“sharp, poetic, subtle, and most of all, entertaining” ★★★★★ Plays about climate change are becoming increasingly popular as we try to process the world handed to us by our parents’ generation. A world that is burning, melting…bleached. But not many climate plays are able to capture the absurdity of the situation or make an audience laugh at the darkness of it all quite as authentically as Laura Collins’s BLEACHED. In a series of snappy vignettes, four Australian tourists attempt to soak up the planet before it’s too late. Directed and designed by Tobias Abbott, this black comedy skilfully examines climate anxiety and humanity’s vain attempts to cling onto a world that is collapsing beneath our feet. Exceptional performances from the cast are layered above a deeply considered soundscape, transporting the audience to quivering glaciers, Berlin nightclubs, and bleached coral reefs as Collins combines witty dialogue with hopeful yet elegiac monologues about everything we should do before the end of the world. Visually, BLEACHED does away with set design, using four suitcases and minimal clothing to take the Etcetera Theatre audience across the world. Bodhi, played by an effervescent Alice Pryor, wants to see the Northern Lights but forget (on purpose) to take a picture, while Hen, played by a cool and manipulative Estelle Cousins, doesn’t see the point in caring. Images of rats “burning mega cities brimming with billions of bodies” punctuate scenes where couples split (literally and metaphorically) on melting ice caps and the list of closed borders swells. Rose Adams is sensational as the anxious volunteer, Anika, and reverent as Gab’s irritated partner, Nima. Gab is played by a measured Timothy Dennett: the sweet but suffocating boyfriend (and Santa) whose attempts to cling onto the women in his life are as futile as pretending climate change isn’t real. Where the play really excels in its use of structure. Despite jumping between different characters and storylines, Abbott and Collins bring the show full circle with an intriguing climax that is both hilarious and disturbing and that I will not give away. Furthermore, it feels like we’re in lockdown, but maybe not for Covid. The idea of being a “lockdown leaper” or a “final flyer” could mean one of two things: an attempt to take in the world before it’s gone or to run away from the responsibilities of modern life. The script is full of brilliant one-liners with original ideas about climate change and individual responsibility – something that is hard to come by in our digital everyday. BLEACHED is sharp, poetic, subtle, and most of all, entertaining. Talking Bird Productions make full use of the black box theatre at The Etcetera and give their audience much to think about on the way home. In short: a must watch. BLEACHED by Laura Collins Talking Bird Productions in association with Alice Pryor and Frisson Collective Etcetera Theatre 20 th – 23 rd July 2025 Box office: https://www.etceteratheatrecamden.com/events/bleached CREATIVE Director – Tobias Abbott Sound and Lighting Designer – Tobias Abbott CAST Alice Pryor – Bodhi Rose Adams – Anika / Nima Timothy Dennett – Gab / Santa Estelle Cousins - Hen Social media: @talkingbirdproductions

“The dialogue stings and quips” ★★★★ In his debut play BIG SHOES, Rowan Williams has created two male characters that understand how to talk about their feelings. And talk about their feelings they do: sadly, lovingly, hot-headedly. Two brothers lose their father – who was a clown (“both metaphorically and literally”) – and struggle in the wake of his death to realise their careers as comedians amongst the pressures of family, poverty and self-esteem. Their double act, the K-Hole Surgery, keeps them close as brothers, but when Jay (Rowan Williams) announces he’s leaving comedy to look after his new family, Tom (Luke Sumner) falls apart. The brothers fluctuate between love and resentment for one another, and Williams cleverly constructs a co-dependent relationship that survives alcoholism, grief and suicidal ideation. I’m making the play sound macabre. It’s not – it’s hilarious, and Luke Sumner is electric as the wild, self-important young comedian who can make a joke out of anything but will never fill his father’s big (clown) shoes. Longlisted for the Theatre503 International Playwriting Award, Williams’ play excels in its nuanced portrayal of a fraternal relationship that – despite being knocked about from all corners – always returns to a shared centre. The dialogue stings and quips as one brother leans on the other and we fully understand that they are – in life as in their double act – the “full half of the other person’s world”. Williams’ script is expertly composed, offering a unique ‘palette cleanser’ before the final, explosive scene. Sumner breaks character and riffs with the audience, as if performing his own stand-up gig, and manages to lead an orchestra of noise in canon without causing too much embarrassment among the audience, which, in London, is no small feat. Amid absurd portrayals of comedy characters such as the ‘Ham Paedophile,’ Williams carves a symbol of the brothers’ father into the play: his red clown nose. At times, Jay can’t bring himself to touch it; at others, he tries to snatch it off of Tom. The red nose seems to act as a kind of permission from their father: a license to fully embrace comedy and all that comes with it. Whether that’s a wise idea is questioned throughout the play, as it explores alcoholism, depression and the feeling of always being the underdog: “In comedy, as in life, you are still an amateur.” While the production perhaps could have pushed further, both Summer and Williams match the script’s brilliance in a play that is equal parts honest, vulnerable and funny. BIG SHOES by Rowan Williams Autonymic Theatre co-production with Isabelle Kirk The Hope Theatre 8 th – 12 th July 2025 Box office: https://www.ticketsource.co.uk/whats-on/207-upper-street/the-hope-theatre/big-shoes/e-mobkaj CREATIVE Director – Tom Greaves Stage Manager – Bea Hart CAST Younger – Luke Sumner Older – Rowan Williams Social media: @autonymictheatre; @rowantwilliams; @flukesummer; @tdrgreaves

“director Sam Smithson comes to play in this funny, provocative and inventive piece of theatre” ★★★★1/2 Martin Crimp’s ‘Attempts on Her Life’ is a director’s playground, and Not Quite Ready’s director Sam Smithson certainly comes to play in this production at the Hen & Chickens Theatre. With ‘17 scenarios for the theatre’ written sans character, sans stage direction, and sans narrative thread bound only by a female other, namely Anne/Annie/Anya/Annuhska – who might be a terrorist, or an expensive sports car, or the girl next door, or a backpacker or an artist documenting her suicide attempts – Crimp’s play demands a response to present socio-political context. His surrealism is aptly summarised in the line, ‘it’s surely the point that the search for a point is pointless,’ as the play cuts between harrowing depictions of ethnic violence and satirical monologues on capitalism. Not Quite Ready Productions boast an impressive ensemble who manage, with great energy and craft, to build a narrative out of the apparent episodic chaos of the play. What that narrative is depends on the audience member, so I will avoid my own interpretation so as not to ruin the fun. There are many elements to compliment, notably the video and lighting design from Beril Yavuz; I was absorbed particularly by animations of girls in lingerie that felt like a strange crossroad between a strip club, The Sims and a campaign for positive sex work. Wil Pritchard’s sound design and composition is equally as effective, the final piece of a unique creative puzzle. Director Sam Smithson demonstrates a sophisticated command of storytelling, staging THE CAMERA LOVES YOU in a 2000s nightclub, GIRL NEXT DOOR as a leather-clad rock number (performed by a captivating Tom Terry), and TRAGEDY OF LOVE AND IDEOLOGY as a kind of writers’ room set against the backdrop of the Third Reich. Another favourite was UNTITLED (100 words), where Cameron Wilson plays a flamboyant art critic, glasses thick-rimmed and nose up-turned, walking the boundaries of satire with expertise. Meghan Bartual Smyth brings a calm steadiness to the play’s anarchy, while Bethany Monk-Lane delivers racking monologues with a crazed but crafted twinkle in her eye. While the company’s name does suggest that the show needs a final polish, this is a funny, provocative and inventive piece of theatre that entertains on both an absurd and a human level. Whether you know the play or it’s your first venture into Crimp’s weird world, Not Quite Ready’s production of ‘Attempts on Her Life’ is not to be missed. Photography: Claire McHugh Attempts on Her Life by Martin Crimp Not Quite Ready Productions Hen & Chickens Theatre 10 th – 14 th June 2025 Box office: https://www.unrestrictedview.co.uk/attempts-on-her-life-by-martin-crimp/ CREATIVE Director - Sam Smithson Video and Lighting Designer - Beril Yavuz Sound Designer and Composer - Wil Pritchard ENSEMBLE Bethany Monk-Lane Cameron Wilson Meghan Bartual Smyth Tom Terry Social media: @nqrproductions

“an authentic show that presents an important and untold story” ★★★ Mrs T Foresees is as bonkers as pub theatre gets, but for very good reasons. Through a series of devised vignettes, it documents the true(ish) story of the Irish fortune-teller Molly Tolpuddle (Mrs T) who ventured to Australia in the 19 th century to make something of herself. She was an entertainer, and so the red curtains and wooden crates above the Lion & Unicorn pub and the interaction with the audience are a fitting means of storytelling. We meet Molly as she arrives at the Yarra Bend Home for the Lunatic and Insane in New South Wales and is taunted by her new inmates, Franny, Lewis and Pinky. Molly (Carol Tagg) monologues about her journey and her life as an entertainer, a servant, a mother, a wife and an outcast. A lively and physically impressive ensemble of actors spook in ghostly makeup and tremble with the weight of their mental illnesses, playing the characters that peppered her life. The play is a great example of well-researched and innovative devised theatre, but unfortunately suffers from being too long. The writer and director, Gail Matthews, has created lyrical beauty from old wives’ tales and colonial lullabies, but gives them too much space in the play. Mrs T Foresees runs for over two hours, when really the story only needs one. It is more novel-esque than drama: the monologues press on too long and it is far more descriptive than action-led. The play’s strength lies in the absurdity and commitment of its ensemble (Dottie Lubienska, Michael Nowak, Tom Barnes) who swarm Molly with their lunacy and react viscerally to her every word. Their madness is confrontational, in-yer-face, and requires the breadth of the actors’ voices and bodies – they are excellent. Tagg’s performance as Molly is just as committed, but tires with the length of the script. In the director’s note, Matthews writes that the cast sprung from an improvised drama group called Three Worlds, and it is evident that the show was built through workshopping and improvisation. Having participated in many projects like this throughout my Drama degree, I can appreciate the work that it takes to build a world from newspaper cuttings, interviews and piles upon piles of research. One cannot discredit the creative team’s commitment to building an authentic show that presents an important and untold story, but the show would benefit from their condensing the piece by at least half. I thoroughly enjoyed the scenes in the asylum and wondered if, to give Molly more agency, there might be scope for a framing device where Molly instructs the ensemble to re-enact the important moments in her life. This would serve to tighten each scene, each transition, and in turn abbreviate a play whose brilliant moments are at present lost amongst the sheer quantity of material that has made it into the script. Photography: Tara Basi Mrs T Foresees by Gail Matthews and Copilot Projects Lion & Unicorn Theatre 27 th May – 7 th June 2025 Box office: https://www.thelionandunicorntheatre.com/whats-on Written and directed by Gail Matthews Visual Creative Director – Sara Curnock Crook Technical Creative Director – Richard Allport Technician – Laura Hulme  Cast Carol Tagg – Molly Tolpuddle Dotty Lubienska – Franny Michael Nowak - Lewis Tom Barnes – Pinky Social media: @MrsTForesees

“left me wanting so much more” ★★ Set in a London Slimming World group and based off writer and director Emma Burnell’s own experience with weight loss, Four Weigh Ins & A Funeral is a collection of tableaus, or meetings, rather, depicting the friendship and love of food shared between five women. While the play does reflect diverse palates and reasons for losing weight, it doesn’t push much further than this. There are some plays that remind you of the sheer breadth of creativity that bursts from new writing and innovative directing: unfortunately this is not one of them. But, as I heard audience members sniffling at the play’s more emotional moments, I remembered that not all theatre necessarily has to break boundaries. It made me question what place shows like this have in the theatrical landscape: shows that tell stories as they happened with no conflict and little dramatic action. Shows that are, as Burnell writes, ‘made with love’: that stand not to challenge but to display. The plot that carries us through each scene – punctuated repeatedly by the chorus of ‘All About That Bass’ by Meghan Trainor – is sad. Marcia (Maurtrice Wagner) is diagnosed with cancer but continues to show up to each group. A standout moment in the play is her monologue where she explains why she is still trying to lose weight. “This I can control,” she commands, determined to fit into the dress she has already chosen for her funeral. Beyond this, the group have become a family to her, which is a theme that runs throughout. There are moments of storytelling that shine, but that are regrettably let down by static direction and a questionable use of video. Opportunities to inject energy into the play are missed, like the dancing at Jenny’s wedding being filmed in costume in the same black box theatre and then…played back to the audience. This confused me: if the stage is there and the costumes are there and the actors are there, why not do it on stage to an audience that is also there? Four Weigh Ins & A Funeral left me wanting so much more. If there is a place for theatre that displays without conflict or dramatic action, then I believe it should display with courage. Set monologues that fantasise about food to sexy music, show daydreams of temptation in their naughtiest form, awash with pink lights or a waterfall of chocolate tipped from the gantry. If it’s about community and friendship, invite the audience to share their own stories and involve them in the narrative. Seek ways to make it art, rather than a 60-minute anecdote. I’m sure that this play is probably a very accurate representation of a Slimming World group and the familial bonds born from it, but as a dynamic piece of theatre, it holds back far more than most people on a diet. Four Weigh Ins & A Funeral by Emma Burnell Lion & Unicorn Theatre 6 th – 10 th May 2025 Box office: https://app.lineupnow.com/event/four-weigh-ins-and-a-funeral Written and directed by Emma Burnell Produced by Third Act Productions Cast Claire Fairman – Jenny Berny Baretto – Faiza Maurtrice Wagner – Marcia Lou Mellanie Hutchings – May Nance Turner – Kelly Social media : @ThirdActProds Website : https://thirdact.productions

Photography: Alex Brenner ‘Bevan’s script sizzles with quips’ ★★★★ We meet Daniel and Julia as they test each other on their Mandarin, surrounded by saturated bookshelves in the comfort of their middle-class home. 50 and 42 respectively, the couple are a little old to be thinking about children, but both on their second marriage and two miscarriages into IVF treatment, have decided to adopt. It’s the 90s, and, as older parents that want a child under the age of two, they have to go overseas to find a baby. The Chinese government are more than willing, as their one-child policy has left thousands of babies in orphanages. However, Daniel and Julia, who have been to multiple seminars on parenting and think they can cope, must pass a rigorous home study. Enter Zaydee, a feisty, no-nonsense social worker whose prejudice for the middle class irritates her boss, Cynthia, who argues that she “cannot rule them out just because they listen to Radio 4 and know what an avocado is.” Judi Bevan’s debut play creates a dialectic around the right to have a family, loosely based on her own experience of adoption in the 1990s. Her script sizzles with quips on white saviourism, classism, and the idea that having “too many books” is a sign of naivety towards real-world issues. This intrigued me especially as at the back of the programme there is an advert for a company that provide books as interior decoration – a bit like when crash insurance is advertised on the most-crashed-into corner of a racetrack. Bevan presents arguments on both sides in ‘Too Many Books,’ showing on the one hand why scrutiny is important, as couples motivated to adopt because they want to rescue or replace a child are not adopting for the right reasons. Alexandra O’Neil gives an astute performance as Zaydee, whose hard-headed, pragmatic attitude around the couple breaks down in front of Cynthia, who has forgiven her for past malpractice because she was “the best of a bad lot.” Conversely, Bevan argues through Daniel – played warmly by John Sackville – that it is innately human to want a family, and everyone should have the right to try for one. The couple become more exasperated as Zaydee builds a case against them, but the war between the adoption agency, ‘Forever Families,’ and the literature-loving, out-of-touch couple is brought, unsurprisingly, to an end when they hire a lawyer who is “very experienced, very expensive, and very smug.” ‘Too Many Books’ is undoubtedly a political piece of theatre, attempting to highlight the care crisis in the 90s and beyond. It questions how a child can be better off abandoned in an orphanage than with well-meaning, loving parents of a different ethnicity. While it rehashes this point perhaps too many times in the play’s repetitive second half, the main issue with Bevan’s script is that the characters don’t change. When reassigned a new social worker, who was conveniently adopted by parents of a different race herself, Daniel and Julia are much the same as they were towards Zaydee, offering tea and homemade biscuits and defending their exhaustive collection of books. But perhaps this is exactly what Bevan is trying to say about the middle class: with money comes power. So Daniel and Julia can have whatever they want. I have a lot more to say about this production but am running out of space – a fine sign that it will leave you with plenty to talk about on the way home. Read Judi Bevan’s article, ‘Back to the Theatre’ here . TOO MANY BOOKS by Judi Bevan Upstairs at The Gatehouse 26th February – 16th March 2025 Box office: https://upstairsatthegatehouse.ticketsolve.com/ticketbooth/shows/1173660360/events/428697262 Written by Judi Bevan Directed by Christopher Hunter Produced by John Jay and Graham & Townley Productions Cast Cynthia – Sue Kelvin Zaydee – Alexandra O’Neil Julia – Lucy Pickles Daniel – John Sackville Chloe – Carol Walton

‘GREEN has strong roots is in its reflection of the music industry, which reduces identity and emotions to business transactions.’ ★★★½ Meg Schadler’s play GREEN has solid thematic foundations, critiquing the exploitative nature of the music industry. It follows upcoming singer-songwriter Jude and ruthless ‘nepo baby’ Zoe as they tour with Ben, a pop sensation that they are both in love with. Schadler must be congratulated for both stepping in last-minute as the understudy to play ‘Zoe’ and a well-structured script; Jude and Zoe’s desires and ambitions drive the narrative and the love triangle between Jude, Zoe and Ben (who we never meet) shapes the play’s central conflict around emotional (un)availability. Where GREEN has strong roots is in its reflection of the music industry, which reduces identity and emotions to business transactions. Zoe, who is constantly googling where she falls on the ‘World’s Most Useless Nepo Babies’ List, uses Ben’s fame and subsequent power to make something – anything – of herself. She poses as his public girlfriend, despite Ben sleeping with multiple men, including Jude, throughout the tour. Jude falls in love with Ben and convinces himself that their ‘love’ is enough to override Ben’s promiscuous nature but – spoiler alert – it’s not. In the intimate setting of the Old Red Lion Theatre, Jack Hesketh’s soothing renditions of original compositions by Stamatis Seraphim make us feel like a part of Jude’s audience, which becomes bittersweet as it underscores how both fame and love are commodified in the industry. There are moments where the play needs more sunlight however, as the characters feel underdeveloped at times. Zoe’s motivations make sense but lack emotional depth; she can’t find the self-worth to leave Ben, even though he doesn’t care about her. Jude’s character shifts – namely being teetotal to drinking heavily – are introduced but not explored, making his naivety feel somewhat forced. As such, Zoe and Jude’s friendship, despite being central to the narrative, is at times unconvincing; Jude believes in it but as the audience we struggle to see why. Zoe is self-centred, pushy. She insists that she acts as his friend but cares more for his fame than his feelings. She is nosey, drinks too much, attaches her self-worth to the success of others, and her views on sexuality are questionable. She is, of course, a victim of public speculation and the play is bookended by soundbites from social media, conspiracy theories and hyperbole about her love life. I left the play wanting more. More hyperbole, more speculation, more gossip to truly reflect the absurdity of life in the public eye. The direction could embrace this missed opportunity, weaving stylised social media moments throughout and injecting more energy into the narrative. GREEN holds back, hesitant to fully explode, but its compelling set of conflicts have the potential to build towards a more dynamic climax with bolder, more adventurous direction. One of the play’s most telling moments is when Jude insists, “I can’t just become a cliché.” He is afraid of losing originality in an industry that thrives on formulaic success, something that Zoe profits from. However, there’s an irony here – despite its sharp critique of the music business, GREEN itself leans on familiar tropes. The love triangle, the tortured artist trapped in an exploitative contract, and the ruthless manager who sacrifices personal integrity for success are all well-worn narratives. GREEN has put down strong roots with its structure and ideas. With more energy, less predictability, and a bolder, fresher approach to its themes, its branches could grow away from the very clichés it seeks to challenge and blossom instead into a truly striking story. GREEN by Meg Schadler FreshFest at The Old Red Lion Pub Theatre 18th – 20th February 2025 Box office: https://www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk/green.html Written and directed by Meg Schadler Original music composition by Stamatis Seraphim Performed by Meg Schadler and Jack Hesketh

‘a vulnerable and cathartic play that pushes towards hope and happiness.’ ★★★ ½ ‘Spring & Other Things’ brims with anxiety: about global warming, war, mental health, humanity…and post-theatrically, about expressing all of these ideas through a play. Chloe Yates, both writer and performer, nervously announces that she’s going to tell us a story. Because sharing stories is important, whether they are difficult to recount or not. And while this story leans more towards prose than it does drama, it is a brave, semi-autobiographical tale that provides a rich insight into the brains and bodies cooped up in an adolescent psychiatric ward. As she counts down to her 18th birthday, Chloe tells us how she went from rock bottom – fantasising about suicide and coping with borderline personality disorder – to leaving her psychiatric unit and standing up for her beliefs. The play begins and ends with the same scene: Chloe preparing for a protest in Camden Market, talking to a statue of Amy Winehouse, finding the energy to fight for the planet because there are things that she loves about being alive. In between, the play builds to her 18th birthday, after which she must leave the adolescent ward she has come to love and move to an adult ward, forced to start again. Suicidal ideation is a challenging subject to stage, and it must be said that Yates treats it with a subtle care and deep understanding. Scenes are punctuated with moments of joy as she remembers what she loves about being alive, and the script never feels overly expositional or convoluted. The direction, by Georgia Leanne Harris, is neatly dramaturgical and makes great use of the black box space in the Old Red Lion Theatre. However, Spring & Other Things feels like the predecessor of a larger play, as it tells a personal story but also comments significantly on selfishness, capitalism and a broken care system. “Maybe a breakdown is a perfectly reasonable response to the world that you have created for us,” Chloe argues to her psychiatrists and the doctor with three houses who shows up once a month in a Land Rover to check on his surplus of anxious patients. I would have liked to meet these other characters, these villains that command great swathes of Chloe’s brain. Yates’s performance is delivered at the speed of a psychiatric patient’s mind and therefore we don’t sit with other characters for any length of time. She regularly reminds her audience that she hates public speaking, and therefore it would be interesting to see how this play might improve its drama and conflicts with other bodies on stage. As the show reaches its conclusion, audience members are invited to share what they love about being alive, and then we sing together. Yates has created a vulnerable and cathartic play that pushes towards hope and happiness. It certainly has potential, and I would be interested to see it break out of monologue and into something bigger. Photography: Tricia Wey Spring & Other Things by Chloe Yates Old Red Lion Pub Theatre 3rd-7th & 10th-14th December 2024 Box office: https://www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk/spring-other-things.html Written and performed by Chloe Yates Directed by Georgia Leanne Harris Produced by LJ Hope Productions

‘a fearless production that says a lot with a little’ ★★★★½ I walk up the stairs to the black box theatre above the Drayton Arms pub and I am met with the infectious energy of a trio in white shirts, black ties and no bottoms. The cast of ‘funeral teeth’ hand out lollipops, condoms, tampons and tissues to audience members in the preset to a brilliantly bawdy play. I am enthusiastic, having unwrapped my lollipop and written what I’d hate to lose most on a slip of paper (to be used later in the show); I am sure from the outset that this is fresh and exciting theatre. We are given multiple trigger warnings and encouraged to look after ourselves as the show deals with adult themes, and we are reminded of the company’s open-door policy. Succulent Theatre’s Rio, Amy and Katja command the stage in a 60-minute celebration of autobiographical storytelling. They mix sex and love and queerness with grief, loss, drugs, suicide, eating disorders, assault, abortion, funerals and teeth, all the while speaking to a universal feminine experience with nuance and care. Profound, confessional monologues are punctuated by physical vignettes: grandparents battling google maps in the car, losing your virginity to a boy (“DID YOU CUM??”), yanking out a Mooncup from between your best friend’s legs and shoving your grandma’s coffin into the ground because the hole is too small. In such a short piece, the company manage, half-naked, to both cover a plethora of social issues and drum up pride for femininity. There is power in sharing stories to educate, particularly when they address mental health. Succulent Theatre are powerful, carving a positive space for the female body to occupy, and ‘funeral teeth’ left me wishing I’d known about their work sooner. Slick lighting and sound design bolster stellar performances from all three actors, who deliver multiple characters, physicality and moments of tenderness with impressive ingenuity. Only at the end of the show do they pull on their trousers, as if saying goodbye to the funeral of their collective losses: eulogies delivered, friends’ traumas re-enacted. The play itself is a kind of united therapy, inviting its audiences to reflect on their own losses and the ‘weird, smudged version of the world’ that takes shape after someone dies. ‘funeral teeth’ is a show about loss, yes, but it’s also a show about joy, the power of female friendships and bouncing back after hardship. Whether you have lost a part of yourself to a relationship, a disorder, a procedure or a death, Succulent Theatre remind us that there is hope in laughter and comfort in confession. This is a fearless production that says a lot with a little and, above all, is a lot of fun. funeral teeth By Succulent Theatre Drayton Arms Theatre 12th – 16th November 2024 @succulenttc Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated with an MFA in Scriptwriting from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in London.

 'A lot of contradictory information to digest, and the audience for this production…quickly lost their appetite’ ½★ Putting on a good play is like cooking a delicious meal. Without a recipe. And therefore only to be attempted by the brave. Multiple – carefully selected – ingredients, prepared lovingly to produce something tasty for a lucky someone to savour and enjoy. Similarly, good theatre is an amalgamation of a tight script, a brave and dedicated cast and crew, shaped and guided by a director and placed in front of an audience to consume and – hopefully – to enjoy. There is no existing recipe for an original piece of theatre and therefore it can only be attempted by the brave writer, bold enough to write a new one. Risks either pay off or they don’t. Unfortunately, P.T. Rose’s play My Wife Fell in Love with A Life Size Cardboard Cut-Out of Ronan Keating takes multiple risks and not a single one of them pays off. The recipe is unclear: the premise of a hodgepodge family (four generations of women, an Elvis impersonator, an Islam convert and a clown) that assemble for Ronan Keating’s birthday (whose cardboard copy stands rigidly upstage, smiling through the whole ordeal) is what drew me to see the show. Alas, I can’t help but regret my decision to eat at this table in the first place. This play, directed by Yvonne Patterson, is about delusion. The delusion of a working-class mother, Sally, whose sexist, fascist, transphobic and racist views of the world have so skewed her reality that she has fallen in love with a cardboard cut-out of Ronan Keating. The delusion of her live-in boyfriend who speaks to her in a tone more revolting than if she was a rat he’d found in his sock drawer. “Carry on cutting your chicken for Keating’s curry and shut your mouth,” he commands, dressed – for some reason – as a clown. And Sally moves from kitchen to sofa, sofa to kitchen, kitchen to Ronan Keating, Ronan Keating to sofa again, in a play so static that one of the audience members was woken up by the final applause. Perhaps the most offensive delusion of all, is that the playwright appears to push a transphobic agenda through Sally and her mother Doreen (whose Ziggy Stardust flash tattoo is big and red and questionable), who shout and shout that no daughter / granddaughter of theirs will be a ‘they’ – as if they have any say in the matter at all. And the writer makes no attempt to sugar coat their belief that education leads to delusion: Phil, Sally’s transgender child has discovered the term non-binary at school and now wants top surgery, but this is construed as an attempt to ‘mutilate’ their body in order to ‘defy societal norms,’ and Sally’s boyfriend, the clown, spends the entire play reading the Financial Times despite recently completing a university module and therefore having found Buddhism, a religion which refutes material wealth. This is a lot of contradictory information to digest, and the audience for this production of My Wife Fell In Love…quickly lost their appetite. There’s a fine line between theatre that comments successfully on societal issues – and takes political shape because it chimes with current events – and theatre that is unapologetically political but cannot decide where it stands on anything. Here we are on that line. P.T. Rose’s play made no sense in the first half, and descended into further senseless chaos in the second, when ex-husband Joe turned Islam convert arrives. He lets himself into the apartment through the age-old cliché of the front door being ‘left wide-open,’ and proceeds to explain that his chosen pronoun is the n-word and insists that everyone call him ‘n***** Joe’ from now on. As I squirmed in my seat, I hoped, I prayed that the writer was trying to say something here, trying to shock us for a reason. But there was absolutely no point to throwing this painful word around, and the jokes that ensued as the outlandish characters corrected themselves and repeated the word over and over were base and gratuitous. Perhaps I join the delusion by attempting to make sense of this play, but one thing I can say for certain is that it was not ready for review. Missed lighting cues, sound issues and a stunt-casted actor who forgot almost all of her lines were just a few indicators that this production was overpriced and under rehearsed. Some actors made the best of a bad situation, others stumbled through the script as poorly as it was written. This is a play where every offensive word or thought is thrown into the space without nuance or soft focus, and yet nothing happens at all. There is bravery involved in disaster. And this play is certainly brave. My Wife Fell in Love with A Life Size Cardboard Cut-Out of Ronan Keating By P.T. Rose, adapted by Tegwyn Burges Directed by Yvonne Patterson Produced by Karen Struel-White & Francoise Pascal Drayton Arms Theatre 5th – 9th November 2024 www.rkplay.net Charlotte Reidie as Sally Meryl Anderson as Doreen Francoise Pascal as Pearl Simon Charles as Clown Nathan Nuurah as Elvis Lily Starkey as Phil Shaz Rocket as Joe Benji Ruhle as The ‘Man’ Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated with an MFA in Scriptwriting from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in Lon

‘a triumph from start to finish’ ★★★★★ Life is a competition. Or so it would seem for Aaron, who is determined to be as good at mourning his father as Arnold Schwarzenegger is at showing off his muscles. Oscar Brudenall-Jones’s debut one-man show ‘Maybe I Should Stop’ fluctuates impressively from moments of tragedy to moments of hilarity: a triumph from start to finish. We follow a young man as he travels to St. Ives to scatter his dad’s ashes on their favourite beach, a journey which Brudenall-Jones navigates with vulnerable skill and layered humour. The writer and performer oscillates between the darkness and the light of his own grief and delivers a play that is funny, moving and adept. With only a chair, a rucksack and a box of Celebrations, Brudenall-Jones departs on an exciting expedition in the Lion & Unicorn Theatre, commanding his audience’s attention with every line. We really root for his character – carrying his dad’s ashes on Southwestern Railway in a tub of chocolates – and we yearn for him to reach the beach without being caught. The highs and lows of the story are testament to a sharply executed script, whose rhythm and pace is as masterful as Brudenall-Jones’s impressions of Sean Connery (i.e. very masterful indeed). Further to this he has created a wholly relatable character, who sidesteps confronting his guilt with humour and showmanship. Brudenall-Jones navigates challenging and personal themes in a play that encapsulates the very spirit of pub theatre, making the most of minimal props and design to spin a story rich in humanity and depth. Equally impressive are the design and the direction, which work in harmony to build on themes of mental health and isolation. The lighting design by Conor Costelloe is understated but effective, shifting between moodier blues and brighter states and descending into chaos together with Aaron’s mind. Director Esalan Gates ensures every scene is distinctive, optimising the space and the performer’s remarkable range. ‘Maybe I Should Stop’ has an electric energy which is both darkly comic and soul-stirring. Brudenall-Jones embodies his character with a cathartic naturalism founded in lived experience, and as such has created a courageously honest show. Despite its dark themes, the play is a total delight, and I urge everyone – whether they have lost a loved one or not – to go to laugh, cry and experience this play. Maybe I Should Stop by Oscar Brudenall-Jones Lion & Unicorn Theatre 22 nd – 26 th October 2024 Box office: https://www.thelionandunicorntheatre.com/whats-on Instagram: @may.beishouldstop Written and performed by Oscar Brudenall-Jones Directed by Esalan Gates Lighting design by Conor Costelloe Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated with an MFA in Scriptwriting from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in London.

‘well-choreographed, intricately scored and charming’ ★★★ ½ ‘Mrs Pack’ is a beautifully constructed new musical about the 17 th century wetnurse whose brief but metamorphic time with the Royal Court under Princess Anne gave the young Prince William life. Nia Williams’ show is a delightful piece of storytelling: well-choreographed, intricately scored and charming. The songs blend modern musical with opera, and the cast deliver strong performances across the board. It is a thought-provoking historical story which reminds its audience of how far feminism has come: “Women. They’re everywhere,” smirks the manservant, as the opening number counting Princess Anne’s dead (female) children begins. The set is simple but effective – a washing line fastened gradually with the death certificates of Anne’s babies, miscarried or stillborn, who remained nameless for fault of their gender alone. Katie Blackwell’s direction delivers an energetic and neatly choreographed story, which itself is expertly structured and lyrical. Williams’ writing carries the audience through Anne’s 17 births to finally settle on the triumphant arrival of the young Prince. Played by the gifted Isabella Jeffrey, the heir is a sweet and comical character, whose plushie life in the Royal Court highlights the gaping class divide in England in the 1600s. Women fuss and flutter to keep the heir alive, with Mrs Pack, his wetnurse, disregarding her own child to provide milk for the monarchy. “His tiny mouth is a perfect fit around the nipple!” the Court exclaims, as their search for the perfect pair of breasts is complete. Spoiler alert: Mrs Pack’s presence in the Royal household sparks jealousy, and, declared as “nothing more than a backstreet sow,” she is eventually ousted by Atty, the Chief Nurse, played by Olivia Baker. Baker’s performance is softer than the rest, carrying minor melodies with poise to reflect the melancholy of the narrative. In contrast, Freya Jacklin-Edward brings a bawdy but tenacious energy to Mrs Pack, whose reprobate status as a lower-class woman results in history almost forgetting her entirely. Chris Johnstone is effervescent as the manservant Jenkins, and the show finds its funny bones in his camp and jocular portrayal of the patriarchy. The ideas, costume design, choreography, music and production value in ‘Mrs Pack’ are irrefutably strong, but unfortunately the play loses focus in terms of genre. There are moments of utter hilarity (what’s not funny about boobs?) juxtaposed with sorrowful, operatic numbers (as infant mortality might necessitate), however the relationship between the two is unclear. The show is very enjoyable and tightly rehearsed, but on occasion I was unsure if I should be laughing. ‘Mrs Pack’ is an impressive piece of theatre with undeniable potential, but might profit from being surer of its sense of humour and desired effect. Mrs Pack by Nia Williams Etcetera Theatre 19-20 th , 24-25 th August 2024 Box office: https://camdenfringe.com/events/mrs-pack/ Written by Nia Williams Directed by Katie Blackwell Composition and musical direction by Three Chairs and a Hat CAST Atty, the Chief Nurse – Olivia Baker Mrs Pack / Lady Sarah - Freya Jacklin-Edward Jenkin Lewis / Prince George / Princess Anne – Chris Johnstone Mrs Fortress / Queen Mary / Prince William – Isabella Jeffrey Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated with an MFA in Scriptwriting from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in London.

‘equal parts silly, sexy and astute ’ ★★★★ In light of the recent and uncomfortable media debates around gender in Olympic boxing, Celeste Cahn’s piece about what it means to be a lady and the ramifications of ‘masculinity’ could not be more relevant. ‘A Lady Does Not Scratch Her Crotch’ mixes monologues with multi-rolling as its protagonist learns how to act like a woman; from trying to masturbate with a flower to discovering the power of blonde hair, Cahn explores the performativity of gender in a one-woman show that is equal parts silly, sexy and astute. Dramaturgically, the show is well-considered. As the audience enters, they are invited to play children’s games like MASH and fortune teller, only to be cursed with ugliness by a witch. Cahn decodes the concept of beauty through Beauty and the Beast, masquerading as Belle and interacting with characters like Lumière (a sock puppet with a moustache), Mrs Potts (who catches her masturbating), Plumette (who teaches her how to wear makeup) and Gaston (an artful sharpie smile on Cahn’s bicep). The set consists only of storage boxes filled with Disney princess paraphernalia alongside coming-of-age teen essentials; a particular favourite of mine was a magazine titled ‘Happy Endings’ boasting a big-breasted Cinderella on its cover. There was a certain romance to watching this young woman grow to understand herself and her sexuality through the eyes of a Disney princess; Cahn has intertwined Belle’s narrative with her own experience of the male gaze, and her jokes are well-placed and relatable. The audience cannot relax into the romance for too long, however, as Cahn adds clowning and hilarious physicality into the story, and even invites an audience member to kiss her on stage and score it with a rubric (a very funny one at that). There is a sense of triumph for Cahn/Belle in the final scene, where, having complained earlier that “Chip is allowed to polish himself off in the crockery cupboard” while she is expected to act like a “Lady,” she dances to ‘Tale As Old As Time’ with the Beast, closing the show by pushing his head into her crotch. ‘A Lady Does Not Scratch Her Crotch’ is an original take on gender as a performance which blends feminism with comedy in a unique concept; how wonderful to see that a childhood crush on The Beast could lead to such an entertaining piece of theatre. A Lady Does Not Scratch Her Crotch by Celeste Cahn Hen & Chickens Theatre 14 th , 17 th & 18 th August 2024 Box office: https://camdenfringe.com/events/a-lady-does-not-scratch-her-crotch-by-celeste-cahn/ Instagram: @ladydoesnotscratch Written and performed by Celeste Cahn Additional direction by Francesca Hsieh Lighting design and tech operation by Finley Robertson Sound consultation by Alex Ostroff and Francesca Hsieh Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated with an MFA in Scriptwriting from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in London.

‘filled the room with contagious laughter from start to finish’ ★★★★ ½ If you are a fan of political farce, clown comedy and / or are as terrified of AI as the rest of us, then ‘Prototype’ is a must see. Writer and performer Steph Darcey’s debut comedy show filled the room with contagious laughter from start to finish as ‘Amexa,’ the world’s first AI politician, travelled from her US lab to British parliament with synthetic charm and technocratic absurdity. The Old Red Lion Theatre served as the launch stage for company Boogle’s latest invention in an hilarious deconstruction of the robotic nature of political personalities and the UK government. Darcey’s performance as Amexa – a robot programmed specifically for the United Kingdom, who is ‘slick, relatable and charismatic with democracy infiltrating capacities’ – is playful and ridiculous; I laughed so hard at her glitching ‘hear hears’ in a scene at the house of commons that I could barely see. Constructing the play’s narrative through a series of sketches, Darcey embodies this bizarre character with impressive robotic physicality and delivers the charm and pre-programmed humour that the British public have been subject to at the intersection of Theresa May, Liz Truss and Nicola Murray (The Thick of It). When her American creators deem her ready, Amexa is sent to infiltrate the British ‘Perform’ party and she ousts a ‘Preservative’ party MP after a quick whistle blow on his criminal activity. Her rise to political power is punctuated with tutorials from her user manual, where we see her enter a variety of modes (empathy, relatable, endearing dancing) and even access a feature that smacks away proximate milkshakes, should there be any. Despite multiple system failures, Amexa is still elected secretary of state for culture, media and sport after a 7-week stint on Strictly Come Dancing. Political comedy is a saturated genre, wherein shows like Dead Ringers and Spitting Image have set the bar, but ‘Prototype’ is an original and deeply layered satire which I thoroughly enjoyed. While there are perhaps a few too many moments of updating, buffering and system overdrive that obscure the narrative, the show’s structure is maintained by a curious metatheatrical framing device: an AI narrator that interacts with the characters, which left me suitably unsettled as a creative and questioning the relationship between the arts and artificial intelligence. Amexa serves as a comedic blueprint of the mechanical politicians that carry our social, economic and cultural demands on their shoulders, made all the more topical by the recent media return of the Liz Truss lettuce. There is so much in this show to delight fans of political satire and I for one look forward to seeing what Amexa is programmed to do next. Photography: Ali Wright Prototype by Steph Darcey The Old Red Lion Theatre | 13 – 16 th August 2024 The Museum of Comedy | 18 th August 2024 Box office: https://camdenfringe.com/events/prototype/ Instagram: @theamexalab Written and performed by Steph Darcey Directed by Olivia Gibbs-Fairley Tech operated by Cameron Pike Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated with an MFA in Scriptwriting from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in London.

‘delightfully engaging, witty, and relatable’ ★★★★ Holly Gow’s performance as a GP receptionist in her one-woman show ‘How Can(t) I Help?’ at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre wa s delightfully engaging, witty, and relatable. Playing to a full house, Gow’s opening choreography to Wilson Pickett’s ‘Land of 1000 Dances’ prepped the crowd for 50 minutes of impressions, anecdotes from her time in the front row at the NHS and the heart-warming realisation that “everyone’s fighting off their own shit…but there are people that help you see through that shit.” Guttural belly laughs from the audience indicated Gow’s seamless ability to multi-role as a host of hilarious clientele – from a dubious mother collecting her baby’s urine sample, to an old (smelly) man flirting from behind a pot of his own poo. The show moves through a regular Monday at Flowerbank Surgery, and the audience is greeted with appointment cards reading, ‘If you are unable to keep your appointment, please don’t contact us. Like ever.’ While on occasion the narrative arc takes a backseat in favour of moments where the character indulges in self-pity or attempts to win her patients’ approval, the play is neatly punctuated with an ever-ringing landline that delivers a silly selection of the British public shouting about their problems. The play deals – with both irreverence and fragility – with the intricacies of working for the NHS during the pandemic, during the Tory government, and during the 21 st century, the latter of which grants an array of millennial and Gen-Z quips: “Have you tried to wash it out with your own tears? You can borrow mine.” The receptionist sips, as often as she can, from a vat of tea marked ‘MINE’S A LARGE ONE,’ and does her best to delay her morning ‘mindfulness’ break until 8:20 am. Amongst a collection of sketches and stories that recount her best (and mostly worst) times working as a GP receptionist, Gow weaves in a storyline that serves as a vessel to examine human connection. The relationship between a recurring character – an old Irish lady called Maureen – and the receptionist is a refreshing take on empathy; Maureen calls frequently to check the time of her appointment, and Gow’s character is always happy to help because she is a reminder of her nan who died of Alzheimer’s. Maureen has a fall and can’t make her appointment, and it’s clear that the receptionist cares deeply for her wellbeing, despite spending much of the play dealing out unbent cynicism and quick wit: “The doctor’s going to give you a call this afternoon, if you could just try NOT to do it again?” The play closes with an epilogue on human nature and our ability to empathise with people we barely know; Gow cogitates on kindness and reminds her audience that we don’t get further in life by being cruel. ‘How Can(t) I Help?’ is an inspiring debut play from writer and performer Holly Gow, whose commitment to the production as her own director, dramaturg and set designer is enriched by her charming and gifted performance. How Can(t) I Help? by Holly Gow Lion and Unicorn Theatre 2 nd - 3 rd August 2024 Box office https://camdenfringe.com/events/how-cant-i-help/ Holly Gow as The Receptionist Lighting design by Melanie Percy Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated with an MFA in Scriptwriting at the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in London.

‘This play succeeds in its use of Gaiman’s fantastical tropes’ ★★☆☆☆ Fans of improvised theatre will know that half the excitement for attending a show like this is the knowledge that no two nights are the same. There is appeal in the drama of a play being written right in front of you, and as an improviser myself, I was keen to see a new – and indeed niche – style of long form. Directed by Stephen Davidson, Mixed Omens is structured around the tropes of dark fantasy novelist Neil Gaiman. Davidson’s cast of improvisers builds a stylised story using a single prompt: a quiet activity that can be performed alone. Before this, the audience chooses an object – a lock, a flower or a feather – to determine the actor playing the protagonist. Last night’s prompt was ‘boggle,’ which unfortunately served little purpose to the action or the dialogue in the play. Where this play succeeds is in its use of Gaiman’s fantastical tropes. The show opened with a monologue rooting its players in a supernatural forest, accompanied by a movement piece where the ensemble sported mystical masks, glittery makeup and iridescent fabrics. Gaiman’s love of creepy crawlies was honoured with a fly being enveloped by woodlice named ‘Cheesibus’ and ‘Teesibus,’ who lived in an oak tree and reported back to their master, The Darkness. The company’s commitment to Gaiman’s complex mother-daughter relationships resulted in a confusing storyline, which concluded with almost all of the characters being related in one way or another. The closing epilogue delivered heightened fantastical language, underscoring the villain’s undoing alongside smooth lighting transitions from the tech box. While any form of improvisation is undoubtedly impressive, Mixed Omens does more to satisfy the Gaiman genre than it does to deliver improv with wit or story. Despite promised spontaneity and unexpected twists, there were physical moments that felt overly rehearsed and therefore detracted from the story as a whole. Had the company focused less on these seemingly premeditated segments and rather embraced the raw and chaotic energy of the format, the show might have better captured the authenticity that makes improv so compelling. Audiences can be assured that while the nature of the show might elicit adult content, the company chose to ignore recent abuse allegations made against Neil Gaiman. Of course, the show promises to be different every night, so fans of Coraline, Good Omens or Norse Mythology could well enjoy its subsequent performances. Mixed Omens is presented by The Improvised Play Etcetera Theatre 31 st July; 6 th & 10 th August 2024 Box office: https://camdenfringe.com/events/mixed-omens/ Cast: Stephen Davidson, Invi Brenna, Karolina (Karo) Kriks, Chris Mead, Jon Nguyen, Ashara Peiris, Avril Poole, Teresa Senyah, and Kiran Shah Reviewer Bio Imo Redpath is a writer and actor for theatre, radio and TV. She graduated from an MFA in Scriptwriting at the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama and her plays ‘Foxes & Rabbits’ and ‘Pigs’ are currently in development. She writes a comedy blog on Substack about living with ADHD in London.