"A forgettable play, but a performer worth watching" ★★★ THE PROJECT, a one-woman play written and performed by Shannon Kurlander, finds its new home at The Hope Theatre in Islington - a compact and intimate space that suits confessional, character-led storytelling. Unfortunately, while the venue supports the piece’s ambitions, the play itself struggles to rise above a sea of well-worn tropes and underwhelming narrative beats. Katie, Kurlander’s protagonist, is staying at a wellness retreat after yet another disastrous relationship. Her type? Emotionally unavailable men who "need work." She admits she likes a project - a flaw she's finally trying to confront. The premise hints at emotional excavation and personal revelation, but the script quickly runs out of depth. Katie insists she wants to understand her patterns, but with no real trauma or internal conflict to mine, the play loops on itself. What begins as an engaging and self-aware narrative soon becomes repetitive. Still, Kurlander is an undeniable talent. Her performance is committed and sharply timed, elevating what is otherwise a middling script. There’s a quiet confidence in her delivery, and she carries the show with admirable stamina and precision. Under Lydia McKinley’s subtle and assured direction, the staging keeps the focus firmly on Kurlander’s expressive presence. Technically, the production shines - the lighting and soundtrack are particularly strong, slickly executed and perfectly attuned to the show’s tone. Overall, THE PROJECT feels like a showcase of potential more than a fully realised theatrical experience. Though the writing lacks originality and bite, Kurlander’s performance hints at greater things to come. A forgettable play, but a performer worth watching. Written & Performed by Shannon Kurlander Directed by Lydia McKinley Runs until 3 May at 7.45pm BOX OFFICE https://thehopetheatre.com/theproject Photography & Lighting - Brett Kasza

‘delivered with style, panache, and respect for the language’ ★★★★ I love watching Gilbert and Sullivan in small spaces. It used to be a treat, when the Kings Head in Islington was in the pub’s tiny back room, to watch the Charles Court Opera Company performing G&S there. The operas benefit from intimacy. And taking away the huge orchestra, the vast and complex set, the grandiloquent costumes, helps the audience to concentrate on Gilbert’s clever and witty words. It also makes the words easier to hear. The singer is closer to the audience, and with the best will, in the world, two musicians – which is what they had at the Tabard – cannot make as much noise as a full orchestra. And all the better for that, say I. So I went to the Tabard expecting to have a good time, and I was not disappointed. Director Keith Strachan’s simple staging provided the right atmosphere for the action without dominating it. His decision to set it in modern Britain worked well, and was well sustained. So the pompous Pooh Bah (Martin George) had a pin stripe suit, bowler hat and rolled umbrella, contrasting with the wide boy Ko Ko (Fed Zannni) in wide striped suit and a yellow shirt. The little maids from school, for the first scene only, had school uniforms, knee length white socks, and hockey sticks. In productions of The Mikado, one or two characters usually stand out, and seem to be the stars of the show – sometimes Ko Ko, sometimes Pooh Bah, sometimes the Mikado himself (John Griffiths) or Katisha (Sophie Juge.) At the Tabard, all these performers acquitted themselves excellently (except for an occasional tendency to shout a line that required quiet delivery) but the stars of the show, unusually, were the young lovers. Tilly Goodwin was a truly lovely Yum Yum, low-key, fun and flirtatious. Nicholas Curry was a charming, intelligent, loveable Nanki Poo. Together, the two were magical. All the great songs were delivered with style, panache, and respect for the language. Highlights include A Wand‘ring Minstrel, which Curry sings gently and wistfully; Three Little Maids from School, done with just the right level of naughtiness; I Am So Proud, in which Martin George convinces us that he really is as pompous, greedy and self-important as the words suggest; a very fine rendering of the Mikado’s mission statement – A More Humane Mikado Never Did In Japan Exist – from John Griffiths; and Fed Zanni quietly and hilariously wooing Katisha with Willow, Titwillow. There are two places in The Mikado where directors traditionally substitute topical lines for the lines Gilbert wrote. In the first, I’ve Got a Little List, they have inserted some sharp digs at Elon Musk and climate change deniers, but regrettably the director seems to have thought it necessary to show political balance and include a weak jibe at Keir Starmer for raising taxes. The second place is the Mikado’s song, and here, unusually, Gilbert’s words are more or less left alone, until suddenly we notice that “Parliamentary trains” has been changed to “late-running district line trains”, at which a section of the audience applauded. I understood why when I went home, standing on the station platform and waiting in vain for some indication of when the next train was due, then sitting on the train during its lengthy stops between stations and listening to the increasingly lame excuses for them. For a few minutes I felt almost grateful that I live on the Northern line. But it gave me time to sit back and savour the delightful evening in the theatre that I had just had. Photography: Matt Hunter Box Office

‘Expertly-crafted’ ★★★ ½ A hospital curtain and 3 plastic chairs, matching the blue scrubs on each of our 3 actors – this is all Tending needs to exposit on the lives and struggles of modern NHS nurses. It does so expertly and effectively but, as the plainness of the staging indicates, it lacks that special something. No one could fault the show with a lack of realism, as lead actor and writer El Blackwood demonstrates exceptional dedication both on-stage and beyond as she brings to life interviews conducted with many current and former nurses. Combined with impressive and lively direction from John Livesey, every emotional push called for by the script is built up and executed flawlessly from sorrow to laughter, with Blackwood’s supporting actors (Anjelica Serra and Ben Lynn) having their roles down to a fine art. With these pieces in place we are guided along through the day to day lives of nurses from several departments, from ICUs to pediatric wards, who all share the same core experiences. All look after their patients, all of them care, all do their best while feeling the pinch of cuts and all have their lows. Some of them conclusively. It all feels authentic and visceral, and it’s here that the show is undoubtedly at its strongest. But there are drawbacks. The simple staging is effective yet falters somewhat in just how static things stay for the full-length, despite good initiatives of dance and movement in the first half. Further, for all the virtues of the show’s verbatim basis, it limits affairs to a mere reflection of the tried and true internal issues of the NHS; there isn’t enough staff, there isn’t enough money and people are dying needlessly. As documentary this can’t be faulted, but as theatre it’s missing an additional edge; a narrative that arrives somewhere distinct from where it started or that produces inspiring spectacle. It’s not a show that will leave you different on leaving compared to when you came in. At its worst it offers no genuine insight into an age-old and complex issue, preaching to the choir with expert craftsmanship but without any higher ambition or theatrical risk-taking. And without these, it’s just shy of greatness. Tending runs at Riverside Studios from 15 April – 4 May Written by El Blackwood Directed by John Livesey Box office: https://riversidestudios.co.uk/see-and-do/tending-156272/ Produced by Anther Theatre Reviewed by Harry Conway

‘Moving, evocative, funny and plausible’ ★★★★ Like most critics I approach anything enthusiastically labelled “new musical” with sceptical caution. This show, however, proved a pleasant surprise not least because it has a very powerful but plausible story at its heart. Add into the mix the talents of five richly accomplished, triple threat performers and some decent music and you have something quite impressive. Adam (Dylan Aiello) and Darryl (Dominic Sullivan) are a gay couple living in Brighton. They are professionally successful as a journalist and teacher respectively and deeply committed to each other. They are also very fit and the action opens in a rigorous gym. Then disaster strikes in the form of Adam’s diagnosis with Motor Neurone Disease. Chris Burgess’s plot is inspired by the real life story of Peter Scott Morgan, a gay man whose fiercely pro-active resistance to MND featured in 2020 Channel Four documentary. Well, I have personal experience of being the spouse/carer to someone with a terminal diagnosis although our circumstances were, obviously, different. But my own background means that my heart goes out to Darryl who tries so very hard to be positive, practical and supportive while also grappling with devastating grief. Dominic Sullivan more than nails the all-too-recognisable angst, loneliness and sometimes sheer frustrated anger because, like most sick people, Adam is pretty difficult. It’s a fine performance. Dylan Aiello makes Adam a totally believable character too. He’s funny except when terror strikes and he sees his life being snatched from him as he has to use first crutches, then a walking frame and finally a wheelchair. But the journalist in him, supported by friend and PR expert Ben (James Lowrie – good multi-roler) agrees to an intrusive, comically insensitive TV documentary. It too is an immaculately observed performance as he ricochets from horror, fear, fury, bitterness and despair. Two women Jude St James and Mali Wen Davies play their friends Ruth and Shaz along with a whole raft of minor characters and they’re both excellent. Davies, in particular, is a larger than life, very funny character actor with a terrific toolkit of accents and an unusually good singing voice for musical theatre. Chris Burgess’s music (orchestration and musical direction by Aaron Clingham) is woven into the plot integrally so that characters drop almost imperceptibly in and out of song which becomes part of the dialogue as does Philip Joel’s lively choreography. The diction is crystal clear too which helps a lot with the story telling. It all feels perfectly natural and convincing. It’s even relatively tuneful and I left the theatre humming one of the final melodies which is pretty unusual these days on a first hearing. Despite Adam’s controversial decision to have several vital organs (bladder, stomach and more) pre-emptively removed with a view to overcoming the disease with modern technology there’s only one way this piece can end, despite the dreams. And that’s nicely done too. This is evocative musical theatre with legs and, I hope, a future. Catch it if you can. SUPERSONIC MAN Writer and director: Chris Burgess LAMCO productions Southwark Playhouse, Borough 9 April – 3 May BOX OFFICE https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/supersonic-man/ The Company Dylan Aiello Adam James Lowrie ben Jude St James Ruth Dominic Sullivan Darryl Mali Wen Davies Shaz Chris Burgess Writer/Director Aaron Clingham Musical Director Steven Edis Musical Arranger Philip Joel Choreographer David Shields Designer Richard Lambert Lighting Designer Angie Lawrence Production Assistant Kevin Wilson PR Steve Caplin Graphic Designer

‘British humour at its most outrageous’ ★★★★★ Celebrating its 13th year in London, Faulty Towers immersive dining experience isn’t just for fans of the BBC series (Fawlty Towers) which sparked this spin off. It’s a hit with people who have never seen the original TV comedy, and tourists who are keen to see a bit of British humour at its most outrageous. Part of the success of this interactive show, is that it’s a hugely enjoyable two hours of entertainment like no other. With just three actors and a team of real waiters serving three courses, the whole event is a feat of organisation. The action starts in the bar and has everyone laughing, even before they are shown to the tables in the restaurant. The actors are master of physical theatre and have the mannerisms of the originals down to perfection. They might not be the spitting image of the original cast (John Cleese, Prunella Scales and Andrew Sachs) but they have the appearance, Basil is tall and thin, Manuel is tiny but wiry and Sybil is matronly in her boxy suit with a permed head of hair (an obvious wig which just shouts judge). There’s a wonderful pecking order which allows much of the comedy. Hotelier Basil has pretentions way above his actual status, battling away to bring standards ever upwards. His ambitions are constantly undermined by Spanish waiter Manuel whose rudimentary English results in plenty of misunderstandings. Added to this, his level-headed wife Sybil, keeps catching him out whenever he is being devious, which puts Basil on high alert for the entire show. It all makes Basil a flawed but also a lovable human being (although possibly not one that we would care to meet in real life as his hyperactivity is easily provoked). There’s also a sense in which the characters are recognisable. Perhaps we see elements of ourselves in them, and certainly in those around us, giving us plenty of belly laughs. With so many highlights in the show, it’s only possible to give a taste of what to expect. The kind of jokes that issue includes the scene when Manuel stands on one of the dining tables and attempts to entertain the diners, until Basil enters. An astonished Basil shouts at him to explain himself. “You say wait on table” says Manuel quite reasonably. So, you may imagine what happens when Basil instructs him to collect the glasses, or to give her the butter. “Qué?” says Manuel. “Butt-her” enunciates Basil, and the ever game Manuel makes horns with his hands and prepares to … Basil stops him just in time. Some of the tropes are from the original television series and include such memorable storylines as Basil putting money on a horse. He gives the money to Manuel, and of course, it’s a secret from Sybil, but she finds out by the end of the evening, much to Basil’s humiliation and fury. Another secret of the show’s success is that audiences are more than willing to go along with everything. It helps that the actors are extremely respectful, clearly practised, with no rushed movements. Don’t put your elbows on the table, because Basil comes along and with great care, takes hold of your elbow and lifts them off the table. He admonishes you at the same time and no one could take offence at that. But beware of the teeth in your soup. The script is clever and amusing but the suspicion is that there is an element of improvisation. The show was originally devised by Alison Pollard-Mansergh, Andrew Foreman and others. It has been touring the UK and internationally since 2008, having appeared in 43 countries to date. It’s a remarkable innings, and long may it continue to entertain audiences with its highly original concept, which might be a nod to the ancient tradition of Commedia dell'arte. The food also deserves a mention, with a simple menu of ‘favourites’ and a vegetarian alternative, the choice, although limited, tasted delicious. Photo credit: Rosi E Powell FAULTY TOWERS The Dining Experience President Hotel 56-60 Guilford Street London, WC1N 1DB BOX OFFICE Please note: Faulty Towers The Dining Experience is a loving tribute to Fawlty Towers. Faulty Towers The Dining Experience uses scripts and a dining experience format devised by Imagination Workshop Pty Limited and is not endorsed in any way by John Cleese or Connie Booth.

"Cute, existential Gen-Z romance" ★★★ Maya and James have a potentially romantic start to their relationship. The strangers on a station platform might seem familiar; Brief Encounter by Noel Coward is the 1945 classic, but we are in a different millennium and this love story is distinctly Gen Z in flavour. Exploring the fragility of connection in a city compounded by a quarter-life crisis, what makes it unusual is that our couple meet in the physical world on the Northern Line, not via wrist-aching swipes on a dating app. Middle class, white, heterosexual, educated professionals, Maya engagingly performed by Anna Hewitt and James wittily inhabited by George Prentice are both making their way in the world. She’s smart, confident, enjoys reading, and lives with her flatmate. He’s awkward and keen to impress. They find themselves at the same station every morning and eventually, he finds the courage to make a comment about her book. He doesn’t read and has never heard of James Baldwin. But with the opportunism one would expect from someone in ‘property’, he sees an In, reads Giovanni’s Room and patiently waits for his moment. This comes not in the form of a critique of Virginia Wolfe’s Orlando but the shock death of Maya’s mother. As the forlorn daughter attempts to process her grief, loss, and the terrible funeral “in a grotty Swindon pub” James transforms from the cute, mawkish commuter into a dependable shoulder, the charge on a white horse. So deep is Maya’s need to find stability in an upended world, they quickly move in together and this concise 60-minute play covers the life span of their relationship, from the honey glow of early courtship and Hendon co-habitation to the first cold hit of reality. Direction by Robert Monaghan is fluid and effortlessly melds the forward leaps in time with seamless transitions. The script by Nina Fuentes feels authentic but the wide span of emotional highs and lows comes at the expense of a deeper understanding of the characters whose motives and needs remain obscured. There are numerous segues and suggestions that are not followed up and feel like loose ends. What’s with the sister? Why was James not happy before? Why is Maya so motivated by perfection? The best romances work because the audience believes two individuals are destined to be two halves of the same whole. This relationship, built on chance, opportunity, and a sham appreciation of literature, means the stakes are lower and there is less investment for the audience who become wary onlookers, not sure if this relationship should or can work. A Million Miles Under Hampstead Heath shines a light on the lonely, confusing place, twenty-something can be. Between finishing education and settling down, comes soul searching and the painful emotional learning that comes with a first serious relationship.This cute and existential rom com will undoubtedly resonate with the Gen Z demographic. Box Office

‘The quality shows in a riotous, joyous production’ ★★★★★ Marco Boroni, just a poor boy from a poor family, has a talent, a wonderful thing, as everyone listens when he starts to sing. For Marco is a castrato in 18th century Venice and one of the few of his kind for whom fame and fortune (and a wealthy patron, and more important smitten patroness) beckon the purity of his preserved childish treble voice. Yet Marco himself (Jack Chambers) has a musical ear and a love-struck eye to tell him the female roles he’s trained for and craves at the city’s theatre might just be better sung, who’d a thunk it, by an actual woman, the one that he wants being Gioia (Jewelle Hutchinson), a slave girl from the wrong side of the Grand Canal. And so the pair of star-crossed lovers grab their lives, defy convention and the sneers of their superiors to get out of their gutters and reach for the heavens. Stiletto, a new musical, comes with a high pedigree. Multiple Oscar, Golden Globe and Grammy nominee Matthew Wilder wrote the music and lyrics, while the Book writer Tim Luscombe is an Olivier nominee. The quality shows in a riotous, joyous production with nary a lull for breath in its two hours of grand passions and low skullduggery. Ceci Calf’s set design, dark pillars and simple, transformable furniture is gorgeously supplemented by Anna Kelsey’s pitch-perfect costumes and lighting designer Ben Ormerod’s darks and shades. The design also hides a 10-piece orchestra back there , and allows the show to prove the point that nothing can’t be improved by a bit more cello, a brass section and a mandolin. There’s real attention to detail in the staging, too – for example, the invisible removal of a dead body and a near-perfect theatrical sleight-of-hand with some cleverly costumed actor-switching. The quality of sound impresses too, with a series of songs that have that character of instant familiarity that suggests you’ve heard this before while still being entirely original. We’re very much in 20th/21st century musical theatre style rather than 18th century Venice for these. Marco and Gioia get their high points – Jewelle Hutchinson soaring on God-Given Gif t when setting out her stall early, for example. And the ensemble pieces sound like the hits – Every Day of Your Life featuring the entire cast at opening and close. But there are standout songs in the solos for non-lead characters, with Greg Barnett (as Marco’s Svengali-like tutor, cast aside by the pupil who’s outgrown him) and Sam Barrett (as a worm who turns against his corrupt lord and master) the absolute high points in How Do I Get Through and, especially, Go Along. The whole show, from the opening bars, is a feast for eye and ear, and, while there may be little surprise in the basic Romeo-and-Juliet-triumph-over-adversity of the plot, the songs are the thing here, and a very very good thing they are, too. Photography: Johan Persson STILETTO at Charing Cross Theatre 24 March – 15 June 2025 Music and Lyrics: Matthew Wilder Book: Tim Luscombe Director: David Gilmore Charing Cross Theatre 24 March to 15 June 2025 Box Office: https://www.charingcrosstheatre.co.uk/ Reviewer David Weir’s plays include Confessional (Oran Mor, Glasgow), Better Together (Jack Studio, London). Those and others performed across Scotland, Wales and England, and in Australia, Canada, South Korea, Switzerland and Belgium. Awards include Write Now Festival prize, Constance Cox award, SCDA best depiction of Scottish life, and twice Bruntwood longlisted.

‘it’s fun and it’s light as a feather’★★★★ The New York skyline, so familiar, and a shy, awkward young man distributing leaflets to the passers-by who are rushing by too busy to lift their eyes or notice him or the messages he’s promoting. The opening of a joyful, hopeful musical about ordinary days in which ordinary lives will find their own extraordinary moments of connection and joy in other people. The musical itself is 15 years old and opens with an absolute banger as our shy young man, new to town, knowing no-one but endlessly optimistic that life will smile on him, sets the scene with a rapid-fire and soaring song accompanied by unexpectedly balletic pirouettes. It’s the high point of the show (not always good to begin with your stellar number but absolutely fine here in settling an audience who know they’re in for a good time). Warren (Aidan Cutler) is sweet, socially awkward, not an obvious catch. Deb (Dora Gee) is a student, up from the sticks, a dork in New York, failing to persuade her professors that she knows anything about Virginia Woolf for the simple reason that she doesn’t like her or her work. And Claire (Melissa Camba) and Jason (James Edge) fill out the four-strong cast, a couple not entirely sure they should be together – he says Cabernet, she says Austrian Riesling, etc etc – but giving it a try out. There’s nowhere lonelier than a huge city where everyone else seems to be succeeding and enjoying life and you don’t know any of them or how to get in. It’s a musical without a book – songs only to carry the perhaps too-separate stories of the singletons who meet and make a connection and the couple who’ve met and might be ready to split apart. And that works fine, even if the solo numbers and duets work better than slightly muddy ensemble pieces when the four of them occupy the same stage space if not quite the same life space. Aidan Cutler in particular is a treat, a brilliant voice, comic timing and an agility that’s as beautiful as its initially unexpected. He brings a real warmth to his awkward character, a man who could be lovely but presents as a bit of an oddball. The scenes in which he and Dora Gee (sharp, cynical, funny performance) connect in an art gallery then a coffee shop are witty and inventive and the most affecting in the show, as well as having some excellent audience non-participation comedy thrown in. So it’s fun and it’s light as a feather, both in terms of being simply enjoyable in its own right and in having nothing particularly profound or original to say about the human condition or how we get from loneliness to togetherness. It sags a little towards the end, the songs feeling a little musically repetitive even as they continue to carry the story very effectively, but overall a thoroughly pleasing experience and one that should leave all but the stony-hearted happier going out of the auditorium than they were going in. ORDINARY DAYS by Adam Gwon at Upstairs at the Gatehouse 22 – 27 April 2025 Directed by Karl Steele Presented by Old Joint Stock Theatre Box Office: https://upstairsatthegatehouse.ticketsolve.com/ticketbooth/shows/1173659331 Reviewer David Weir’s plays include Confessional (Oran Mor, Glasgow) and Better Together (Jack Studio, Brockley, London)

‘riveting final scenes’ ★★★ ½ The opening scenes are reminiscent of Tennessee Williams’ ‘Cat On a Hot Tin Roof’ with Tina sunbathing on a hot day while her sister and husband shelter from the heat under a patio umbrella. The sisters are awaiting the arrival of their stepsister, and the obvious tension is mounting. All of them share an irritability with each other, further emphasised when the others appear: Tina’s boyfriend and the third sister. It is the summer after Dad has died and they are coming together in their old family summer house for a week of vacation. The year is 1985 and the play is set in Denmark, which is in deep financial crisis, another factor which drives the tension felt by the characters. As if this is not enough, there’s also the crying baby, an aural reminder of the resentment between the married couple, as Marianne has the full responsibility of motherhood, whilst her callow husband has womanising on his mind. Early in the play, things get a little confused, with the accents used by the actors, and the language used by writer Sarah Majland signalling different things. The accents sound Tennessee Williams (Mississippi) but the play is set in Denmark. The language has echoes of Ibsen (at least that is the right part of the world). Certainly, the writing is rather good and offers a period feel with some phrases having a pleasing rhythm whilst also sounding very natural: ‘It’s heartbreaking is what it is’. The play becomes absolutely riveting in the final powerful scenes (reminiscent of the denouement in the afore-mentioned Cat On a Hot Tin Roof). With more than one reveal, the energy is ramped up to explosive levels with all actors giving it all they’ve got. The five actors (apart from the confusing accents) are exemplary. However, there’s another quibble to flag here, as the drama fails to show us anything we haven’t seen before, the traumas have been explored in theatre many times over and have lost their power to shock. Nothing new is being explored. It’s a pity because this is a very talented company who deserve a bigger audience, (and a decent stage set to show off their work). Direction from writer Sarah Majland is impressive, somehow managing to make all the scene changes a part of the action which constantly drives the story forward. There’s never a dull moment, with many seamless costume changes from cast. Their attire is one of the attractions of the show and offers excellent period detail thanks to designer Halli Pattison who clearly has a flair for this. With previous productions, Tell Me you’ll Think About It, The house We Inherit, A Woman Called Girl and A Woman On Fire, winning the company much acclaim, including award nominations, this is a company with a future. The Summer After Dad Died at The Hen and Chickens Theatre 22 – 26 April 2025 Box Office Cast and Creatives Written & Directed by Sarah Majland Cast: Marianne: Halli Pattison Peter: Boyan Petrov Tina: Milja Marttila Thomas: Eddie Pop Anna: Cristina Parracho Costume design: Halli Pattison Produced by Quid Pro Quo Theatre

'two acts come together to give a fuller image of motherhood' ★★★★ 1/2 Mum. Mom. Mummy. Mother! Interspersed in the first act are the playful voices of children who convert a woman into a mother, a role not to be taken lightly, and one that forever transforms said woman. Those recordings give insight into not just childhood and play, but what it means to be a mother. In Mothers Have Nine Lives, the characters (performed with versatility by Becky Lumb, Mira Morrison, Ellie Ward) share their different yet relatable stories as riveting monologues. Each comes from different experiences of motherhood: of personal expectations to financial resources to ways of becoming a mother. Louise clears away toys while she asks herself, through others’ telling questions, whether she wants to be a mother. Gina, a single mother of two under two, seeks freedom through trying to acquire a double buggy she can’t afford, while posh Margaret grasps onto work and passes on actual mothering (a great satire). Wendy lovingly becomes a mother through adoption and worries about her own mortality. Kim’s two little girls (comically) keep her busy between what one wants to eat and the other wants to wear. Katherine has high aspirations for her daughter, and vicariously for herself. Mia compares having a daughter and son and their ability to communicate, while Helen’s son and daughter are hard to get time to spend with during the holidays. The three actors impressively switch accents, attitudes, and attire to take us on this journey. What these diverse stories have in common is that being a mother is so tied up in another’s needs and wants that it can confuse the individual’s desires. Each piece could possibly become its own expanded play and yet, the brevity of each story imprints a certain lingering poignancy. -------- In the second act, Yellow Wallpaper, the ever impressive Becky Lumb is given the stage to take on the 1892 short story by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, beautifully and deftly adapted by Ellie Ward. The original short story is surprising in how well it shows the impact of the ‘baby blues’ but this 30-minute piece modernises and takes it further. Lumb convincingly takes us into the mind of a woman who has been kept inside a grand house for her 'own good', and presumably the baby’s. The white cot used lovingly, protectively in the previous act has become something of a cage on the stage, which she stands behind as she descends into a kind of madness; and smoothly switches to calmly tell the story of how she got to this point while sitting and advising a stuffed doll. She is captivating. The lighting and projections (Luke Adamson) of the eponymous wallpaper add immensely to the sense of eeriness, and give gravity to the situation of the woman’s mental decline. Baby blues (now postnatal depression) has now been given a new name and in recent years has more awareness (perhaps not enough). Yet more stories of motherhood should reach the stage and this piece demonstrates how compelling it can be. - ------- In recent years, we have seen an increase in the conversation around motherhood on stage, though perhaps not enough. In this production, with its (baby) blues and (wallpaper)yellows, these two acts come together to give a fuller image of motherhood: the fervent love, the fear, disappointment, the hope, the messiness, the struggles, the loneliness, desperation, imperfection, and yes, even the joy. Yellow Things couples these two acts in a way that gives a full picture of the vicissitudes of motherhood without making the viewer afraid of being called mother. Or Mum or Mummy. Written by Joanna Borland / Charlotte Perkins Gilman, adapted by Ellie Ward Performed by Becky Lumb, Mira Morrison, Ellie Ward Directed by Ellie Ward Produced by Ellie Ward Lighting Designer: Luke Adamson

“Too much philosophising and not enough plot” ★ ½ Dick. introduces us to a group of Gen Z friends at a 26th birthday party. They're leaving their mid-twenties, real adulthood beckons, hidden loves and old friendships tangle in amongst them. The flagship scene of the first act comes when they've returned home from clubbing and begin one of those slightly slurring deep-and-meaningfuls that tend to happen in the melancholy early hours after a night out. They discuss sex and love, connection and fulfilment, what it all means as they find themselves settling firmly into their adulthood now that they're officially closer to 50 than 0. The five distinct characters each present something to which we can all relate, a viewpoint, outlook, sensibility. They open up about their most intimate experiences, their wants and desires. It's snappy, funny, and intelligent. For me, here is the heart and core of the play. This is the story, character-driven and thoughtful, their interactions and observations. But soon after this opening, it starts to become overly verbose and lacking in substance, relying thinly on the trope of young people lamenting the lost youth they still have. That in and of itself is not enough to sustain a two-hour runtime. Some stories are introduced though. At the very start an unspoken love story between River (Max Brennan) and Ruby (Frederick Russell) does crackle with chemistry, but is quickly forgotten in favour of some other tenuous take on boredom and hedonism and misery, which is strange as the characters don't appear to have any jobs or money worries or family, or anything really. This gives the play a random and meandering feel as they move through the course of what appears to be a year, with characters appearing here, there, and everywhere to chat a load of nonsense. So what starts as a promising and on-trend deep dive into sex and relationships à la Sally Rooney becomes, appropriately, a hot mess. But a smart one nonetheless. The main problem is that it is excruciatingly slow. Bravely long pauses become too long and too overused, giving whole exchanges a dull flatness and tonal stasis as they have the same revelations time and again. I stress that these kind of pauses and silences are brave and can work incredibly well. One particular example, when an entire scene between River (Brennan) and Ruby (Russell) is performed without a single word, so much said with so little, is truly commendable, touchingly acted too. But too much of this with no modulation in mood is a recipe for monotony. Scenes end up repetitive and circular, with the same characters saying the same thing over and over again in different ways, and different characters saying those same things again, over and over again, in the same way, differently. Though I'm not entirely sure what it is they're saying. Writer/Director Adam Kinneen is clearly talented, but it is in need of serious cutting – because the effect of all this is that there is no variety in tone or pace at all. It’s like it’s been written with being clever in mind, not an audience’s time in mind, which is ironic given the admittedly nice monologue at the start describing the truly erotic part in the long lead-up to sex as “f***ing someone’s time”. So what we have then is the same point – whatever that is – being hammered home from start to finish, almost undermining an audience’s intelligence. Now, this might just be because there simply isn't enough weight and volume to stretch over its two-hour runtime. The first twenty minutes is where this play is at. It's strong and sizzling. There is real potential here though, as what we have is an interesting, if underdeveloped, set of modern characters, who, actually, you could see having these kind of deep, slightly drunken exchanges as they did at the start in a series of 20-minute episodes on screen instead. I'd be curious to see what these people make of a range of subjects. And as an overall show, it's really well produced. The company’s marketing materials are cool; the set, light, and sound design is all great; and the performances are strong and professional. The content though could do with some reshaping. As it is, there's too much philosophising and not enough plot, too much time given to trying to be profound; ultimately missing what could be some interesting socio-political points about why these young people feel such apathy in their lives. Dick. promises to not waste a second saying what it means, though it appears to take a long time to get there. It tells us it's a play about needing more from everything, but I think it'll be on to a winner if it gives us a little less Dick. and a little more drama. Photography: Abigail Dawn. DICK. Written & Directed by Adam Kinneen Presented by Next to Nothing Productions, in co-production with Drayton Arms Theatre Drayton Arms Theatre, 15 – 26 April 2025 Box Office: https://www.thedraytonarmstheatre.co.uk/dick-2 Reviewed by Alix Owen

‘An ambitious reimagining that falls short’ ★★1/2 In the bustle of St Pancras station, Heisenberg opens with an unexpected jolt—Georgie, a whirlwind of fast-talking unpredictability, kisses the neck of Alex, a quiet 70-year-old woman seated alone. Stevie Nicks’ “Edge of Seventeen” blasts over the speakers, setting a bold, edgy tone. This radical reinterpretation of Simon Stephens’ 2015 play, directed by Katharine Farmer, reframes the original story with a queer dynamic at its center. Jenny Galloway plays Alex with understated restraint, while Faline England dives headlong into Georgie’s manic energy. The two strike a visually compelling contrast—their personalities clashing and circling like two mismatched orbits. But despite the intriguing premise, the production struggles to maintain emotional momentum. Much of the play revolves around Georgie’s relentless monologues, delivered at breakneck speed, peppered with contradictions and emotional feints. “You must find me exhausting but captivating,” she says at one point, seemingly aware of her chaos. And that line sums up the experience of watching the play: something is captivating in Georgie’s unpredictability, but it quickly becomes exhausting without enough variation or depth to sustain it. Alex, meanwhile, feels underwritten and underutilized. Galloway’s performance suggests emotional complexity simmering beneath the surface—grief, longing, perhaps a life lived in restraint—but the script only hints at it. Her backstory is mentioned briefly and then brushed aside. As audience members, we find ourselves yearning to know more about Alex, to hear her side of the story, but the structure doesn’t allow it. Visually, the production opens with flair—an effective train-like light rush that immerses us in the space—but that initial atmosphere fades quickly. The staging remains minimalist throughout: two practical chairs are shuffled about the stage with increasing futility. That said, the production does find itself in brief, beautiful moments, most notably in a quiet, post-intimacy scene. After all the words, the play finally pauses. Georgie and Alex lie side by side in silence, their bodies close, their eyes searching. Here, the dialogue stops and something genuine emerges: vulnerability, connection, the tentative quiet that follows exposure. In these silences, the play finds its truth—an intimacy more powerful than any of the preceding monologues. Heisenberg touches on meaningful themes—loneliness, identity, grief, and the desperate human need to connect—but it often feels more like a thought experiment than a fully formed emotional journey. The writing doesn’t reach the same depth or complexity as Stephens' more impactful works like Pornography or Maria, and the emotional beats feel fleeting rather than fully realized. Still, the queer reimagining is a welcome and overdue perspective, and there’s sincerity in the work done by the creative team. But overall, the production struggles to justify its emotional investment. It promises depth but only brushes its surface. Despite some lovely, fleeting moments of truth, Heisenberg ultimately feels like a missed connection. Photography: Charlie Flint ________________________________________ Wednesday 9th of April to Saturday 10th of May 2025 at Arcola Theatre. Tickets here Cast and Creative Team Director: Katherine Farmer Cast: Jenny Galloway and Faline England Writer: Simon Stephens Lighting Designer: Rajiv Pattani

‘Doctor Who meets Monty Python’ ★★★ It is Space Year Thirty-Four Sigma Ninety-Nine. Peace talks between two great empires – Earth and Vangali – are unfolding aboard a spaceship. The fate of the universe hangs in the balance. Representing the two factions: three Earthlings, one Vengali, and the Ambassador of Xathoolian V – who looks uncannily like a green pompom. Elsewhere, a group of people who don’t know their own names find themselves stuck they don’t know where, looking for they don’t know what. This set-up gives you the best elements of Untitled Space Play. It is an ambitious, sweeping sci-fi and joyful, absurdist comedy; think Doctor Who meets Monty Python. Harry Cowper’s script shines brightest in the first half, as we hop from one spaceship scene to another, each brimming with comedic potential. The cast make the most of this potential. Dan Rhodes is especially entertaining as Captain Artemis – a comic cross between David Brent and Buzz Lightyear. His scenes opposite Kimberley Ellis’s steely Vengali General sizzle with tension and humour. Comedy is what this play does best. When it ventures beyond this, its offering is weaker. The first half throws a lot of ideas and plot beats at the wall, not all of which are satisfyingly played out in the second half. Characterisation, too, sometimes takes a backseat to humour, leaving some roles feeling thin. The biggest issue, though, lies in the convergence of the two plotlines – the peace talks and the nameless wanderers. I found it impossible to make sense of the sci-fi logic underpinning their connection. My suspicion is that if I sat Harry Cowper down, he’d be able to explain the mechanics in detail – and they’d probably be quite clever – but it simply doesn’t translate on stage. A version of the play that finds a clearer way to communicate this narrative logic would significantly strengthen the second act. Despite these flaws, the play is just so much fun – especially the first half. In these challenging times, watching a green pompom babble in alien gibberish for two hours is exactly the kind of escapism we need. One would be hard pressed to walk out of the theatre without a spring in their step. Untitled Space Play by Harry Cowper / Two Guys in a Room / The Bread & Roses Theatre / 8 – 12 April 2025 https://app.lineupnow.com/event/untitled-space-play

‘heartwarming, humorous and challenging’ ★★★★★ Has anyone ever considered the possibility of being forced to leave behind the home you know and love, and migrate to another place, due to global warming? Well, this play homes in on that nightmare, giving full vent to what we might hope is only paranoia. Whilst there are many heartwarming and humorous moments in the show, it is also challenging and quite frightening. Set in England, It imagines a future world when global warming is forcing people to move further north, at the same time migrants are continuing to come to the UK by boat. The story focuses on one couple, and one woman who has fled her country, perilously taking the journey by boat with her young daughter. We meet the late middle-aged couple, Ricky and Joe, outside in their garden with its beautiful vine. Not only are they concerned with the rising temperatures but are disconcerted when a young woman, a migrant appears. Having fled from an untenable life-threatening situation, she is trying to make a home for herself and her daughter in the Uk and is seeking a friend. The relationship between the trio is cleverly built in a series of stories, imagining different scenarios. In some the couple are welcoming, in others indignant, or scared. The young woman is sometimes looking for a friend, at other times confused and often desperate, but she is always dignified. The show has been developed in collaboration with migrant organisations and people with lived experience of migration, and the aim is to ask, ‘what happens if you welcome the uninvited Guest?’ It doesn’t shy away from the fears that people harbour, nor does it fool us that people are perfect, or that suspicions are necessarily invalid. Ultimately it shows a common humanity. It’s an in depth look from the perspective of these three particular characters. The actors are exceptional and each one of them has a very meaty role. Although the play shows each situation as a story in itself, the characters retain the same personality throughout and the through line of the story also gives a wonderful coherence to the piece. Writer Stephanie Jacob takes the role of Ricky. Her script is very characterful, giving the actors a wonderful chance to show off their skills. Jacob is delightful in her role, showing considerable charm and a playful relationship with the husband. Graham Turner plays Joe, as another warm character, supportive to his wife and having a very believable breakdown (in one of the scenarios) when he realises that he doesn’t know what to do in the face of the overwhelming situation of huge numbers of migrants appearing in Britain. It’s a very relatable moment. Now, to Erica Tavares-Kouassi who plays Hannah. She doesn’t have the broad experience of the other actors (who have done everything from RSC, National to film and TV) but she is a superb choice for the role. Having seen her twice before in very different roles, she is a very fine actress, clearly able to adapt herself to the character, yet always riveting to watch and a powerful presence. Finally, to the staging (designed by Christianna Mason) which has neat ways of bolstering the story through symbolism. Branches from the vine become loose and break away as the heat rises. The garden is surrounded by a low wall, which works so well in exploring its many meanings, used here as a barrier, or as security and also to show the huge social impact of inviting people to come in. The piece is certainly not preachy, it just reaches out and gives new perspectives on the migrant situation. Turning it on its head and imagining being that person who finds themselves in the horrific situation of needing to leave behind the home they know and love. Photography: Héctor Manchego THE GUEST presented by Cockahoop Theatre Written by Stephanie Jacob Directed by Lucy Richardson Omnibus Theatre, 1 Clapham Common Northside, London SW4 0QW BOX OFFICE https://www.omnibus-clapham.org/the-guest/ Cast Erica Tavares-Kouassi Hannah Stephanie Jacob Ricky Graham Turner Joe Assistant Director Ayal San Producer Fabio Santos Production Manager/Lighting Designer Imogen Senter Set/Costume Designer Christianna Mason Sound Designer Gareth Swindail-Parry Stage Manager Gill Wood Engagement Producer Chi Communications Manager Héctor Manchego Photographer/film maker Henri T Technician/Lighting and Sound Operator Naomi Shanson

‘An attempt to make the lines between audience and actor blur - but instead, the line was more muddled than blurred.’ ★★ Upon entering the venue, I knew this wasn’t going to be a typical experience. It was a fun welcoming: being offered a mysterious shot of blue fizzy liquid, loud music playing, and a photographer roaming around taking pictures with the audience. Such a welcome plants an intriguing seed in your mind - curious and excited to see how the next 60 minutes will grow. Performers Alfie Lanham-Brown and George Abbott greeted the crowd with playful charm, setting the tone for an evening that blurred the lines between performance and provocation. They kicked things off by revisiting a scathing review of a past production, using a slide deck to dissect the feedback with tongues firmly in cheek. Despite other positive responses, they explained, this particular critique had sparked their new show. The premise: three live arguments over the course of an hour, the last of which would be entirely shaped by the audience. This concept had real promise, and the audience-driven format brought a sense of unpredictability. There were suggestions such as Lime bikes and climate change, yet it was ‘The Future of Theatre’ and ‘AI’ that were chosen as the topics of Debate 1 and Debate 2. At this point, the biggest strength was encouraging the audience to become accustomed to one another - in Debate 2 we were instructed to turn to fellow audience members to explain what AI was. This was fun: getting to bounce ideas off someone you just met. It was an enjoyable moment created by the structure the creatives had established. Yet overall, both debates felt a bit clunky: people shouting over each other, the leads struggling to think on the spot with rebuttals, and the limited time of each debate creating a rushed atmosphere. I was hoping, overtime - with it being explained there would be three debates in the performance - that the dynamics between the leads and the audience would find their footing. However, everything changed. This was a play of two parts. Suddenly, two audience members, sitting apart in the room, called out the same sentence at the same time. Now this is where things got exciting - audience members turning to each other, intrigued murmurings, and the reactions from the leads on stage. This clashing of sentences led to the revelation that these two “audience members” were actually actors, invited by the leads. This then sparked other “angry” and “annoyed” actors in the audience to reveal they were also planted. What we thought was reality was revealed as fiction. And with this revelation, the show had so much potential. So, it was such a shame that this potential wasn't reached. The overall downfall was the structure established by the writing. With the leads acting as though they were trying to continue the show, ignoring their “annoyed” audience members for incorrectly allotting lines, they asked for another suggestion. An attempt to continue the show. My plus one called out ‘Keir Starmer!’ - to which one of the actors in the audience responded, ‘Hey, you stole my line!’ This caused fellow audience members to think my plus one was “in” on the performance too, looking at him suspiciously and asking him questions about what was happening in the show - questions, of course, he couldn’t answer. This dynamic was a grave error: attempting to create a plot that relies on real audience members spontaneously taking part, but then discouraging and confusing them when they do so. Even during interactions between the leads and the audience-actors (when we were yet to know they were actors), I jotted down: ‘With the format of the show, it is only as strong as the audience’s responses.’ Now knowing these audience members were in fact actors, my thought shifted to: If you don’t create a strong enough structure that invites a space for the real audience to bounce off of, then the space remains empty - leading the structure to collapse in on itself. The show didn’t encourage people to turn to each other with a playful approach to this experimental theatre experience - it instead shifted people into confused and uncomfortable silences, not wanting to take part out of fear they’d be interrupting the surprise, pre-planned narrative of the show. The show unravelled and crumbled: the shouting in the stands amongst the audience-actors erupted into a chaotic dance break on stage, with the cast screaming at the audience, ‘Get up and dance!’ - to which I don’t think anyone did. When this dance broke into a fight, there was a “surprise” visit from the harsh reviewer. This bit did give me a good laugh, yet the irrelevant chaos around it robbed the moment of its full potential for humour and meaning. It was so baffling and unstructured that when the cast stood in silence, pointing at the exit - a very simple signal that the play had ended and we were to leave - the audience just sat still, unsure if it was a literal cue to leave or another confusing turn in the constantly twisting narrative. Just like the blue drink I was offered at the beginning of the show, much of the performance felt irreverent and unnecessary - even the title left me perplexed, as no actual arguments occurred. Experimental theatre should always be encouraged and advocated for - and I truly applaud the creatives for thinking of this idea. The idea of discussing what the future of theatre can be, exploring the concept of blurring the lines between audience and actor, is incredibly exciting and offers a unique experience for audiences in today’s theatrical climate. The metanarrative of choosing to have a debate about ‘The Future of Theatre’ and then revealing to the audience that this is an attempt at such a future is a bold and creative move that I greatly appreciate. This concept is undeniably fresh - yet, unfortunately, the execution was weak.  CAST Alfie Lanham-Brown George Abbott Lilybella Bayliss Giles Beattie Sahera Chohan Daniel Drema Jared Denner Elliot Ferris Alexander Gordon-Wood Sam Murphy Agata Nielsen Sonja Seva Aaron Thakar Ben Woodward Hiwet Zamelak CREATIVES Director: George Abbott Producer: Margot Cadic Stage Manager: Ruby Scott Light and Sound Operator: Alexis Childs Photographer: Tomos Ody Graphic Designer: Katie Sharp Theatre Company: Spare The Rod

‘Thanks for Having Me explores the stories we tell ourselves about our relationships and the reasons we pursue them.’ ★★★ The stage is set with a stylish modern day kitchen and lounge, reflecting a thirty something person, with a decent job, in the UK today. The vocal warmth of Amy Winehouse plays in the background. The lighting on stage shifts, the audience settles and the first scene begins. Maya, played by Adeyinka Akinrinade and Honey, played by Kedar Williams-Stiring enter, playfully, with an obvious attraction to each other. The chemistry between the two actors takes a while to ignite and we begin to feel the connection between them in the second half of the play. Honey’s best friend Cashel, played by Keenan Kemper, gate crashes the evening bringing with him slapstick humour and an absurdist element to the play. The dialogue is fast paced and funny at times. The friendship portrayed between the two best friends grows in warmth and authenticity as the story unfolds. However, the shifts in their perspectives, are not always believable and could leave you feeling a little short changed. Eloise, played by Nell Tiger Free, the close friend of Maya, touches on some of the intricacies of female sexuality, although a little preachy, some very important issues are introduced. Thanks for Having Me, explores the stories we tell ourselves about our relationships and the reasons we pursue them. The play uncovers some of these complexities and hints at others. Although this is a thirty something story the themes are relatable to those in their forties and beyond. KB Productions presents: REVIEW: Thanks for Having Me at Riverside Studios 7 – 26 April 2025 Written by Keelan Kember | Directed by Monica Cox Riverside Studios, Studio 2 MAIN HOUSE 7 –26 April BOX OFFICE Cast Eloise Nell Tiger Free Honey Kedar Williams-Stirling Cashel Keelan Kember May Adeyinka Akinrinade

“An interesting and timely conversation.” ★★★ After the recent success of “Adolescence” one cannot help but wonder how much young men need to see themselves portrayed on Stage, Film, and TV to offer a helping hand in validating the complexity of their feelings. The play offers a subtle undercurrent on the nature of the incel movement and how even Jake, who aims to think progressively, can fall prey to the idea that a woman’s lack of love is to blame for his friend’s downfall. Jake also delivers strong judgement over Miles’s girlfriend Lauren whom he believes is taking Miles away from him. The balance to this is his love for his ex-Nora who he believes can do no wrong. The play does well to offer various viewpoints on a situation where no one can come out on top whilst depicting an authentic male friendship. Both Sam Bates (Jake) and Louis Martino (Miles) perform admirably throughout, comfortably inhabiting their characters and the mess the absence of Riley (played by Harrison Sharpe) has left them in. However, I believe the plot pacing, lets the actors down. We spend an inordinate amount of time going back and forth on who is to blame for Riley which leads to a lack of balance. We get a handful of blink and you miss it camaraderie between the two and a couple of Riley’s voice notes are hopeful. However, these attempts are too small to get the audience to a place of caring for the young men. A key moment between Miles and Jake that should feel dangerous is never fully delivered. The actors need more of an arc to play with. The ending does hit the right note with the love between the two being evident despite their differences but sadly the plot let down what should have been a beautiful pay off. A final note, the choice to never show the actor playing Riley (Harrison Sharpe) is a bold one and realistic to the circumstance of the plot but I think having the actors do nothing during Riley’s videos and voice notes was a waste. The piece could do with tech support to give Bates and Martino an atmosphere to amplify their performance, which will help Overwhelm to strike more of a chord with its audience. The play is worth the watch so go catch it at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre while you can. The show runs until Saturday 12th April. - Overwhelm is at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre from 8th – 12th April. - Written and directed by Stacey Cullen, from Working Progress Collective who are associates of the Lion and Unicorn. - Box office: What's On — LION & UNICORN THEATRE Reviewed by Heather Antonia Parsons

‘impressive production of an overstretched play’ ★★★ Many things are deadly in the theatre. Cleopatra’s asp. Edward the Second’s poker. Virtually any poison you can think of in Agatha Christie. But there’s little more deadly than the words “Do you remember”? Especially when followed by lengthy back-story exposition about how the characters on a stage in front of us reached the crisis point that sits at the heart of a drama. And that’s a problem in this curate’s egg of an impressive production of an overstretched play where the director Nick Hennegan has done a brilliant job with lights and sounds and disembodied voices to cover for a repetitive script by the very same Nick Hennegan. Say a thing three times and it is true, but say £232 million pounds about 232 million times and it begins to feel like overkill. That detail drilled and redrilled into the audience’s head isn’t the only one. Phrases multiply repeated and scenes that vary little in tone or tempo, added to a tendency to tell rather than show the past that’s brought our principal character, Bob (Greg Snowden), to the darkest of dark places, make a strong central story the weaker. Which is a shame because there’s a brilliant idea here. Admittedly it’s not a wholly original idea (Marlowe, Goethe and even Peter Cook and Dudley Moore have thoroughly mined it before this), but Hennegan does have his own particularly nasty Faustian bargain in mind as a father in the depths of despair is offered the traditional untold riches in return for a price. And his Devil is a deeply sinister voice-only presence (voiced by Guy Masterson), until it inhabits the body of Bob’s daughter. Hennegan has also coaxed two strong performances. Particularly so from comparative newcomer Juliet Ibberson as Tamsin, the daughter, switching very sweetly from naturalistic teenager to robotically possessed entity (the special effects aren’t quite up to a 360-degree Exorcist headspin, but there’s a sense of it in her glass-eyed stare). Atmospheric music by Hennegan’s long-term theatrical partner Nick Robb, a very inventive lighting design from Nat Green, some nice tricks involving a fridge, clever use of audiovisual to fill out the back story – all this is great, too, engaging, building a sense of dread. Care has been taken, attention paid to the sound, visuals and staging. But a stripping of the verbal repetitions to reduce the show to a brisker running time would prevent the drops in dread and tension that result from going over the same points (dad’s lost his job, his wife might be leaving him, the house might get repossessed, he had a mostly happy childhood until adulthood got messy) and the unvarying temptation-resistance-temptation-acquiescence-temptation-resistance rythym of the scenes. This is the show’s afterlife – a version first ran 27 years ago in a Birmingham pub theatre and then, award-winningly, at the Edinburgh Fringe. It’s been revised, updated, and, one suspects given usual Edinburgh running times, extended a bit. Less might leave us wanting more. A GHOST OF A CHANCE by Nick Hennegan at Theatre at the Tabard, Chiswick 2 – 19 April 2025 Director: Nick Hennegan Box Office: https://tabard.org.uk/ Reviewer David Weir’s plays include Confessional (Oran Mor, Glasgow), and Better Together (Jack Studio, London). Those and others performed across Scotland, Wales and England, and in Australia, Canada, South Korea, Switzerland and Belgium. Awards include Write Now Festival prize, Constance Cox award, SCDA best depiction of Scottish life, and twice Bruntwood longlisted.

If you want to know what God thinks about money, just look at the people He gives it to. – Dorothy Parker ★★★★ There’s a little gem of a show at a little gem of a new theatre in Camden. If more people knew about it, you would be hard pressed to buy a seat, but they don’t. You may never have heard of the Libra Theatre Café – it’s been open less than a year – but it turns the pub theatre concept on its head: the theatre owns the café, rather than the other way round, and the café is there to serve the theatre. When you go into the café on the ground floor, the two young women who pour your drinks are the two actors who founded and run the theatre, Jessica Cole and Simina Ellis. The theatre is in the basement, and underground trains are clearly audible, rumbling past every few minutes. With this production at least, their main effect was to add to the atmosphere. The one woman play is about Dorothy Parker (1893-1967), writer, wit and socialite in inter-war New York. This makes the task of writer and director Glenn T. Griffin easier than that of most playwrights, because the laugh out loud lines are all written for him. Dorothy Parker was wonderfully witty and clever, and the dilemma for Griffin must have been what to leave out. There are some Parker lines and short poems you cannot leave out, because Parker afficionados will be waiting for them. He would not be forgiven for failing to include “Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses” – though unless I blinked, he did fail to include “Time may be a great healer but it’s a lousy beautician.” He did however get in my favourite among her short verses: “By the time you swear you're his, “Shivering and sighing. “And he vows his passion is, “Infinite, undying “Lady make note of this -- “One of you is lying.” He also had the good sense to know that when Parker fell in love, he did not need to write the scene where she is waiting and hoping for a phone call – Parker had written it as a short story, and all he needed to do was adapt it for the stage. What he does have to do is to tell us about the complex and often despairingly unhappy woman who wrote these lines; chronicle her abortion, her suicide attempts, her descent into alcoholism, her sexual relationships with a series of unsuitable men. It helps that Carol Parradine, who plays Parker brilliantly, gets just the right balance between brittleness and vulnerability. The small auditorium is laid out with tables, cabaret-style, which seems right for a show about a New York socialite. Endless trouble has been taken over the staging, with curtains, decanters of whisky, chairs and even a book evoking the period, and you walk in to the sort of music Parker would have heard every day of her life. The show isn’t faultless, of course – nothing is. For one thing, it throws away some of Parker’s best lines in a recording before Parradine enters. But it’s a fitting tribute to one of the most interesting people of the twentieth century. What Fresh Hell is It? at The Libra Theatre CAFÉ, Camden, London 4 – 20 April 2025 BOX OFFICE Written and Directed by Glenn T. Griffin Starring Carol Parradine Adapted from the works, wit and wisdom of Dorothy Parker Reviewed by Francis Beckett