Reviews

'Layered and nuanced.' ★★★ Two queer men in a relationship are both in therapy - unknowingly - with the same doctor. This is the alluring premise of Liam Scanlon’s new Lottery Grant-winning play, which premiered at the Canal Cafe and is now at Clapham’s Bread & Roses Theatre. Dan, a softly-spoken and reflective American former monk, played by Dan Holland finds himself in London, where he meets Edward, a fey and snooty aristocrat who dabbles in art and drugs. Played by Marley Brown with more theatrical posturing than realism, the contrast sets up a pleasing dynamic, although one character feels more authentic than the other. Edward comes off as more of a caricature: think Gen Z Sebastian Flyte of Brideshead Revisited with undiagnosed ADHD. Their relationship which spools out over the course of two years becomes interdependent and not always in a mutually beneficial way. There is passion, toxicity, LSD & S&M. When Edward’s mother, cast as an old-school, eccentric duchess type who looks like a “drag queen,” wants to write a book about Ryan, the young man from a blue-collar background finds himself in receipt of a handsome advance and effectively bought out by Edward’s family - who live in a stately home complete with butlers to complete the Waugh-inspired allusion. How will this play out? Can and should this unlikely relationship survive? Can Dr Lucarelli, the American therapist played by Bernice Tougher help them navigate the choppy seas as buried traumas surface and resentments and frustrations grow? The lengthy play with no interval has all three characters on stage for the entire 1 hour and 50 minutes. Even though we, the audience, know Ryan and Edward are seeing the therapist separately, it’s effective to hear their responses layered one on top of the other: a mille-feuille of self-examination, self-narration, self-reflection, and self-deflection. When the couple break out of therapy mode and address each other directly in moments of intense attraction orfierce combat, the play moves up a gear and the audience leans forward. While the set is clean and modern, the staging for Attachment Theory is largely static. The therapist character who sits in her chair throughout is opaque with few lines and narratively doesn’t quite earn her keep. While her unethical lack of integrity is ultimately exposed: “Is this data sex for a future paper?” It's too little, too late and this play could potentially have worked more effectively as a shorter and leaner two-hander with the therapist offstage throughout. Liam Scanlon’s writing is layered and nuanced, full of wit and observation, although more action, surprises and stakes would wake up this tasteful talkathon which is full of potential and promise. Box Office

“A compelling modern take on Euripides’ late play.” ★★★ ½ Euripides’ tale of war and an older generation sacrificing a younger one; of parents, specifically fathers, prioritising conflict over their own children, sadly remains as relevant as ever. On the eve of the Trojan War, Agamemnon, king and commander, is weak as only a fearsome warrior can be. Early on we realise he is presented with a terrible dilemma – sacrifice his beloved daughter Iphigenia to appease the goddess Artemis in order to give his fleet a fair wind for battle, or face munity and chaos. In adaptor and director Serdar Biliş’ version we see Agamemnon (played by turns with compassion and fury by Simon Kunz) as a loving father faced with a dreadful choice. But he is also a man who doesn’t seem to spend too much time in making his decision or ever seriously consider choosing family over war. Through the medium of video we also hear real life testimonies of daughters reflecting on their fathers, initially affectionately but their recollections take a darker turn in an effective use of footage. Mithra Malek is strong in the title role. Naively joining her father for what she thinks is her wedding, her terrible fate only gradually dawns on her. Indra Ové as Clytemnestra, Iphigenia’s mother, provides the moral core of the play, confronting her husband about the full horror of his actions. But ultimately the characters are locked into their fates. Biliş’ direction ranges from the playful breaking of the fourth wall in the beginning to incorporating the video testimonies, but doesn’t lose its focus on the tragedy. Kalia Lyraki’s mournful songs add pathos. A compelling modern take on Euripides’ late play. Playing at the Arcola theatre until 2 May: https://www.arcolatheatre.com/event/iphigenia/ IPHIGENIA by Euripides, English version by Stephen Sharkey, adapted and directed by Serdar Biliş Production images: Ikin Yum

“A thoughtfully constructed production with strong design and performances” ★★★ Subject X wakes in a ClearMind facility, having apparently consented to participate in a clinical trial for an experimental dementia drug. With no memory of her past or how she arrived, she is subjected to a daily routine overseen by Supervisor Y, who administers a new dose and asks the same three questions. As Subject X begins to question the nature of the trial and her role within it, the play opens into a broader ethical dilemma, forcing her to confront a stark question: what does survival mean, and at what cost? Rory Clarke’s set design is a particular strength. The stark, clinical environment - white walls, plastic curtain strips, and an ever-watchful CCTV camera - feels both controlled and quietly oppressive, effectively immersing the audience in Subject X’s confinement. Costume design is similarly assured: Subject X’s attire strikes a careful balance between futuristic and functional, while Supervisor Y’s lab coat and bespectacled appearance evoke a familiar archetype of the scatty scientist. Macsen Brown delivers a standout performance as Supervisor Y, combining affable charm with an endearingly bumbling quality - a polished Hugh Grant rom-com persona with echoes of an over-eager holiday rep. He navigates the script’s tonal shifts with precision, allowing both its humour and its darker implications to land. Freya Popplewell gives a confident performance as Subject X, charting a clear emotional trajectory from vulnerability to suspicion, and ultimately to a more complex, morally ambiguous position. Mercy Brewer’s debut script presents an intriguing premise but is hindered by its execution. Dialogue is frequently weighed down by exposition and dense clinical language, slowing the pace and diluting tension. Key ideas are over-explained beyond necessity. A tighter edit, and greater trust in the audience’s ability to follow the narrative, would significantly sharpen the pacing and impact. TR[IA]L’s central concern - anxieties surrounding the ethics of artificial intelligence, particularly the implications of sentience and self-preservation - is timely. However, its central argument - that an AI choosing its own survival as inherently problematic - feels underdeveloped. The play stops short of fully interrogating the moral complexity of this position, instead, instead presenting it in broad strokes. In a cultural moment rich with debate around AI’s potential risks and benefits, there is a missed opportunity to explore the subject with greater nuance and depth. TR[IA]L is a thoughtfully constructed production with strong design and performances, but its thematic exploration remains surface-level, leaving it feeling more suggestive than provocative. Box Office: https://www.whitebeartheatre.co.uk/whatson/tr%5Bia%5Dl

“Pulls no punches in exploring a difficult, painful issue." ★★★ Sarah and David, a young couple in love, both have stressful jobs; she’s a commercial writer and he’s a primary school teacher. After a romantic proposal, a year into their relationship, complete with flowers, Prosecco, a bended knee and loving dance. Sarah feels like, “the luckiest girl in the world”. Her fiance even responds positively to the unplanned pregnancy. David, played by Callum McGregor, is charming, charismatic and polite, quite a catch for Sarah who likens herself to Princess Fiona in Shrek and is played by writer Phoenix Benham. Their friends are excited by the news - Sarah is the first in their circle to tie the knot and as wedding plans ensue, there is mounting pressure within the relationship and David’s job. Strangely enough, we hear nothing else about Sarah’s job after the opening scene. The tricky thing about knowing exactly what a play is about before you see it, this is loudly promoted as a domestic abuse play, is there are no surprises. The themes, written large in the marketing material and the initial audio voiceover of necessary trigger warnings, remove any uncertainty at all what you're in for. As David’s behaviour turns from reasonable to unreasonable and from protective to controlling, the audience become complicit bystanders, as the cycle of isolation, manipulation, coercion and physical violence unfolds. Based on a true story, this is a realistic portrayal of how trust is eroded and abusers flourish in secret and silence. The responses of their friends, a demonstrative tight circle, to what’s going on are to deny and rationalise. There’s endless banter with the bros and plenty of giggling with the girls and with a cast of 8, the gang of pals bring amusing improvised dialogue and great energy to the heavy emotional space this subject necessitates. Michael, a droll cynic, is engagingly performed by Fin Phoenix. He is Sarah’s best friend and comes closest to seeing what's going on and confronting the situation. His mum was a victim of domestic abuse so his radar is more attuned to the signs. Kelly (Esme Pembury Smith) also senses something awry; her friend has become more absent and closed off but she too turns a blind eye and ultimately, both rationalise away their dark suspicions. YOU WON”T HELP ME, gives plenty of space for the audience to witness the unfurling of David’s true nature, his insecurities and mounting threats as Sarah, bewildered and shocked, is caught on the back foot and proceeds to explain, forgive, resist and retreat. At two hours with an interval, this is a long production, composed of many short scenes with clunky transitions. There’s lots of shuffling on and off stage which reminds us we’re watching a play and break moments of emotion. This is a structural issue, not a narrative one which sets up the story and builds tension well. Stylistically, there's a thread of breaking the fourth wall at certain points: the action freezes and Sarah addresses the audience directly with present-tense exposition, just in case anyone missed something. This device could be used more creatively to introduce a counter narrative or future voice but is used generally to state something evident in the action. There’s a clever scene that explores power dynamics between a female and male police officer. DI Peters (Johnny Mark) has bought David’s version entirely that she ‘likes it rough’ DI Harding by contrast, a female officer (Samantha ‘O’ Connor) is more suspicious and empathetic but she is shut this down with a condescending attitude. This interesting inclusion illustrates that institutionalised misogyny and power imbalance happen in the real world, not just the online manosphere. According to a recent survey, over 1.4 million women experience domestic abuse every year in the UK. YOU WON’T HELP ME - pulls no punches - no irony intended - in dramatising and exploring this difficult, painful issue that often happens within relationships and behind closed doors. Working alongside Women’s Aid and the ManKind initiative, Distorted Rebel Productions hope to raise awareness and encourage those who suspect someone is being abused, to speak out and to not be that person who did nothing. Box Office https://unrestrictedview.co.uk/events/you-wont-help-me

‘In a world that does everything to keep them apart, their attraction and need for each other never dies, and the chemistry between these two carry the play till the end.’ ★★★★ Jack and Louise live in different worlds, at opposite sides of the United States, in the middle of World War II. Jack, a military doctor stationed in Oregon and Louise, an aspiring musical theatre actress living in New York. Whilst their realities couldn’t be further apart, they start exchanging letters, hopeful to be able to meet in a near future. The show is solely based on their letter exchanges, that slowly blends into being conversations. Their obvious affection for each other quickly grows despite their distance. ‘Sometimes I want to be in a show so much I want to cry about it. Do you ever feel like that about anything?’ Louise asks timidly, scared to reveal too much of herself. ‘I guess I’m angry at the war’ Jack replies, trying to keep up with her relentless energy. Their relationship feels so tangible yet so fragile – what if suddenly one of them stops writing? What if they meet other people? And as Louise’s Broadway dreams start to come true, and Jack suffers the consequences of the escalating war, will they ever meet? Both parts are splendidly casted. Eva Feiler portrays Louise beautifully, a young woman fighting for her dreams, throwing herself playfully and whole-heartedly into everything that comes her way. Preston Nyman as Jack, completely perfects the pair: he is sweet, kind and reserved, and his passion for everything that Louise does is all the more touching. In a world that does everything to keep them apart, their attraction and need for each other never dies, and the chemistry between these two carry the play till the end. The set recreates realistically both Jack and Louise’s worlds on each side of the stage. While the show feels quite static, especially during the first part of the play, the audience stays captivated and engaged in their unexpected love story. The pairing of awarded playwright Ken Ludwig and acclaimed director Simon Reade works its magic, creating a piece full of light-heartedness and humour, whilst delving into the absurdity and cruelty of the war. Refreshing, amusing and moving, ‘Dear Jack, Dear Louise’ brings hope and love to a world fractured by war where everything feels impossible. Dear Jack, Dear Louise by Ken Ludwig, Directed by Simon Reade Arcola Theatre 2 April – 2 May 2026 BOX OFFICE https://www.arcolatheatre.com/event/dear-jack-dear-louise/ Photography: Alex Brenner

'dynamic, entertaining, enlightening' ★★★★ Latin Americans are one of the fastest growing migrant groups in London, especially in Southwark and Lambeth and specifically, areas like the Elephant & Castle. With an estimated population of 145,000, the precise figure is not known due to the lack of a Latin American tick box in data monitoring. This below the radar invisibility/identity was one of the key creative impetuses for the development of My Uncle is Not Pablo Escobar which combines social commentary with cabaret and cartoon capers. If you missed this dynamic, sold out production in 2023, it’s back in the hood. The Hale, an independent arts producer, and Lambeth’s Brixton House present a new run - and are putting their money where their mouth is, by offering limited £5 tickets to those from the Latinx community. Co-created by Valentina Andrade, Elizabeth Alvarado, Lucy Wray, Tommy Ross-Williams and Joana Nastari, it’s 90 riotous minutes of performing resistance, subverting stereotypes and challenging norms. My Uncle is Not Pablo Escobar , is rooted in the lives and experiences of writers Valentina Andrade and Elizabeth Alvarado whose conversations and musings we hear as voiceovers. It’s a multi-layered hybrid piece: part play, part song and dance, part interactive games. It kicks off with some hard core Latinx rap and voguing from the kick-ass cast who guide audiences through the conflicting territory of what it means to be Latinx, London-based, female or non-binary and straddling two cultures. Alejandra (played by Yanexi Enriquez) is a hard-working A-Level student who hopes to get into Cambridge. Feisty big sister Catalina (Lorena Andrea) is an investigative journalist from Chile and on a case. Cute and kooky Lucia (Cecilia Alfonso-Eaton) is a student activist, demon coder and runs a queer club night called My Uncle is Not Pablo Escobar while Honey (Nathaly Sabino) is in charge of a gang of Latinx cleaners in a City based bank - one that happens to be laundering money from Columbian drug cartels. The premise: a group of Latinx office cleaners rumble and expose the bad guys - is all a bit daft - although HSBC did launder $881 million dollars from Colombian and Mexican drug cartels between 2006 and 2010. Tonally, it veers around a bit from political commentary to vigilante comedy thriller. The short, choppy, scenes are ironically, a little drawn out although the cabaret and quiz parts are joyful and entirely absorbing. The tri-lingual subtitles—English, Spanish and Portuguese—projected above the performers were difficult to read and slightly distracting, though the idea was worthy in principle. While the story plays out like the squares in a cartoon strip, the personality of the performers and heart of the show translates into feel good dances, surreal performances and songs that range from the raunchy to sweet. The winner of a 2024 OFFIES Special Recognition Award for Representation, My Uncle is Not Pablo Escobar adds up to more than the sum of its parts. It is a rewarding, enlightening, and entertaining show, offering a welcome blast of positive, feel-good, can-do energy - something we could all use right now. Listings information 7 Apr – 3 May Brixton House , 385 Coldharbour Lane, Brixton, London SW9 8GL BOX OFFICE Company information Writers Elizabeth Alvarado, Valentina Andrade, Tommy Ross-Williams, Lucy Wray Co-creators Elizabeth Alvarado, Valentina Andrade, Joana Nastari, Tommy Ross-Williams, Lucy Wray Dramaturg Joana Nastari Directors Tommy Ross-Williams, Lucy Wray Showrunner Tommy Ross-Williams Producer Dais Hale, The Hale Associate Producer Sean Brooks, The Hale PA & support worker Riss Obolensky, The Hale Production manager Daniel Basnett Community organising and festival production Valentina Andrade Choreography Myron Birch Lighting design Roberto Esquenazi Alkabes Set and costume design Tomás Palmer Originating sound design Xavier Velastín Production manager Daniel Steward Translation Elizabeth Alvarado & Lucy Wray (Spanish), Victor Esses (Portuguese) Video design & captions Rachel Sampley Cast Alejandra Yanexi Enriquez Lucia Cecilia Alfonso-Eaton Catalina Lorena Andrea Honey Nathaly Sabino Photo credit Lucy Le Brocq of Kaleidoshoots

“With a punchy new translation by Novelles and directed by Madeleine Rich, Love Letters to Stalin feels especially resonant in these times.” ★★★ ½ We live in dark times when it can be frightening just turning on the news – barely sane politicians, economic catastrophes, and increasing restrictions on protest, even in democracies. And what is the role of art during these times? The turbulent twentieth century might act as a guide, and it is an apt moment to revive Love Letters to Stalin. Written by Spanish Playwright Juan Maydrga, who grew up under Franco’s dictatorship, the play is set during Stalin’s terror in the Soviet Union during the late 1920s/early 1930s. In a Moscow apartment we find successful real-life playwright Mikhail Bulgakov, who is most well-known for the posthumously published The Master and Margarita, suddenly finding offers of work drying up and his existing work banned, desperate to know how to proceed. Baris Apaydin plays Bulgakov with a wonderful determination and nervous energy. His wife Elena, played by Klaudia Novelles (who also translates), grounds Bulgakov. In the play’s most memorable scenes, Bulgakov writes letters to Stalin pleading his case, a dangerous thing to do, whilst Elena roleplays Stalin offering a critique of the letters, with Novelles adding great humour to the scenario, but with the underlying fear they are standing on the precipice. But as Bulgakov descends into nervous exhaustion Stalin (Luca Saraceni-Gunner) himself appears before him. Offering whimsical advice and gentle challenge, Stalin’s increased presence is indicative of Bulgakov’s deteriorating state of mind. With a punchy new translation by Novelles and directed by Madeleine Rich, Love Letters to Stalin feels especially resonant in these times. Although Maydrga’s script is perhaps a little long and repetitive toward the end, Rich’s production is taut and pacy, and the design (Amelia Feeney) and lighting (Brian Rudnicki) is imaginative. It is so refreshing to see an up-and-coming theatre company (Through Line) producing foreign language works rarely seen in London in new translations, especially such political works. In an era where writers remain persecuted (see Amnesty International’s campaigns) and speaking out against genocides can still lose artists work in Western Democracies, Love Letters to Stalin feels as pertinent as ever. LOVE LETTERS TO STALIN by Juan Maydrga translated by Klaudia Novelles, directed by Madeleine Rich, Produced by Through Line Playing at the Golden Goose theatre until 11 April: https://www.goldengoosetheatre.co.uk/

“At its strongest, the tension finally crystallises into something genuinely menacing.” ★★½ MACKEREL THURSDAY, the third play by Malcolm Webb, is an ambitious foray into Theatre of the Absurd, with clear echoes of Harold Pinter and Samuel Beckett. Set in a claustrophobic flat governed by a lengthy list of rules dubbed the “constitution,” it explores control, submission, dependence, and resistance. Nancy (Webb) presides with unnerving authority, while George (Christopher Cox) and Cam (Aoife Moss) begin to push against his rigid system, ostensibly in place to keep them safe. As the balance shifts, so too does Nancy’s grip, steering the trio toward a tragic conclusion. The confined setting and strict rules create a world that feels both controlled and precarious. Much of the play operates at a heightened pitch, sustaining a constant pressure that, while effective, becomes one-note. In Absurdist work, tension often derives from contrast - silence, repetition, and tonal shifts - so greater variation here would give the piece more shape and make its escalation more impactful. Hints of backstory, particularly around Cam and the origins of the “constitution,” are sparse but intriguing. However, one passage of exposition - delivered while Cam shoots at imaginary mice with her hand as a gun - feels overt and slightly affected. Christopher Cox anchors the production with a grounded, compelling performance, while Aoife Moss captures Cam’s vulnerability with conviction. Webb establishes Nancy’s dominance clearly, though the performance leans heavily on volume and intensity, with limited variation. Aside from a moment of softness when Cam threatens to leave, this lack of nuance flattens the character’s dynamic and makes the central relationships harder to fully invest in. The design is simple but effective: a domestic set with a misdemeanour chart reinforces the sense of control, while stark lighting and intrusive sound design create an off-kilter atmosphere. Under Alec Osborne’s assured direction, the action remains fluid throughout. MACKEREL THURSDAY is at its strongest in its final moments, where shifting power dynamics introduce a sharper unpredictability and genuine menace, and the tension finally crystallises. The extended running time also works against the piece. At 90 minutes, the sustained intensity begins to wane, with limited development beyond repeated antagonism between the central characters. A tighter structure - closer to an hour - would sharpen the tension and better sustain audience engagement. An ambitious piece with a compelling conceptual foundation, MACKEREL THURSDAY shows promise. With greater tonal variation, a more nuanced characterisation of Nancy, and a tighter structure, it could fully realise its potential. Instagram @agentsofchaostheatre

‘Alexa, you still got it!?’ Nikol Kollars reminds us to give our mums a ring. ★★★★ What do you get when you cross artificial intelligence, a woman grieving her mother, and a film actress who can whip out a good impression at the blink of an eye? It’s the second run of Nikol Kollars’ monodrama, and though the stage may be small, a large splash of audience tears is met with consistent giggles that echo through The Circle and Star Theatre in Hampstead. Nikol Kollars with her show Fickle Euology is our very own Standing Ovation Award winner for Best Solo Performance. Tweaks have been made: the ending doesn’t give you a second to grab your hanky, projections and handcrafted lights add new symbols of hope throughout, and Kollars cuts the chaff, refining the piece into something new from an old show. The plot is simple. Ann prepares the eulogy for her mother’s celebration of life, a more personalised yet joyous event than your average funeral, complete with potlucks, memories, and playlists. Kollars shapes the narrative with a clever understanding of theatre’s current preference for strong visuals, impersonating a lawyer, a Trump enthusiast, and a magician to explore her grief in all its complexities before our eyes. Lighting and sound, curated by the tech wizards up in the box to our right, aid every twist or turn. Alexa, and yes, I do mean the AI voice assistant, acts as therapist, interference, and nosy meddler while Ann prepares the food before friends and family arrive. The static, automated, clunky voice, can be found spouting “You got it!” or “This is not part of the Eulogy simulation,” and she won’t even let the grieving Kollors swear as all the cooking goes wrong. For the party. The technological innovation of this show doesn’t stop there. Near the end, a colossal projection of Kollars’ mother appears, speaking to the audience and teasing us with the secret ingredient in one of her famous recipes—a dish that stirred envy in the town where Kollars grew up. If the show reminds us of anything, it calls upon us to pick up the phone, stop racing around the city at crazy speeds, and give our mums a ring. It’s a slow-cooked love story that glimmers with joy, burning bright through the tears that slide down your face. Read our feature ' Alexa Help Me to Grieve: the woman using AI in an award-winning show about losing her mum to COVID.' here FICKLE EULOGY by Nikol Kollars at The Circle and Star Theatre, Hampstead 7 – 12 April 2026 BOX OFFICE https://www.tickettailor.com/events/circleandstar/2071529