives us humanity. The simultaneously depressing but comforting answer we arrive at seems to be that humans eventually rot. This is the tonal line that Maariya Khalid’s writing treads with precision. In this tightly woven, witty two-hander, there are no pretensions about the realities of being ill, both mentally and physically, nor are there overly heightened moments of drama. We are given a glimpse into one evening of Winnie and Eliza’s life together – making risotto, watching Love Island, Winnie teaching Eliza to joke. The production is small in scale and scope but feels intentional in its focus, as Crofts’s portrayal of Winnie allows her loneliness and grief at the loss of her old life seep into every second of this 50 minute show. One critique though, is of the show’s ending, as Eliza wishes Winnie goodnight and Winnie lays down to go to bed. Despite the production having earlier established its slice-of-life, real-time style, this feels like an abrupt end both to the characters and our night. It feels as though the show could use a moment of breath as it ends. Yet, overall, this is a promising piece of new writing, featuring two actors whose undeniable chemistry allows them to play easily off one another, and an endearing meditation on the end of a life. SICK DOG by Maariya Khalid, directed by Lily Gilchrist (Green Door Theatre Company), Bread and Roses Theatre, 11-13 August 2026 Tickets are available from the Bread and Roses Theatre: https://app.lineupnow.com/event/sick-dog?utm_source=ig&utm_medium=social&utm_content=link_in_bio

‘taut, tightly directed and choreographed and strongly acted, but the star is a near 30-year-old script’ ★★★★★ It’s not often you walk out of a show wondering if they have tickets for the next night and the rest of a sadly brief run. If they do for Tape, get them quick before it goes because this is some of the most powerful, focused, thoughtful, painful theatre on the fringe right now. It’s also a prime example of how a perfect script underpins any five-star performance. The show is taut, tightly directed and choreographed and strongly acted, but the star is a near 30-year-old script whose dialogue sizzles as its three characters navigate an eternal love-hate triangle Jon (Nick Chinn) is a film-maker on the verge of his big break, a first showing of his movie at a regional film festival. To town has come Vince (Paul Kelvin), ostensibly to celebrate his oldest friend’s success, but himself a struggling fire-fighter and drug addict whose current girlfriend has just left him. At first, their meeting in Vince’s dingy motel room is all catch-up and beer-sogged nostalgia. Until the conversation turns to Amy, Vince’s girlfriend 10 years ago when they were all in High School, who, after she left him, slept one fateful night with Jon. And since Amy (Brittany Rex) now lives in the town where the movie festival is happening, why not give her a call? Without giving spoilers, this is a real-time hour of ever-ratcheting tension as memories, perceptions and interpretations of the events that happened to the three of them 10 years ago are unravelled, re-ravelled, never quite fully revealed. The play’s themes, like any brilliant script’s, are too many to summarise, but the nature of friendship, particularly male friendship, the relations of boys and girls to the grown men and women they become, the unreliability of anyone’s memory of or personal perception of a key event at which others were present or of which they have heard glimmer throughout. All of which sounds a bit theoretical but is delivered in razor-sharp, rapid-fire dialogue that tells its story precisely but obliquely and shifts audience perceptions of what they have seen and heard as the short play proceeds. Performances are uniformly good: Vince is twitch nervy, potentially dangerous from the first second, Chinn increasingly sweaty and nervous as his brittle confidence evaporates, and Rex shifts from vulnerability to strength both for real and almost at will as she, now a Deputy District Attorney, increasingly takes control of what’s unfolding. The tight space of the Lion and Unicorn helps raise the tension, the two men prowling the space for the first half and more of the play, sharing, competing, eventually fighting for control before the woman’s arrival changes the dynamic entirely. These are three people who have loved each other in varying degree and may hate or at least mistrust each other now – no longer perhaps likely to have become the friends their younger, inexperienced selves were. The hour flies by, a joy to the eye and especially the ear as the dialogue does its ambiguous work, and the conclusion comes all too soon. The script’s dating shows (Enya, Jim Carrey and Home Alone are key references for these guys), but its age does not, since the themes of how men relate to women and to each other remain as universal now as they did three decades and more before Tape was first produced in New York. A gem. Catch it while you can. TAPE by Stephen Belber Directed by Jamiee Doyle for Cellar Door Theatre Lion and Unicorn, 11 to 15 August Part of Camden Fringe Festival Box Office: https://camdenfringe.com/events/tape/ Reviewer David Weir’s first novel The Honourable Member for Murder was published this month and a second in the Westminster Mysteries series will follow next year. His award-winning plays include Confessional (Oran Mor, Glasgow), Better Together (Jack Studio, Brockley, London), Murdering the Truth (Greenwich Theatre), The Normandy Conquests (Sussex Playwrights’ prize) and Legacy (Bruntwood prize longlist).