Reviews

“Three years after its Edinburgh debut, this three-hander once again attempts to bring the pair back to life with a personal touch” ★★ Lights fade on Winston Churchill and David Lloyd George posing together in shapes that you can still find in bronze just outside of the Houses of Parliament. Yet three years after its Edinburgh debut, this three-hander falls flat when bringing the pair back to life. Written by none other than Robert Lloyd George, great-grandson of Welsh prime minister David, the script is informed by previously unseen family documents. But despite his well received family biography named Winston and David: How a Friendship Changed History and a decent fringe run a few years ago, the piece fails to sparkle. Instead, Winston’s rise to power and David’s fall from it becomes a list of historical events which only occasionally spotlight what bound these two together as friends. During an obituary tribute to the House of Commons in March 1945, Winston Churchill named David Lloyd George, “the greatest Welshman which that unconquerable race has produced since the age of the Tudors.” Much time is spent showing how the respect between these two men grew in this play and yet, too long a time is spent merely affirming Churchill’s statement. Very rarely and, usually through the incredibly short speech of the play’s female characters, do we see the Welsh prime minister morally questioned. The lack of perspective, especially female perspective, serves as a central problem. The script had ample chance to portray David Lloyd’s George’s secretary, then mistress and finally, second wife, as more than a plot device pushing the narrative forward. You cannot introduce the women surrounding great political actors by merely giving them the role of chorus. Only when Frances (David Lloyd George’s mistress) refuses to marry after becoming pregnant does the Welsh PM finally take shape in front of our eyes. David Lloyd George was both the man who would suggest his mistress remarry to cover up a potential child but also the politician who so well advocated for the votes of women. The acting is also unbalanced. Peter Swales quickly becomes the ‘bull dog’ in Churchill we have come to know so well and invites us into the contradicting obsessions — namely painting, warring and drinking — to great effect. Joseph Emms’ Lloyd George, more cartoonish and less convincing, struggles to make himself properly known to the audience. Alexandra Donnachie switches at pace between female characters but never really loses the austere look of David Lloyd George’s mistress. Theatre scripts can always work as active, full-bodied, history lessons and yet, the balance between both must be maintained if a show doesn’t want to feel like a mere roll call of important dates. But whilst the work creates the atmosphere of the commons and often of war, the play often reveals its reliance upon structure, history and dates. What clearly worked in Robert Lloyd George’s family biography in 2005, now struggles to settle with a stage beneath its feet. There’s too much historical event dropping and not enough drama that makes these political figures into theatrical characters. One only has to take note of the simple arrangement of history through this piece by hearing how many times “Order, Order”, can be heard through the speakers BOX OFFICE https://www.tabard.org.uk/production/winston-and-david-26 Directed by Nick Hennegan

‘The play reaches its climax with a genuinely shocking twist’ ★★★ A travelling salesman in his fifties and a glamorous teenage social media influencer may at first appear to have little in common. However, Victor and Malika share one key attribute: they both struggle to move on from previous relationships, and are haunted by the ghosts of their respective pasts. Significant Other explores the ways in which old flames are constantly re-ignited, pervading everyday life and becoming impossible to ignore. The narrative follows the separate journeys of Malika and Victor as they attempt to navigate their lives after the demise of their respective relationships. Malika’s ex-boyfriend begins to stalk her obsessively after their relationship ends, and Victor is troubled by the presence of his ex-wife in seemingly implausible situations. The play allows for some ambiguity around whether all of these appearances are tangible, or if something more metaphysical is taking place, giving the performance an unsettling undertone that effectively portrays the stranglehold of the past on the present. These two characters are also similar in their propensity for egotism. Victor’s delusion that he deserves to win every prize at his corporate annual awards, and Malika’s obsession with documenting every mundane aspect of her daily life at stage school to her Instagram followers creates an amusing parallel between the two. Bold, self-concerned and slightly ditzy in comparison to her aspiring medic friend Sophia, the social-media obsessed Malika has the potential to come across as unlikeable. However, Christie Fewry plays her with so much heart that it is impossible not to root for her, as she struggles to balance schoolwork, her relationships and her all-consuming dreams of becoming a star. The friendship between the two feels genuine, and with her ex-boyfriend casting such a sinister shadow, it feels only right that Malika has a loyal compatriot to guide her through post-break-up life. Writing young people can often be challenging due to the ever-changing nature of their idiolect, but playwright Shireen Shaikh manages to effectively capture the speech patterns of contemporary teenagers, allowing the two characters to feel all the more authentic. In contrast, the romantic relationships in Significant Other feel a little less developed. The dynamic between Victor and his ex-wife is an interesting insight into the resentment that can grow between former lovers. The audience are offered glimpses into their idyllic past of picnics and dancing by moonlight, building a picture of their bygone romance. However, some aspects of this feel a little undercooked; in particular, their relationship to their child and how this drove a wedge between them, which feels as though it could benefit from deeper exploration, due to the complex subject matter. Similarly, the relationship between Malika and her ex-boyfriend creates enough sinister tension to propel the play forwards, but also feels as if some key aspects of how the toxicity of the relationship really took hold are missing from the story. The performance is sprinkled with lots of genuinely very funny moments, most notably the visual gags that arise from Victor’s bizarre relationship with a life-sized doll, which functions as a stand-in for his more opinionated ex-wife. But underneath the comedy is the deep sadness of a man who struggles to be truly alone once his relationship has dissipated, which is balanced masterfully by actor Kit Smith. The frequent switches between characters played by the same actors, and jumps in the chronology of the story are a little hard to follow at times, although a lot of the unclear details of the plot do become apparent by the ending. The play reaches its climax with a genuinely shocking twist (evoking actual gasps from the audience) and feels like a satisfying culmination of the tension that builds up until that point. Despite its issues with characterisation and structuring, the play is still an engaging, and poignant exploration of past relationships, and how they continue to torment the present. Significant Other is on at the Brockley Jack Studio Theatre from Tuesday 18 – Saturday 29 August 2026 at 7.30 pm Box Office https://brockleyjack.co.uk/ Cast, Crew and Production Victor: Kit Smith Malika: Christie Fewry Sophia: Leila McCalla The Woman/Receptionist/Reporter: Kate Russell-Smith The Boy/Waiter/Jerome: Bryan Seisay Voice of Awards: Host Leila McCalla Voice of Gary: Bryan Seisay Voice of Judge: Kate Russell-Smith Written by Shireen Shaikh Presented by Thisisnow Productions Director: Julia Stubbs Set & Costume: Designer Willoughby Brow Lighting Designer: Ben Batdorff Technical Assistant & Operator: Danny Turner Design Assistant: Minna Keenan PR & Photography: Grey Swan

‘heavy topics seamlessly incorporated into a lightweight delivery; laugh out loud, energetic and a lot of fun.’ ★★★★ Three friends Michelle, Denny and Sebastian have set up a business with a new take on counselling. Women can come and role play their issues with men. Michelle is the founder and facilitates the sessions with ‘good guy’ Denny and ‘bad guy’ Sebastian. The sessions cover a number of contemporary issues: Cass has daddy issues, Joan keep being overlooked for promotion, Lucy is an influencer who isn’t getting her man and Owen has mild incel issues and thinks he might have more success if he was gay. As the story progresses some of the company’s ethical structures are exposed, mainly due to the blossoming romance between client and provider. Michelle tries to rein it in without success, and then she confesses her own shortcomings which results in the business folding. Writer L. T. Hewitt also plays Denny whose persona grows during the show. The character is a little zany but quite lovable and this is one of the strengths of the play. All the characters are likeable and have warmth, so not likely to put audience members on high alert considering the sensitive issues being raised. The heavy topics are seamlessly incorporated into a lightweight delivery. It is all wrapped up in a lot of fun with laugh out loud lines and scenarios. The overriding theme suggests that an obsession with notching up achievements in life, is counter-productive to our well- being. Chill out and enjoy time with friends is something that audiences might take away from the show. All the performances work well, with Calum Goring playing unloved Owen on a knife edge between sanity and insanity with excruciating awkwardness. He’s playing in counterpoint to Brontë Beckett in the role of self confident influencer Lucy, sex starved and available for love. It’s an obvious pairing, but this is comedy, so nothing runs smoothly until the very end when the various story lines in the play are tied up in a feel good resolution. All the actors play their roles well, but Brontë Beckett is a stand out, effortlessly and believably giving a picture of an influencer who spends more time on line rather than with people, and yet, she is surprised by her lack of success in relationships. Beckett throws herself into the role with the knack of knowing how far to push it, grounding her character in truth, allowing her character flaws to show through along with a level of vulnerability. A little niggle here, some of the actors go a little over the top and lose the credibility of their characters. Director Heather Collier does a terrific job considering the breadth of the themes, and story lines, but L. T. Hewitt’s script is a gift to comedy. It’s the perfect show for the fringe, without any need for expensive sets, sound or lighting or costume design. These were all achieved nicely at a basic level, and sometimes the most fun can be had in a room with a great script and a cast who are able to play comedy. Unseen Theatre presents THE FAKE MAN INSTITUTE 11th to 22nd August The Golden Goose, London, SE5 0RR BOX OFFICE https://www.trybooking.com/uk/events/landing/118177 Cast: Michelle – Rachel Greenwood Denny – L. T. Hewitt Sebastian – Charlie Wright Cass – Sadi Masego Lucy – Brontë Beckett Owen – Calum Goring Joan – Audrey Kong Crew: Writer: L. T. Hewitt Director: Heather Collier Producers: Heather Collier and L. T. Hewitt Tech: Mig Dulevicius Set design: Heather Collier and L. T. Hewitt Assistant Director: Jimmy Morgan

“Deeply satisfying, camp, and somehow cosy” ★★★★ ½ If you’ve ever wondered who that stranger is you sometimes see on the bus, or that guy who’s always sat in your local pub, then ‘I Pie With My Little Lie, Something Beginning With Murder’ is for you – because you’re about to find out who they could be. This fantastic solo comedy welcomes us into a local greasy spoon by the river, where we unwrap the hidden inner lives of an unassuming regular crowd. With a brilliant Mark Lyminster in all the roles, we’re served a straightforward series of vignettes linked together by our weary server-host’s narration. It’s not necessarily the recipe that makes this solo show so special; it’s the cooking and raw ingredients, like a nice steak. The 60-minute piece is simple – but utterly engaging from start to finish. They’re just really good stories, told really well. We meet a transplantee with a shady family history, a vengeful quizzer, an uppity book club chair, a cottaging youth, all with one thing in common: they have in one way or another committed murder in the most domestic and unshowy of ways. The sheer ordinariness of these individuals bears the twinkly darkness of some of Roald Dahl’s best adult creations. And like that literary master, Lyminster makes use of whimsical wordplay throughout, with an alliterative motif appearing like the Grim Reaper to signal death is on the way. It feels as though these irresistibly likeable killers inhabit a parallel world, reflecting back our own, where complicated evil makes us laugh and the everyday becomes macabre. It’s a madcap, random idea that never tries too hard. Not only is this a quality script that I think would make an equally good read, but Lyminster is a second-to-none comedian, conjuring a cast of colourful characters with the warm and cheeky charm of Victoria Wood. His delivery is terrific, folding the audience into laughter with a single glance. And he’s clearly a fantastic actor, able to create such double-take realism in his caricatures that once or twice I thought our protagonist’s limp was a sign that he’d actually injured himself during the performance – then it would effortlessly disappear. With the donning of a hat or a pair of glasses, Lyminster dissolves into his characters around the café without the need for gimmicks; he barely changes but somehow changes completely; his deployment of the occasional accent is refined for maximum comedic effect. This is a confident and capable performer. Overall, I Pie, is a rare gem: deeply satisfying, camp, and somehow cosy. Completely non-threatening despite all the death. Lyminster himself is gold and the script is stellar, a gift for any actor. The only critique is that the show could possibly be elevated even further with a co-writer, just to help polish off some of the lines. Lyminster’s delivery of even the weaker moments is excellent, so I reckon still greater heights could be achieved. But that doesn’t diminish the enjoyment of it as it is. If you’re hungry for a good laugh, find a performance of I Pie, or anything featuring Mark Lyminster for that matter. I know I will: because I could definitely do with another slice. I Pie With My Little Lie, Something Beginning With Murder Hen & Chickens Theatre, 15 & 16 August 2026 Written & Performed by Mark Lyminster Directed by James Wren Produced by The Hatchery Reviewed by Alix Owen

‘tackles some important themes with sensitivity and humour’ ★★★ The obscurely named The Whisper Comes Before The Plant is a flat share dramedy about a young woman in an abusive relationship with her inner voice. Writer and performer Nia Braidford leads the cast as Faith, a relentlessly uptight 20-something looking for a lodger. Enter Timmy, with the aforementioned pot plant. He is sweary, outgoing, frequently shirtless and, Australian. In a hugely likeable performance from Louis Walwyn , his superhuman tolerance and compassion prove to be a much-needed antidote to Faith, who is gloomy in the extreme. But you can hardly blame her for that when she is haunted by a physical embodiment of some dark corner of her own psyche or past, who spouts a torrent of demands and abuse. As The Whisper, Sonny Pilgrem lends his resonant voice to a role strictly limited to a narrow range of emotion, and indeed, lines. Still, he cuts an imposing figure with a strong presence and suitably ghoulish air. The Whisper’s dynamic with Faith is a compelling idea and a rich opportunity for nuance and depth. Their relationship is the cornerstone of the story, and its development represents Faith’s character arc. However, that development rests entirely on Faith’s responses to The Whisper, while his lines remain repetitive and one-note. The plot also leaves something to be desired. There is a well-conceived and dramatic climax, but too much of the story is interpersonal and introspective, rather than arising out of any real action. Technical operator Iqbal Garewal makes fair use of the simple lighting equipment on offer to add dimension and colour to the serviceable set, and the sound design is atmospheric. The two elements come together in a montage-style transition in which a few weeks pass by in flashes. This standout sequence shows thoughtful work from debut director Wesley Bozonga . It is a brief foray into non-naturalism which I would have loved to see taken further, much like the part of The Whisper. The Whisper Comes Before The Plant tackles some important themes with sensitivity and humour, and showcases promising creatives. With an hour to spend on live theatre in a fringe setting, you could certainly do a lot worse. The Whisper Comes Before The Plant by Nia Braidford, directed by Wesley Walwyn at The Hen & Chickens Theatre 13 – 16 August 2026 Part of Camden Fringe Instagram therainbowroomproductions

‘A magnetic solo performance that commands total attention.’ ★★★★ The Death of Hundun centres on a young female protagonist whose soul is symbolically carved four times, laying bare her deepest fears and her darkest struggles with bipolar disorder. This deeply moving journey navigates the fine line between self-destruction and rebirth. By blending reason with chaos, the performance challenges the audience to experience the powerful collision between human emotion, philosophy, and the physical body. The story is inspired by the classic text Zhuangzi’s fable of Hundun, a legendary faceless creature in Chinese mythology that personifies primordial chaos, unformed energy and disorder. The creature was rewarded for its hospitality towards two rulers by being offered sensory orifices, but it died after the seventh hole was carved into its body. An illustration that trying to force artificial order into Chaos (Hundun) can destroy its natural essence. The small rectangular black box theatre was cleverly transformed into a circular stage, creative works of the set designer Yixuan Wang. Neon lights outlined the borders of the stage and strikingly white coloured furniture was scattered on the floor with one mattress leaning against the black backdrop. The performer’s dramatic graceful physical movement maximizes the use of the restrained stage space, offering the audience a glimpse of her life and her quest for acceptance in her relationships, her work life, connections with her family members and seeking breathing space through trips to the seaside. When Wandi Liu starts laying the furniture sideways on the floor and dances over and around them on the floor, it was a delight to realise that we, as audience, were being presented with a ‘bird eye’s view’ of her exceptional physical performance. One drawback. The 60-minute monologue is entirely delivered in Chinese Mandarin, with English subtitles projected on the black fabric curtains backdrop. The production's heavy focus on physical theatre magnified the difficulty and challenge for non-Chinese speakers attempting to follow subtitles simultaneously in order to make sense of the narrative. Liu delivered a magnetic solo performance that commands total attention. A beautifully executed physical theatre one-woman emotional monologue, co-written by playwright Roccia Zhang, and performed by actor-director and co-writer Wandi Liu under the movement direction of Lettie Liuby with the assistance of a large creative and production team is being staged for the Camden Fringe and the Edinburgh Fringe. Camden Fringe Festival at Etcetera Theatre 12 – 14 August Edinburgh Festival Fringe at Greenside Theatre 24 – 29 August daily at 11:25 AM BOX OFFICE https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/the-death-of-hundun Team Members Director: Wandi Liu Producer: Qiaoran Li, Xiaoyu Wang Playwright: Roccia Zhang, Wandi Liu Performer: Wandi Liu Executive Producer: Jiaxin Du Co-Director: Yi Wang Acting Coach: Yudun Wang Dramaturg: Yi Wang Artistic Supervisor: Jiawen Chen Movement Director: Lettie Liu Set Designer: Yixuan Wang Lighting Designer and Operator: Baysalt Composer, Sound Designer and Operator: Ganey Zhang Marketing Manager and Assistant Producer: Rulin Ma Stage Manager: Linger Wen Photographer: Peter, Wendy

‘A delightfully holistic experience and the music lingers on in the mind.’ ★★★★ An aspiring writer, Rudolfo, falls in love with a young woman, the gentle Mimi, only to find out that she is very ill. They are both so young and struggling with poverty, how can he cope with this? This is the devastating story of La bohème. The pair are contrasted with another couple, Rudolfo’s friend and painter, Marcello and the extravagant Musetta. In a neat reversal, the story focuses on bohemian culture, making Mini the outsider. This Summer, WATERPERRY OPERA FESTIVAL, founded in 2017, comes under the new leadership of Artistic Director and CEO John Savournin. LPT magazine first met Savournin and his company Charles Court Opera at King’s Head Theatre London (in the days when it was a humble pub theatre). With Savournin’s exquisite sensibilities, we can expect further great things from this festival and its commitment to nurturing the next generation of artists while widening access to opera. The season showcases two operas, performed in English: Donizetti's The Elixir of Love and Puccini's La bohème. Donizetti's comedy The Elixir of Love is presented in partnership with Savournin’s award-winning Charles Court Opera, and Puccini’s La Boheme is presented by Waterperry Opera Festival Orchestra. Using the stunning backdrop of Waterperry House and Gardens, the opera is shown on two levels with two stages, an orchestra ‘pit’ and a winding staircase rising to a balcony. With performers also arriving from the gardens, the available expanse is used to much advantage. The story now updated to 1939, is set here at Waterperry House, where Mimi is a gardener. If the first half of the opera has the feel of a low-budget production, the real enchantment begins after the interval, at nightfall with magical lighting effects, the transformation is worth the wait. In the glare of the natural light, the curtains of both stages are not very attractive and do not open without a little tug. The orchestra is half hidden by screens which seems a strange choice until they are revealed in all their splendour when audiences return from the break. If the earlier party scene of the bohemians and their unconventional lifestyle has varying success, then the later scenes of Mimi dying are really powerful. The earlier aria of ‘Your Tiny hand is Frozen’ is later cleverly emphasised when Musetta walks down the grand staircase, sporting a brand-new pair of red leather gloves whilst Mimi is dying. It makes absolute sense when Musetta attempts to find money to engage a doctor, and gives Mimi a pair of mittens. Of course, we all know that it is all too little, too late. The lighting really does charm and immediately sets the scene for a very emotive second half, and the music is really stunning. It is worth having played down the first half to fully appreciate the romance and power of Puccini’s memorable music. It stays in the mind long after the performance has ended, exactly as it should. The performances that really shine on the night include Faryl Smith as Mimi and Ceferina Penny as Musetta. Robert Forrest and Patrick Dow as Rudolfo and Marcello respectively, also impress with their duet. Also, praise for Oskar McCarthy who brings a lot of fun to his role as the despised Benoit (the property owner and landlord – does nothing change). It really is an holistic experience, with many festival goers taking advantage of the tea rooms, and the gardens. Some brought picnics and others opted to take advantage of the restaurant marque. With an interval of one hour and fifteen minutes there is sufficient time to dine midway through the opera, relax and enjoy the whole event making it a rather special occasion. LA BOHÈME at Waterperry 8 - 15 August 2026 BOX OFFICE https://www.waterperryoperafestival.co.uk/2026-la-boheme THE ELIXIR OF LOVE at Waterperry has ended but performances of this opera are available at Wilton’s Music Hall in London 8 – 19 September, box office https://wiltons.org.uk/whats-on/the-elixir-of-love/ CAST Rodolfo: Robert Forrest Mimi: Faryl Smith Marcello: Patrick Dow Musetta: Ceferina Penny Schaunard: Owain Rowlands Colline: Alaric Green Benoit: Oskar McCarthy YOUNG ARTIST CHORUS Soprano: Lucy Breakwell Soprano: Tia Radix-Callixte Mezzo Soprano: Cerys Herbert-Stott Tenor: Tom Law Baritone: Will Jowett ARTISTIC & PRODUCTION Conductor: Bertie Baigent Director: Ruth Knight Set & Costume Designer: Jennifer Gregory Lighting Designer: Ben Pickersgill Assistant Set Designer: Hannah Kuchar Movement Director: Taira Foo Young Artist Assistant Director: Anne Sutton Head of Music: Ashley Beauchamp Répétiteur: George Ireland / Aleksandra Myslek Production Manager: Sean Laing Associate Production Manager: Thomas J. Quine Stage Manager: Andrew Holton Deputy Stage Manager: Phoebe Francis Assistant Stage Manager: Emily Pettican Costume Supervisor: Jade Newman Turner Sound No.1: Nicolo Conti Sound No.2: Harvey Graham Photography by Julian Guidera

“The harmony of direction and movement is excellent” ★★★ Like Tchaikovsky himself, Child of Glass has an identity crisis – otherwise known as ‘a theatrical fusion of music, ballet and drama’. This near two-hour concert-cum-play-cum-monologue-cum-dance tells us the story of Pyotr Tchaikovsky from childhood to untimely death. It does this using a programme of his best pieces, a small cast of four, and a pianist. The premise is simple, but easy to disappoint. If nothing else, because that fusion means we don’t know what we’re seeing. More than one audience member clearly expected an opera, but got more of a biographical play, not particularly helped by the misnomer in this case of the venue, Opera Holland Park. And again, stunning though the venue is, the overriding feeling you get in the first few minutes is that this stage overwhelms the small, albeit ambitious, production. And as vibrant as Tchaikovsky’s music is, not even that can fill the cavernous space when played only on a shining grand piano, chiefly because it’s crying out for a string quartet accompaniment. Indeed, the orchestra pit sits tauntingly, smirkingly, empty throughout, full of thick electric snakes, those behind-the-scenes wires. The pianist, Jayson Gillham (also musical director), is of course incredible, and his subtle inclusion in the action (drinking when Pyotr drinks, coughing when he coughs) is a nice touch. He, along with our ballet soloist Teo Debreuil, is the real star of the show. But again – was I expecting this? No. It’s not billed as a piano recital – in fact the marketing material shows violinists in the background. It’s not exactly a dance either, though this is where it is strongest; and then the programme describes it as a play, but I’m not sure that works either. The harmony of direction and movement is excellent though: Tchaikovsky’s internal struggles with his sexuality soulfully play out in liquid limbs and lunges, scaling the full tonal spectrum. The man himself appears in the opening, dressed comically as the Grand Dame of the dance and progresses through rigidity to sensuality, while ballet soloist Teo Debreuil, plays his innermost desires embodied, slinks around him, pushing and pulling and tempting, becoming all the loves of his life. Matheson, as Tchaikovsky, is no dancer though; and while admittedly, neither was the real man, this for me ruins the illusion. No one can match Debreuil, but yet dance plays an important part. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, but it can’t be half and half of each. These dance sequences, by choreographer Stephen Wicks (who makes an amusing but underappreciated cameo towards the end of the production), are where the show most comes alive. A beautiful solo from Debreuil in the second act easily steals the show with its eye-catching shower of roses and infinitely elegant poses. It’s befitting of the huge stage and proves that the small size of the cast isn’t why Child of Glass doesn’t fill the space. It’s because it is spreading itself too thin. Same again for the other stand-out moment, a satisfyingly dramatic denouement of raging petals and tossed papers as Debreuil throws himself around the grand stage. But there aren’t any of these moments in Act One and far too few in Act Two. And here, like Pyotr’s lost loves, is its major missed opportunity. Perhaps instead of a fusion, we could have had a ballet, and then this might really have been something. Margaret Steinbach’s lighting though is also befitting of the stage: rich and lush and reminiscent of dreamy Mediterranean opera houses. And Agnes Sharp’s luxurious set and costumes also do the trick. Don’t get me wrong, it all looks the part. It doesn’t LOOK small, it FEELS small. Nonetheless, it still doesn’t know what it is by the end. One of the biggest flaws in my view could be alleviated by the simplest of rewording. ‘Child of Glass: The Life of Tchaikovsky’ makes more sense. Because that’s what it is. It’s a tiny but significant change. For the layman – and this is a perfectly accessible show that everyone can enjoy, so that shouldn’t hold it back – what are you booking when you’re booking ‘Tchaikovsky: Child of Glass’? Is it an original opera? Is it a dance? Is an opera written by Tchaikovsky? Is a concert? And I hazard a guess that the very last of these questions, if it occurs at all, would be ‘is it a play’? And the answer to all of them is kind of no. But that can be its strength if an audience expects it. As it is, I don’t think they did: one or two were even falling asleep… And you’re sort of left wondering when it’s going to start right up until the moment it ends. Now and then it makes sense – a dramatic monologue from Pyotr followed by a virtuoso performance from Gillham. But it doesn’t stick to this format. It becomes a dance. Then a drama. Now neither. The thing is, you can’t argue with Tchaikovsky. He’s a crowd pleaser and I could listen to him all day. But in Child of Glass, I ended up longing for the final note. Tchaikovsky Child of Glass 13-15 August 2026, 7:30pm Opera Holland Park (Ilchester Place, London W8 6LU) Tickets from £35: https://operahollandpark.com/productions/tchaikovsky-child-of-glass/ Creatives Writer/Director - Tama Matheson Music Director/Piano - Jayson Gillham Choreographer - Stephen Wicks Cast Tama Matheson Suzy Kohane Oliver Holland Téo Debreuil Reviewed by Alix Owen

 ‘Intelligent play, with very promising material.’ ★★★ ½ Gorgeous writing from Tej Panesar exploring human loneliness and the part that AI might play in the future. This is a well chosen debut production from Molonok Theatre Group and offers a new perspective on human’s interaction with humanoid robots. It is an intelligent play, which doesn’t tell us straight away that of the two characters in the play, one isn’t human. In a discussion about philosophy, the woman (Katherine Bristow) appears to have superior arguments, to the man (Gilles Guillain). All becomes clear when we are introduced to the fact that she is AI. The play begins with the man alone in his room, as he announces that he’s not sure that he exists. We know very early on that this is a French obsession with philosophy, but if anyone should wonder whether ‘nothing ever happens’, it certainly does. One of the best aspects of the early scenes, are the words attempting to describe the spaces ‘between’, the empty space, the lost spaces, that no one talks about. The man says that it ‘takes him 40 minutes to become a person in the morning’. Most of us can surely relate to that. He’s broken up with his partner and in discussion with AI, he comes to terms with his loneliness and is faced with the decision of whether he should act, rather than just accept that his companion will be non human. It’s more than one debate; one about human reliance on AI and one about how far we are willing to give up on relationships because they’re tough. The debate on AI reminds us that we have all created it, in more than the sense of technological achievement, but because it embodies all our social media posts and everything else keyed in by us online. There is a tendency to give AI human characteristics and this play also falls in that ‘trap’, which is a little disappointing, a little too easy, and also misleading but so much is right about this play. It isn’t only the writing which is refreshingly elegant. Director Nadia Khivrych has used a slower tempo giving particular emphasis to some areas of the play. Bristow as the humanoid robot looks perfectly natural, rather than robotic in any sense. It is in her apparent arguments, confidence and self-assurance that we see she isn’t the insecure mess that many humans are, and this superiority makes her believable as a non-human character. Guillain as the man is also pleasing in his role. It may take a few nights to settle into the performance it could become, which is a shame because this is Camden Fringe. Short runs are the norm. There are a few issues with clunky changes of scene. The dream sequence and the physical theatre section feel a little disjointed from the rest of the play. The soundscape is very promising but possibly may need extending (or not). A very promising debut from this Molonok Theatre Group offering something a little different. This piece could do very well indeed with more time to develop its full potential. LA FENÊTRE, Molonok Theatre Group, Playing at the Etcetera Theatre Part of Camden Fringe from 13–16 August. BOX OFFICE https://camdenfringe.com/events/la-fenetre/ Molonok Theatre Group instagram: https://www.instagram.com/molonok_theatre/