by David Weir
•
12 August 2026
‘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).