Reviews

"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