Reviews

‘Pretty special’ ★★★★ ½ Families fall out but love each other. They bear grudges. Parents feel guilty about children and children, as they grow up, resent parents. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Human nature hasn’t changed much in the two and a half millennia since Aeschylus penned his trilogy in which a family takes those feelings to extremes. Simon Stone’s modern version – effectively a three act play – is one of the most arresting pieces of drama you’re likely to see this year. He starts with a family arguing about a 21 st birthday party they’re preparing for in prosperous middle-class Sevenoaks. It ends, three and a half hours later with a lot of blood, severe mental disturbance and a cast so wrought by what they’ve just done that they can barely smile at curtain call. Lizzie Clachan’s set is one of the cleverest designs I’ve ever seen. It gives us a complete two storey house on the revolve complete with kitchen, sitting room, utility, bedrooms, bathroom, hallway and staircase. Most of the action takes place inside behind glass (all actors mic’d) except when they’re on the doorstep or in the garden. We look in as outsiders and can see characters going about their business in other rooms as the main action takes place in a different space. And, as a device to ensure that it feels totally three dimensional, we are continually and deliberately disconcerted by the frequent rotating and shifts of focus. And that, of course, also allows the presumably very busy, backstage team to adjust furniture and props in the rooms we can’t, at that moment, see. The quality of acting from the cast of nine plus a handful of understudies in minor roles, is remarkable. All are so powerful that the characters they portray linger long after you leave the theatre. Stand-outs include Mary-Louise Parker as Montie, the Clytemnestra figure who murders her husband (David Morrisey as Christopher – good) because she can’t forgive him for the death of their daughter. Parker finds intensity and complexity in a woman torn apart by grief, anger and passion. And it’s rivetingly painful to watch. Tom Glynn-Carney is glitteringly good as Augie – the son who has an Oasis poster in his bedroom and plays the guitar rather well – but gradually morphs into a deeply troubled psychotic murderer incarcerated in an institution and haunted by his father. And there’s a magnificent performance from Rosie Sheehy as Alice, loosely representing Electra. She starts as a lippy twenty-one-year-old (hilarious take-off of her father’s accent) and develops into a serious, often deeply distressed, young woman working hard to improve the world. Somehow Sheehy ages before our eyes. Stone’s script neatly and imaginatively comes up with plausible twentieth century reasons for some of the tensions. Christopher works for his brother, Mel (Lloyd Hutchinson – strong) in a huge international tech firm which is, it emerges, providing ethically questionable equipment to war zones. When the plot requires Augie to disappear, he is sent to, and deeply traumatised by, Afghanistan. Lloyd Hutchinson becomes a Kent police officer, and subtly absorbs some of the quasi-chorus role. It’s profoundly moving, beautifully staged and often very funny. I have only two minor caveats about this electrifying show. First, Stone’s dialogue is impressively observed but it sometimes takes naturalism too far. Characters are often very angry and then they shout over each other – as people do. The trouble is that if you try to replicate that in theatre the audience cannot hear what is actually being said. Second the plotting includes many time shifts, forward and back. Although, these are clearly signalled in surtitles: Ten years later, four years earlier and so on, it isn’t always easy to remember exactly where we are in the chronology. But it’s still unmissable. Photography: Johan Persson The Oresteia Aeschylus, reworked and directed by Simon Stone At Bridge Theatre, Southwark 3 July – 19 September 2026 BOX OFFICE https://www.bridgetheatre.co.uk/whats-on/the-oresteia/ Writer and director Simon Stone is joined set designer Lizzie Clachan, lighting designer Nick Schlieper, and casting director Jessica Ronane CDG. Cast Mary-Louise Parker Montie Mary-Louise Parker David Morrissey Christopher David Morrissey Tom Glynn-Carney Augie Tom Glynn-Carney Rosie Sheehy Alice Rosie Sheehy Lloyd Hutchinson Melville Lloyd Hutchinson John Macmillan Jerome John Macmillan Archie Madekwe Lorenzo Archie Madekwe Alyth Ross Jenny Alyth Ross Rakhee Thakrar Chandra Rakhee Thakrar Seán Donegan Understudy Christopher & Melville Seán Donegan George Renshaw Understudy Augie George Renshaw Andy Umerah Understudy Lorenzo & Jerome Andy Umerah Emily Waters Understudy Alice, Chandra & Jenny Emily Waters Kirsty Yates Understudy Montie Kirsty Yates Creative Team writer & director Simon Stone after Aeschylus & Others producer Wouter van Ransbeek set designer Lizzie Clachan lighting designer Nick Schlieper casting director Jessica Ronane CDG sound designer Peter Rice costume designer Emma White music by Katrina Rose production manager Jim Leaver associate director Benedict Crosby associate lighting designer Guy Jones costume supervisor Anna Josephs props supervisor Lily Mollgaard fight director Sam Lyon-Behan

‘Left wanting more? That’s hardly a bad thing.’ ★★★ ½ The conceit is simple. Three (sort-of) schoolfriends wake up in an unknown locked room next to a former classmate they scarcely remember. A gun is found, alongside a note promising that within an hour one must die, or all will. So follows an enjoyable yomp through teenage amorality, bullying, and the philosophical worth of an individual life. There is an inevitability to proceedings. Despite all initial arguments to the contrary, this is only going one way - we don’t need a certain Russian to know that gun is getting fired – but it’s an enjoyable experience all the same. The cellar-like space, stripped bare of Flymo’s and old Christmas lights, clearly amps up the pressure, as do the slow reveals of past cruelty and lonerish oddness of Matthew (Adam Walker-Kavanagh). Our disbelief suspension faculties are tested at times, largely by the supposedly private expository duologues conducted in the corners of a room smaller than a Zone 1 Studio, used to quickly establish the simmering tensions between Benny (Max Luck), Elsie (Maisie Bagley) and Ali (Adele Marie). Likewise, Matthew’s outsider status and designation as terminal pigtail-pullee suggest an obviously deeper role in proceedings, an initial suspicion that is never truly challenged and ultimately proves correct. That being said, the illusion holds, and Robert Emlyn Slater’s script is genuinely funny, pacy and the good kind of bleak, with real moments of tension. The excellent cast delivers throughout. Luck and Bagley conjure a depressingly believable former couple, setting aside their imminent demise to obsess over break-up accountability and/or bicker with Marie’s Ali, who proves a delightful pot-stirring chaos agent, almost tragically unable to understand why she does what she does. Walker-Kavanagh is just wonderful as Matthew, faultlessly conducting proceedings and providing the biggest moments of levity and threat. Lorna Hale’s direction is also first-rate, with a clear respect for both the performers and audience, ensuring the regular jokes and pop culture references don’t come at the expense of terror. Throughout, there was a joyful sense of behind-the-scenes trust and collaboration. The Cabin started off as a ten-minute rehearsed reading and to a certain extent still feels unfinished. The ending is rushed and while the denouement raises interesting questions about online revenge culture and the legacies of social isolation, there is no time for these to be explored. In the end though, with the superb acting and direction, we can easily forgive those sins, and this work would shine as a fringe show in Edinburgh or somewhere more affordable. Left wanting more? That’s hardly a bad thing. Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/the_cabin_play/ Written by Robert Emlyn Slater Directed by Lorna Hale Cast Max Luck Maisie Bagley Adele Marie Adam Walker-Cavanagh Photography: Rhodri James

“will have you hookah, line & sinker.” ★★★★★ The Bhangra beats are banging at Chunkyz, a hot spot Shisha lounge for Muslim bros who want to let off steam with a hubble-bubble hookah. Here, three old pals, all Pakistani-British young men, hang out, tell stories, make jokes and look to the future. Rashid has a chequered past and did time in a young offender’s institution but hopes to start a women-only gym, a safe space “for the Aunties.” Asif wants to meet a nice, “wifey” but home life is complicated. Jihad, the only one who went to university had hoped to be a journalist but just can’t find the breaks. When a competition from a new media platform offers the chance for an “authentic voice” to have their own podcast made, Jihad goes for it - at his pals’ insistence. Chunkyz is the inspiration for Jahid’s submission and when he wins, he finds himself thrust into the world of production, deadlines and audiences. The characters who represent the media are very different from his friends. Privileged, business-minded and angendered, they arrive on stage dangerously wreathed in dry ice. Jihad has no idea he has just made a Faustian pact. Blue Mist is the assured, audacious debut from Mohammed-Zain Dada. First seen by Royal Court audiences in 2023, it's now back for July 2026 and after its stint at the Theatre Royal, it will present at Birmingham Rep and Leicester’s Curve Theatre. It’s a bold three-hander and the entire cast shone: Azan Ahmed as Rashid, the physical alpha male; Kashif Ghole as sparky Sif who multi-roles as poker-faced Fiona, his female editor. Omar Bynon plays ambitious Jihad, the one with everything to gain - and lose. Innovatively and brilliantly directed by Milli Bhatia, Blue Mist packs a punch and keeps the audience riveted for an hour and a half with no interval. It captivates first hypnotically with frenetic music and contemporary dance, then emotionally through the deep friendship evidenced by the bros, who’ve known each other since childhood. The dazzling dialogue meanwhile, a combination of Punjabi prose mashed with street talk keeps ears on stalks and minds alert. Physical comedy, satire and endless gags just keep coming in this energetic, multi-cultural, multi-layered piece. But through the fantastic characters and emerging story, what unfolds is something societally darker and more damning. The comedy and banter are a terrific Trojan horse that cleverly explore racism, fear, Islamophobia and the perpetuation of stereotypes. Blue Mist illustrates how fake news and authenticity have become almost interchangeable in this age of disinformation and can have devastating consequences for individuals and communities. While the final act has a whiff of soap opera, it comes from a place of truth and pain in this skillful, impressive piece. Here, the arts succeed where the media so often fails and Blue Mist will have you hookah, line and sinker. Boundless Theatre in association with Tamasha present: BLUE MIST Written by Mohamed-Zain Dada | Directed by Milli Bhatia National tour 17 June – 30 July Full details and box office

‘Very stylised and highly theatrical piece of theatre’ ★★★★ ½ Seeking attention, two seventeen-year-olds devise a prank, involving a stolen gun, When a shot is fired from what was supposed to be an empty weapon, someone is hit, and the boys go on the run. They find an abandoned warehouse where the tragedy unfolds. The show is billed as a dark comic thriller and the laughs come think and fast along with some truly poignant moments. The stakes keep rising until the very end when, in a heart stopping moment, the final crime is committed. It is devastating. The two actors, Aryaman Krishna Aggarwal and Vrishab Wig, play off each other wonderfully well and are totally in sync when needed. In their entrance, when they are running away, their footsteps mirror each-others with a constant pounding rhythm which is kept up far longer than could have been expected – almost to the point of wondering when the show will begin. Every scene in this 90 minute production, is taken to the maximum which in this day of fast media feels risky, but because it is so beautifully executed by the actors, it is easier to stay engaged. The characters are two youths who desperately want to be seen, but who don’t have the maturity to fully understand the consequences of their actions. Hiding out in the warehouse, they discuss various ways out of their situation. Some of these are fantastical and others sensible, such as ‘go home to mum’. Along the way their home situations are revealed, both have pressures and serious teenage angsts. These are likely to be relatable to their peers, and to parents of teens. Shashwat Srivastava shows his skill as a playwright and director, with detailed observation of the pressures young people have today and the impact of technology. He shows the two youngsters on the cusp of adulthood – looking like grown-ups on the surface but mostly still children underneath. It is a very entertaining show, augmented by choreographed scenes. Two of these stand out, particularly the dance scene and the combat game when the boys are playing make believe and enjoying some escapism. These scenes are inventively arranged by Vishakha Chakravarty, and performed immaculately. The producers, Joy of Drama, take young performers beyond the classroom and into the real conditions of professional theatre, where training meets practice. This show is a bold and dynamic piece of theatre which tests the limit of the actors’ abilities. Talented actors, Krishna Aggarwall and Wig rise to the challenge with intensity and precision. LIVE! FROM THE WAREHOUSE by Shashwat Srivastava at the White Bear Theatre 7 – 18 July 2026 FULL DETAILS AND BOX OFFICE https://www.whitebeartheatre.co.uk/whatson/live-from-the-warehouse Cast Aryaman Krishna Aggarwal as Tanmay Mishra Vrishab Wig as Riyan Mascarenhas Megha Shigla as Riyan’s Mother’s Voice Creatives Script, Music & Direction: Shashwat Srivastava Assistant Director: Tom Kane Projection Design: Citrus Ink Choreography: Vishakha Chakravarty Costume: Sumbul Khan Sound & Lighting Design: Tyler Forward Creative Producer: Vaishali Chakravarty Produced by Mythologyworkshop & Joy Of Drama Photography: Deepan Singh View the Trailer on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzpNCa1SBkk

‘beautifully mundane and painfully familiar’ ★★★★★ There comes a moment when you realise that your parents are not simply your parents, but people. People like you. Soon afterwards, another moment follows: they begin to ask the questions, and you begin to care for them. The relationship quietly reverses. It slowly crumbles your heart. Is this what it means to grow old, or simply to become an adult? Love You Long Time explores a mother enduring hardship, a father trying to escape, daughters carrying inherited burdens, and pain passed down in silence. Following a Vietnamese family who migrated to the United States, it is not only a play about cultural identity, but about women and the intergenerational sisterhood between mother and daughter. People often say that mother-daughter relationships are difficult, but in many East and Southeast Asian families, the pressure to be a “good girl” can train women to tolerate pain rather than name it. This becomes even more complicated when customs, beliefs and old ways of surviving lose their usefulness in a new environment, while memories remain like cookies left too long in a mould: retaining their shape but becoming increasingly fragile. It takes considerable skill to find humour in material that could easily become sentimental and depressing. The mother’s repeated references to church and Christianity are especially effective, capturing something both specific and recognisable about many Asian American migrant families. Her faith is habitual and comforting, but also quietly comic. Katie Do’s writing is beautifully observed, and Jennifer Tang directs with care and precision. Cheng Keng’s lighting and Elena Peña’s sound are subtle but effective, while TK Hay’s papier-mâché walls create the sense that memory, time and physical space are crumpling together. The more emotionally intense a memory is, the more fragile it seems to become. The ensemble works seamlessly. Jon Chew’s portrait of Long is frustratingly real, while Tuyen Do gives Mai the anger, endurance and familiarity of an Asian mother without reducing her to a type. Molly Harris traces the daughter’s emotional growth, and Zheng Xi Yong supports the scenes with precision. The most moving moment comes when Mai no longer recognises her own daughter. Freed, however painfully, from the roles of mother and child, they communicate simply as one woman speaking to another. The loss is devastating, but it also reveals a new kind of intimacy. Everything in the play is beautifully mundane and painfully familiar to anyone raised in an Asian household of that generation, where a high tolerance for pain is almost expected. The repetition, obligation, religion, irritation and unspoken care feel exhaustingly familiar. These mundane details are what our lives are made of, and they deserve to be heard. BOX OFFICE https://theatre503.com/whats-on/love-you-long-time-already/ Writer: Katie Do Director: Jennifer Tang (Cymbeline, Shakespeare’s Globe) Cast: Jon Chew (The Good Person of Szechuan, Lyric Hammersmith), Tuyen Do (Shadow and Bone, Netflix), Molly Harris (Measure for Measure, Donmar) and Zheng Xi Yong (American Psycho, Almeida). Creative team: TK Hay (Set / Costume Design), Cheng Keng (Lighting Design), Elena Peña (Sound Design), Dam Van Huynh (Movement Director), Polly Jerrold (Casting Director), Ellen Rey de Castro (Costume Supervisor) and Zoe Zimin Ho (Voice and Dialect Coach), working in association with The Sông Collective , who are also providing cultural consultancy. Photography: Ikin Yum

‘Informative and well-acted but creaky’ ★★★ An actor who can perform in a full-length fur coat over a full silk Lulu outfit beneath which is a close-fitting body suit – while temperatures are in the mid thirties – wins my admiration. Full marks for stamina and somehow Bella Merlin manages to keep her make up on too. I wish I knew the secret. Merlin’s one woman play unfolds the life story of Tilly Wedekind, wife of the German playwright, Frank Wedekind (1864-1918) who predeceased her by over fifty years. It was a toxic relationship and there are a lot of references to poison and suicide in this piece although Frank and Tilly both died of natural causes. The contention is that Tilly never had a voice of her own. She spoke only the words Frank wrote for her and imposed on her in his plays in which she played lead roles. Then at the end of her life (she died in 1970) she wrote a memoir in which she describes their tortured, tumultuous, troubled but passionate and ultimately loving relationship. Merlin is a talented actor and riveting to watch. She leaps about, shifts in time, changes her voice and switches the mood in flash. She also sings, ably accompanying herself on a rather pretty oval guitar – at one point while balanced on a circus ball which is an impressive trick although it doesn’t add much overall. She has a finely articulated voice whether she’s speaking or singing and some rather nice bottom notes. And there’s some reasonably effective puppetry which enables her to speak, as it were, to Frank in his puppet form and to the smaller puppet which represents herself. Visually it works well enough with plenty of surprises in Kerry Jones’s set which includes several boxes. Pandora’s Box, was one of Wedekind’s “sex tragedies” and we’re presumably supposed to make that connection. Merlin herself springs out of a box at the start of the show. If you don’t know much about Frank Wedekind and his wife you certainly will by the end of this seventy minute play. Sadly however, that’s all it does – gives an autobiographical account. According to the programme the action takes place over three days as Tilly metaphorically recovers from poisoning and is, as it were, reborn. This is not at all clear from the play itself. TILLY NO-BODY Written and performed by Bella Merlin Directed by Miles Anderson Arcola Theatre, Studio 2 7 – 25 July 2025 BOX OFFICE https://www.arcolatheatre.com/event/tilly-no-body/ Photography: Barry Schwartz

“Funny, intelligent and sharply executed.”★★★★ Copenhagen has just had an atomic bomb dropped on it. Who is responsible? How should the British government respond? Have the Germans bested our strategy with a flash dance? Should Meghan Markle somehow be blamed for the atrocity? And, most importantly, where is Copenhagen anyway? These are all deeply pertinent questions in the top-secret Teams call at the centre of OPERATION BLANK, a scarily plausible black comedy about what happens when those in charge do absolutely nothing. Written and performed by George Grant, OPERATION BLANK is an inventive one-man show that skewers political inertia, online working culture and the frustrating nature of bureaucracy. Grant plays Junior, a young government minister desperately trying to convey the severity of the situation to his incompetent superiors, all of whom appear via pre-recorded footage within a projected Microsoft Teams-style meeting. The result is part political farce, part existential horror show, and sits uncomfortably close to the bone. The genius of the concept is that the catastrophe itself is almost beside the point. What matters is the response, or lack of one. While a European capital lies in ruins and all-out war looms, the meeting becomes consumed by procedure, optics, pointless deflection and an email about lumbar support. The title itself becomes a bleak joke: not to act, but to formalise inaction. Grant’s timing is excellent. The choreography between his live performance and the pre-recorded meeting is impressively precise, never feeling slack or gimmicky. The jokes come thick and fast, but beneath the absurdity sits a serious and timely argument: apathy is not neutral. Inaction is, in itself, a choice. As a performer, Grant is remarkably versatile. His characterisations are distinct, discernible and tragically recognisable: the blankly evasive authority figure, the body-obsessed military adviser, and a man who may have made a meaningful contribution but is stuck on mute. I particularly enjoyed Grant’s portrayal of the bumbling, useless Prime Minister, sprawled on a couch, disinterested in catastrophe and far more concerned with chair positions and pandering to the royals than preventing global escalation. Lighting and sound are kept minimal, allowing the piece to retain a naturalistic, almost mundane quality, which makes the situation feel all the more disturbing. The projector screen is used effectively, capturing the deadening rhythm of online meetings: the pauses, the technical glitches, and the horror of watching people discuss the end of the world with all the urgency of a quarterly admin catch-up. There are moments when the farce is so heightened it almost feels too ridiculous, until one remembers the actual state of modern government, at which point it begins to feel less like satire and more like a documentary with jokes. OPERATION BLANK is a funny, intelligent and sharply executed show with a frighteningly clear central idea. It understands that the danger is not always the loud villain or the dramatic coup, but the meeting where nobody takes responsibility, nobody makes a decision, and everyone hopes the problem will quietly go away. This is an ambitious idea, confidently realised. Smart, urgent and deftly performed, OPERATION BLANK deserves to find the wider audience it is built for as it heads to the Edinburgh Fringe. Box Office: https://www.etceteratheatrecamden.com/events/etcetera-theatre/operation-blank/10 

“A personal but largely two-dimensional take on race and gayness.” ★ ½ Written and performed by Raphael Phillips, Monkeyface is a solo show that takes us into the inner world of a university bedroom and the adulthood awakening of a nameless protagonist: a young man who’s coming to terms with his seemingly incompatible Black and gay identities. From here, he takes us on a journey through basic flatmates and euphoric nightclubs, all while trying to find where he belongs. It will be impossible for me to speak on much of this topic with any authority, and I acknowledge that many of the observations Phillips makes about his daily life as a Black guy I may well be blind to. But either way, I certainly don’t deny anyone’s experiences: everything he says and feels is true. However, as a general audience member, I'm not convinced by the story. That's chiefly because the 70-minute piece is marked by missed opportunities and non-existent nuance, ultimately giving us a classically London-centric, vaguely middle-class story of queerness, which doesn’t really get to where it wants. Because of that, it begins to feel hard to follow that such a wildly diverse community as London is alienating our protagonist so much, though I don’t doubt that it does, or that there would be such social ostracization of such a regular guy. Were it set in a rural backwater or deprived provincial town, away from the liberal airs and graces of university, it would be far more poignant – and, perhaps, the richer for it. The context here is kind of working against its point. Likewise, it's often hard to understand a conventionally attractive, confident young protagonist who spends a lot of time agonising over the fact that nobody will kiss him on a dance floor. If it sounds like I'm being dismissive, it's only because the character isn't fully articulating what's going on with cliquey gay culture; or perhaps is mistaking internal mental struggles with external social exclusion. Both are true, but they need unpacking. Again, there’s something interesting buried in here but it’s not yet showing its form. Maybe the more intriguing story is to be told with an unconventional-looking lead, someone struggling with real appearance issues: weight, body hair, stature, gender, deformity, disability – and skin colour; then it could fully integrate the point about homonormative ideals. And then the horrible invisibility on that dance floor makes sense. “Every time I leave a gay club, I find new ways to hate myself”, he says insightfully – and it's true. But that's not just an issue of race; it's an issue of gayness. Racism does undoubtedly exist in the gay community, but that's not wholly what he's describing. The feelings of isolation and judgement and inadequacy, of not fitting in, of vanity and shallowness, of self-consciousness: these are universal. So the piece becomes extremely muddled with these two trains of thought: the almost ubiquitous gay-scene psyche and the common and casual racism in gayness. It’s confusing them. Again, both are true, but they need to be steadied. On a practical note then, the audience is placed far too close to the stage, which makes it feel unintentionally intimate. Similarly confessional productions have fared better in the round, and I think the same could be true here, adding to a sense of genuine intimacy and claustrophobia. As it is, it's just a little awkward. Much of that is a product of the space itself, but I think it could have been better adapted for it. The show could also benefit from some more resolute direction. The action is a little tonally flat throughout and there's no real character development. There’s promise when it starts to explore the divergences and dichotomies of the kind of music, venues, and dance moves of white twinks and Black boys, but it never really takes off. We skirt past multiple missed opportunities and splutter along with uncertain sermons on struggle instead. The nice idea of the protagonist finally leaving their bedroom at the end is kind of undermined by the fact that they've just got back... and weren’t agoraphobic to begin with. It feels like it needs more design. There actually is the beginnings of a very interesting story here – something much more nuanced about the hinterland duality of mixed races – but it's not really the one he's telling. While the awareness mission is admirable, the problem with these confidential pieces is that they feel so deeply personal to critique – and who am I to judge? This is all subjective. So I highly commend Phillips' intention, and I am rooting for his ambition. The genuine intersectionality of Black and gay identities (and actually race in general) is still often overlooked and unspoken, as though people don't quite know how to tackle it. These are stories that must be told. As it is though, we're looking at a personal but largely two-dimensional take on race and gayness that's maybe a few drafts away from elevation. In its current form, it does a disservice to both. Phillips may yet be one to watch, but his masterwork is yet to emerge. MONKEYFACE by Raphael Phillips, Riverside Studios 6 July – 21 July 2026 Directed by Mojola Akinyemi Produced by BLACKRIOT Productions Box Office: https://riversidestudios.co.uk/whats-on/bO-monkeyface/

‘Visually stunning’ ★★★★ Directed by and starring award-winning Argentine theatre-maker Nicolás Perez Costa, the publicity promised a ‘bold dystopian reimagining’ of Shakespeare’s Richard III. The show has already rounded up an impressive number of Award nominations at Madrid’s Teatro Infanta Isabel, including best set design. It’s hard to argue with that, as the simple set consisting of six oil drums and two metal step ladders were used to multiple effect. Expertly manoeuvred by the cast they worked brilliantly as scene changers, and live percussion (drums and ladder) giving a gritty metallic ambiance to augment a sense of depravity. The central role, arguably most famously played by Lawrence Olivier, Ian McKellen, Martin Freeman and Ralph Fiennes, had a recalibration in 2022 when the Royal Shakespeare Company introduced Arthur Hughes as the first disabled actor to play the role. The reality of living with a physical disability put a different spin on the play. Nicolás Perez Costa chose to ignore a sensitive interpretation in favour of the full force of cold ambition. A disabled man has never been quite so agile, as Perez Costa scoots around the stage using his crutches like a pair of ski sticks. His energy and physicality are awesome, with a knock-out highlight. In an exuberant moment his sticks are thrown one at a time into the air and niftily caught by another. Yet, something is lost here. Perez Costa is quite hard to follow because of his strong accent, and he doesn’t elicit any sense of pathos, he’s all about looking good (and that box is definitely ticked). For those of us who like to ‘feel’ something, the ensemble made up for this disappointment. The standout (for me) was Tricia Hitchcock as Buckingham who was truly commanding and brought a sensitivity to the role, and much needed clarity. Working in the round, the players were superbly co-ordinated. There was not a moment that any audience member could possibly feel overlooked, with the large cast expertly directed by Perez Costa to give frame by frame pictures. This interpretation of the bard’s play is visually stunning with outstanding costume design. The ragged clothes and painted faces nod to both Elizabethan and dystopian film couture; with long trailing bustles, extravagant fabrics and tight-fitting leather breeches. The individual designs really help with the characterisations; each has a distinct personality. As a personal note, I was unfortunate enough to be sitting opposite a ground level light, which shone straight into my eyes except when the drums or cast covered it. Very uncomfortable viewing for periods of the show. The production is perhaps fairly described as a showy piece of theatre, which needs a scene-by-scene programme to tell the story as some of this is unclear. It helps to be au fait with Shakespeare’s history play, to be fully informed, so that it is possible to just sit back and enjoy the spectacle. Shakespeare’s RICHARD III Directed by and starring award-winning Argentine theatre-maker Nicolás Perez Costa The Cockpit 8 – 11 July 2026 BOX OFFICE Cast and Creatives Nicolás Perez Costa – Richard III & Director Marta Carvalho – Queen Elizabeth Tricia Hitchcock – Buckingham Juliet Prew – Queen Margaret Hugo Coello – Lord Hastings Mathew Miles – King Edward & Lord Stanley Julia Rose Lisa – Lady Anne & Lord Grey Tom Longmire – Duke of Clarence Oliver Broad – Lord Rivers Nabhan Uddin – Tyrell Germán Martins – Catesby