Reviews

"As fringe musicals go, this is among the best." ★★★★  A woman lies in a hospital bed on the eve of gender-affirming surgery, waiting to wake up as the person she has always known herself to be. But before Amanda can finally become herself, she looks back across the life that brought her here: childhood, adolescence, first love and crushes, family, marriage, parenthood, prejudice and, eventually, courage. This is Amanda – The Night Before Me, Rory Six's solo musical making its London and English-language debut at The Bridge House Theatre, with Divina de Campo (of RuPaul's Drag Race UK fame) becoming Amanda and the fourteen other people who have shaped her life. As fringe musicals go, this is among the best. There are some hellish catchy tunes that I must admit were swirling in my head for a good 24hrs after the final bow. For me, the marker of a genuinely good musical is whether you’d choose to listen to its soundtrack. Well, suffice it to say, I've already looked for it. Now, all that said, it's not without its flaws. I feel this is a five star production that only just scrapes a four. We're greeted upon entry with Timo Verse's large and impressive set, though it's strangely reminiscent of angel wings, which is a bit cheesy and narcissistic. The music is good enough that a simple hospital bed would have been more than enough, maybe much more powerful. As it is, the heavenly clam-cum-chrysalis slightly overcrowds the space and undermines the substance of the piece. It isn't needed in my view; they've gone with a fair strategy of having the show star-led, so let de Campo shine instead. There's a fantastic lighting package from Stephanie Afleck though, even if it is occasionally a bit flat or on-the-nose in its creativity, and flawless sound from Birgit Plank too, from start to finish. De Campo is good, with natural charm and comic timing. Hats off to them, they give it their absolute all, playing as if to a full West End auditorium, but without overpowering us. The role could maybe benefit from a stronger character actor to juggle the 14 versatile parts, as there are moments where it's not clear for longer than is comfortable who is speaking. But it's a good stab nonetheless and does pretty much always click into place thanks to the great direction and choreography from Six and Jerôme Knols. A decent Act I finale takes us into a slightly rushed second half that seems to race through Amanda's adulthood in half the time it took over her adolescence, as though Six suddenly got very bored and thought the job was done. This is ironic as it was in many ways the most nuanced and interesting part of her life: we end up learning nothing about the relationship between her identity and her role as a dad; no real sense of the altered family dynamics; nor any examination of the impact on the long and loving marriage with her wife. Instead we have quick-fire caricatures that shun her out of toilets, sack her from her job, and direct her to the male changing rooms, which wipes away any depth it might otherwise have had in favour of a blunt and awkward "message" that possibly does a disservice to itself. There's truth in it, but superficiality is for TikTok, theatre needs shading. With a bit more of it, there'd be five stars waiting here. I think this is a common thread. For all the great songs and brilliant lyrics, Amanda remains quite two-dimensional. We see her discovering make-up and dresses, but never really go any deeper. It feels a bit reductive and I wanted more from her. I felt she had more to give. It is undeniably an accomplished musical overall. I would say much of that is down to the work of musical theatre veteran, Charles Hart (perhaps most famous for The Phantom of the Opera), whose lyrics are one of the best things about the whole show. Despite a few bum lines, he does a mind-bogglingly brilliant job of rendering songs originally in German into something highly legible, poetic, and natural, as though they were always made for English. Not a cringe in sight. One of the problems though is that it's also pretty expensive. It is worth it, and that's not a quality issue, just an observation. At £35 a pop, you're talking the best part of a hundred quid for two. Throw in a couple of drinks and you've got yourself a big night out. The show's production values are good, but that's steep for a small (however perfectly formed) pub theatre and unfairly pits it against much larger productions. At that price, you're only attracting an audience of de Campo fans – and no minds need changing or informing there. It locks out the very people who may benefit most from seeing this kind of story – everyone. Amanda finishes up hoping she'll at last be able to see herself reflected truly in the mirror. I have a feeling if she allowed the audience in a little closer, in depth and accessibility, they'd see she was always already there. Amanda – The Night Before Me Written by Rory Six & Charles Hart Directed by Rory Six & Jerôme Knols Music by Rory Six English Lyrics by Charles Hart Musical Direction by Bettina Bogdany Orchestration & Musical Supervision by Perrin Manzer Allen Choreography by Jerôme Knols Produced by Theatercouch The Bridge House Theatre, 22 September – 10 October 2026 Box Office: https://thebridgehousetheatre.co.uk/shows/amanda-the-night-before-me/ Photography Credit Andreas Hofmarcher Reviewed by Alix Owen Alix Owen is a Pushcart Prize nominated writer from Wales. His work has appeared at the Liars’ League, the Camden Fringe, and in print and digital anthologies internationally.

‘A warm, sincere portrayal of life in and out of the care system.’ ★★★ At seventeen years old, Robbie is on the precipice of adulthood. A daunting prospect for most people, but he faces an additional challenge: leaving the care system he has been in for most of his life in order to live independently. Based on true experiences of care-experienced young people, Lin Coghlan’s FLOCK goes beyond the typical coming of age story, exploring the reality of navigating the UK care system in 21st century Britain. This quest for independence is central to the play, as Robbie fixates on securing the all-important bidding number that will theoretically get him a priority place in social housing as a care-leaver. His sister Cel is equally driven by her ambition to go to university and achieve the degree she has always dreamed of. However, the journey is not an easy one for either sibling and as they lean on each other in lieu of their parents, cracks in their relationship start to form. Robbie’s best friend Miko is also a key source of support, but faced with the reality of caring for a seriously ill parent, the question of who can genuinely be relied upon in the absence of traditional family figures is at the core of the narrative. The performance certainly has a lot of heart, and features a charismatic cast of characters. Though Robbie, Cel and Miko have faced a staggering amount of adversity in their short lives, they remain spirited and determined, moving through the world with boundless energy and vibrant humour. By contrast, social worker Mrs Bosely is relatively restrained, treading a careful line between professionalism and compassion that often blurs when times get tough. The actors switch roles to inhabit different secondary characters and time periods to portray significant figures like their Nan and various love interests, as well as their younger selves. This device can often be challenging to execute smoothly, but the actors in this production pull it off with ease, and the high points of the performance are the genuine moments of tenderness that the characters manage to cultivate in their otherwise chaotic lives Although undoubtedly a story about social care in the UK, FLOCK concerns itself primarily with exploring the experiences of individual service users, and the emotions that arise from these, rather than being an overt critique of the system. Lengthy discussion of specific policy or reform are notably absent, as the play centres its focus on the difficulties of living a life rooted in so much instability and the ramifications this has on relationships, finances and navigating the wider world. In places, the play struggles to maintain its momentum, and although there are certainly emotionally-charged moments, there is a perceptible lack of tension as the play moves towards its denouement. The story is shaped through a series of non-chronological scenes, and is less interested in narrative surprises than in portraying apexes of emotional resonance, in which the bravado of the main characters breaks down, revealing the vulnerability at their core. The references to Deliveroo and vapes situate the piece in the present day, however some of the language, especially the slang, feels a little dated. Similarly, some logistical details of the plot do not ring true in a play that is otherwise committed to gritty realism. The staging is one of the most impressive aspects of the play. White, billowing screens of fabric are used for shadow work, to change scenes, and even function as makeshift markets in one particularly inspired scene depicting a bustling town centre. Set in local Lewisham, the play is peppered with local references, and there is even a ‘Walk the story’ guided audio tour as a bonus feature for anyone who wants to experience the main sites of the play themselves, all narrated by the character of Miko. The attention to detail in these choices cannot be faulted, building a truly fleshed-out picture of the world the characters inhabit. Despite its issues with pacing and a few questionable dialogue choices, FLOCK still shines as a warm, sincere portrayal of life in – and out of – the care system, that is poignant and humorous in equal measure. Flock, by Lin Coghlan at Jack Studio Theatre, 1st October 2026 Box office Presented by PlayingON Cast Robbie: Joseph Clarke Cel: Tabitha Detroit Miko: Romeo Mika Mrs Bosely: Alice Selwyn Crew Writer: Lin Coghlan Director: Jim Pope Set and Costume Designer: Sophie Jump Lighting Designer: Alex Wardle Sound Designer: Jules Maxwell Design Assistant: Amelia Kyriacou Production Manager and Technical Stage Manager: Brent Tan Assistant Stage Manager: Isabella Caseley Poster Design: Nancy Ellis Producer: Chris Elwell Executive Producer: Rhian Davies Programme Manager - Education: Nina Graveney-Edwards Photo credit: Lucy Hayes

 ‘… the individual scenes convince. The let-down is the revelations. Too many, and too much.’ ★★★ In a tidy little semi in an outer London borough, three warring brothers come together to resolve the mystery of their father’s disappearance. As the afternoon drags on, revelation after revelation of the family’s stormy history tells us more than we wanted to know about them. David Solomon writes and performs in this, as the stay-at-home brother tasked with the father’s care. The dialogue is sharp and funny, the characterisations are acute, the individual scenes convince. The let-down is the revelations. Too many, and too much. This is a cut down version of Eugene O’Neill and Tennessee Williams’ family sagas, where the dark cloud that has hung over them finally bursts and dysfunction is explained. The plays explore a looming sense of doom and move remorselessly towards the final revelation. Very Greek. Solomon proceeds by manufacturing a series of small revelations that pile up to a final big one, and does it by manufacturing one to one scenes, that require a surprise visit, a crow-barred excuse for the uninvolved actors to get off stage. It becomes predictable and almost farcical, and that isn’t the mood music the piece requires. The effortlessly funny back and forth between three brothers that opens the show gets darker and more doom-laden, but also more mechanical and less convincing. It’s a promising play with a good cast, and it is briskly and effectively directed by Brittany Rex, but it desperately needs editing, it desperately needs fewer reveals, it would be better served by leading its audience to a revelation they can infer, rather than get clubbed over the head by. Lots to enjoy, many good moments, but a severely flawed structure. Part of the Lambeth Fringe, on till Saturday 3rd October 2026. Cellar Door Theatre Company presents: DAD by David Solomon at Golden Goose Theatre 22 September – 3 October 2026 BOX OFFICE https://www.goldengoosetheatre.co.uk/whatson/dad Cast Ivan Kaye as Aaron David Solomon as Nathan Nigel Betts as Karl Paul Kelvin as Daniel Joanne Arber as Leila Jerry Ezekiel as Alistair Creative Written by David Solomon Directed by Brittany Rex Lighting and Sound Design by James Denny Fight Direction by Nora Iso-Kungas

'Well-performed pastiche' ★★ The spotlight is on Arthur Carmichael, a suited lawyer, who persuasively talks to the audience about truth, proof and evidence before we see him back in his office with his partner, Mitchell Hargrieve. Keen-to-impress young female intern, Talia Cooper brings a potential new client to the office. Rita Lemkin openly admits to murdering her husband but would like a defence lawyer. Played consistently by Rhian Holmes, Lemkin is set up as the classic film-noir, femme fatale with a mid-west, Southern drawl; she's fully aware of her own sex appeal and female charm. Lemkin brings both the inciting incident and an ethical predicament for the lawyers. Should they take the case on? Lemkin is convinced Carmichael is her man. After all, he did marry his first client, Lucy Carmichael née Balsam (Maeve-Anne Allen) who was acquitted of murdering her abusive, millionaire father. After a short successful run at Sheffield’s Lantern Theatre, Conflict of Interest, a character-led drama by Righton Productions is having a whirlwind presentation in London. Directed by Jazz Sewsanker and written by Thomas Carruthers, it’s a long piece at 2 hours and 25 minutes with an interval. Carruthers also plays the toxically masculine and arrogant Carmichael, who constantly clashes with his professional partner, Hargrieve, performed with defensive bitterness by William Leggetter. Bespectacled and put-upon, he’s more of a ‘details’ man but also an angry man, recently divorced by his wife. Both male characters are repugnant and attempt to out-vile each other with revolting comments and humiliating put- downs. Who will win this war? A strand of misogyny is explored in Conflict of Interest and depressingly concluded. All the audience's hopes are pinned on Talia the intern, who may be the only honest character in this study of duplicity. Sympathetically played by Amy Cash, she sees most clearly what’s going on but ultimately, she too is shafted by the patriarchy. The courtroom is arguably one of the first forms of theatre and brings inherent drama to an audience with built in stakes, conflict, protagonists and antagonists. There have been some notable past examples: Witness for the Prosecution, Twelve Angry Men and To Kill a Mockingbird and this play does feel like something of a homage to the past which may account for its confusing time and setting. The staging and delivery give both 1930s Raymond Chandler vibes and 1950s crime classics. It’s only when Alvin & the Chipmunks and fax machines are mentioned, we realise this is the 1980s. (Although a date is scrawled on an ‘evidence board,’ it’s too small to read.) Despite the talent on show, one can’t help feeling this pastiche would be fresher, more authentic and contemporary if had been transposed into current-day Sheffield. It suffers from trying to cram in too much story; a shorter, sharper version would be stronger. The ensemble in this play all do sterling work and impressively embody their roles, but as a piece of dramatic writing, it’s unfocused with too much going on and too many points of view. CONFLICT OF INTEREST by Righton Productions at The Hen and Chickens Theatre 1 - 3 October 2026 BOX OFFICE

'Remembers the lost' ★★★ ½ The air is forty shades of blue as two men, in separate bedrooms and apartments, have hard core, full-on, explicit telephone sex, their fantasies batted back and forth. JR, a he-man in the Tom Selleck mould with lots of body and a mid-west drawl, is fully invested and drives forward with an urgent need. Bert, slimmer built, more sensitive and a little detached, listens carefully to JR and mirrors him - or whatever the audio equivalent is. The masturbatory conversations finish when their purpose is achieved. As these mutually relieving conversations continue over evenings, weeks and months, we learn more about the characters as small reveals slip through the sexual content. JR (Paul Dennison AKA Mr Gay England 2021 and Mr Gay Europe 2022) is a military man who served in Vietnam. Recovering from an injury, there’s a subtext of Christian belief as he struggles with questions of morality and sin best expressed by a strange story he tells Bert that involves them both being ‘purified’. He may be married or passing as heterosexual in the world outside these illicit conversations. Bert (James Lee) is intellectually superior to JR, more relaxed with his sexuality and more nuanced as an actor. Out of the closet, he finds joy not shame in his lived life. Although he finds some of JR’s attitudes curious and despite their obvious differences, the two men draw closer, sharing collective fantasies and intimacies. When Bert is laid low following the bereavement of a close friend, JR listens, and as their conversations start to separate the sexual from the emotional, feelings begin to shift and deepen. Set in 1980s San Francisco, JERKER is set at a terrifying time when AIDS was decimating entire communities of gay men. Although the word AIDS is not mentioned once, it weaves in and out of the text as an unspoken, fearful spectre. The story arc is built through the phone calls alone - with no action outside these - and each phone call and time span is broken up by a poppy, feel-good music choice of the era (sound design by director, Henry Adams & Scott Michaels) including Madonna, Blondie, Prince and the Eurythmics. At 85-minutes long with no interval, this 18+ production by Adam Roebuck, has some issues with pacing and transitions. While the middle section, when the two men start to grow closer, is fully engaging , the beginning and end are drawn out in different ways. Theatrically, it starts with a long bang - which gives a new dimension to the cock and ball story - and finishes with a long whimper. The audience understands what's unfolded, and Paul Dennison as JR is left isolated and exposed, probably for too long. That said, this is a moving piece that recalls a time when shocking numbers of gay men vanished from the world forever. Forty years after Robert Chelsey’s debut of JERKER in San Francisco, this revival invites us to remember all those who were lost. BOX OFFICE Cast: JR - Paul Dennison Bert - James Lee​​​​ ​ Creatives: Director: Henry Adams Assistant Director/Intimacy Director: Alice Camarota Set/Costume: Waterloo East Theatre Lighting Design: Jonathan Simpson Sound Design: Henry Adams & Scott Michaels QLab Programing: Dylan Salinger Stage Manager: Jack Firman Photography & Videography: Scott Michaels

‘plays with expectations and identity, constantly shifting our understanding of relationships’ ★★★★ A middle-aged man who still finds himself very attractive walks into a bar to find a young woman who’s asked to meet him. She says he’s her father. From the first tonal shift as Doug adjusts to this unexpected situation, Girl Out Of The Blue plays with expectations and identity, constantly shifting our understanding of relationships between three characters whose past have been submerged and Abi, a girl (Miranda Braun) who wants to know who she is. Doug (Jonathan Sidgwick) is a journalist, a jack-the-lad playboy who, even married with two teenage daughters, is still an eternal chancer. Maya (Seeta Indrani), his wife, wants nothing to do with the unexpected arrival of a new step-daughter into her well-ordered existence. Beth (Sarah Berger), the mother of Doug’s unknown daughter, has done all she can to keep him unknowing. Giles Cole’s sharp, episodic play sets brief scenes in wine bars, outdoor spaces, homes as the older triangle navigate the new waters Abi’s decision to seek out her father has revealed. Abi herself (and Braun’s is the pick of the performances as a girl both confident and vulnerable) is never clear what she wants – a dad, a relationship with a man who was never a meaningful dad, just a sense of where she came from. The play’s structure and dialogue sometimes feel televisual, with short scenes and some slightly awkward transitions between them and speeches in which characters say whatever is on their minds without much filler, suspense or subtext. But the power of the emerging relationship between father and daughter is the heart of the play as Doug and Abi move from suspicion and uncertainty to trust and comfort and back to something less easy as Abi finds out more about a father who left her mother for another woman he’d made pregnant and has other skeletons in a rather grubby closet. Most scenes are duets, and the mother-daughter sequences between Berger and Braun touchingly find both their vulnerabilities in a warm if sometimes touchy relationship. Braun and Sidgwick combine brilliantly, too, his shiftiness and the ever-present hint of sleaze playing a significant role as she finds out more about him. The third pairing, of Doug and Maya, works less well, with something of a mismatch of styles as Sidgwick plays Doug big and Indrani remains very understated even in her moments of biggest emotion; individually fine acting choices, but not collectively persuasive on why these two would ever have married at all. Sound design is great, the simple set works well in creating multiple locations in a small space, and the show remains gripping throughout its fairly brief length. Alexander Marshall and Close Quarter Productions in association with Holocener Ltd present: GIRL OUT OF THE BLUE by Giles Cole at the Tabard Theatre 23 September to 10 October 2026. Box Office: https://www.tabard.org.uk Cast Sarah Berger | Beth Seeta Indrani | Maya Jonathan Sidgwick | Doug Miranda Braun | Abi Creative Team Alexander ‘Sandy’ Marshall | Producer Holofcener Ltd | Co-producer Close Quarter Productions | Producer Jonas Cemm | Director Giles Cole | Writer Bethany Blake | Designer William Godfree | Composer Andrew Johnson | Sound Designer Alexandra Kataigida | Production/Stage Manager Reviewer David Weir writes The Westminster Mysteries novel series, including The Honourable Member for Murder and Motion for Murder. Plays include Confessional (Oran Mor, Glasgow), Murdering the Truth (Greenwich Theatre, London) and Better Together (Jack Studio, Brockley, London).

‘a veritable miracle elixir of tragedy and comedy’ 👻👻👻👻 Spine chilling For the London location of this show, there could have been no finer home than the Bridewell Theatre just off the infamous Fleet Street; home of the Demon Barber himself. Walking down the street from the stunning St Paul’s Cathedral right past the very address of the pie shop and barbers was the perfect atmosphere to welcome me into this gripping tale. Stepping into the intimate auditorium, I was greeted by a haunting sombre orchestral choir and a stage lit by candlelight; an eerie welcome indeed. As the house lights went down, Mrs. Lovett herself, played by writer Lucy Rosyln, slowly steps forward to begin our journey, in this solo performance. Lucy’s portrayal of Mrs. Lovett is equal parts hilarious and frightening. Recounting the tragic and illuminating events that would soon lead her to becoming the accomplice of a madman, her demeanour switches rapidly between gleeful and despairing as she engages with the audience in a welcoming manner, enticing quite a few laughs. The demon manages to charm you with a smile... for a while. Drawing on comparisons between man and animal throughout the play, she speaks of the savage nature of man’s soul. Animal noises are played throughout the performance consisting of the barks of stray dogs, the squeals of pigs, the neighs of horses and the songs of whales. Prostitutes are referred to as ‘Winchester Geese’. The wails of her parents are compared to whale songs. The buried bodies of the unnamed in Crossbones Graveyard are referred to as trimmings. Making her point that the only real difference between man and beasts is the language we speak. This is a woman desperately seeking to belong in a world that cages her true nature. Her desperate sense of wanting to belong is shown by her insisting to be referred to by her first name, Eleanore. Doing her best to remain seen as a person even as she slides ever closer to becoming a monster. In the movie and the musical, she is solely referred to as Mrs. Lovett. Nothing more than a wife. An object of possession. But here? Just her? She’s Eleanore. Tragedy plagues every corner of Eleanore’s life, and you find yourself sympathizing with her character. Hearing her recount her story of when the carcass of a whale washed up on the bank of the Thames and she cried with pity. It’s easy to forget this young girl will become the woman who bakes bodies into pies. She takes you on a journey of your own along with her; a journey of understanding how a person becomes what they are. It’s up to you if you can find the balance, if you can. Sympathizing with someone’s past while condemning their present. Her anger is also shown throughout, and a lot of this is placed towards God. Unable to find solace and protection through Him, she seeks it elsewhere. Her butcher’s table becomes her altar, where she alone has control over life and death. She wears only her nightclothes while carving up the remains of the animals that find their way to her table; allowing us to see her open and vulnerable for just a little while. She shows the helplessness of women in the Victorian era. The things they go through and the things they had to do to survive. Not that much has changed between then and now. Lamenting the struggle of power and the lack of consequences for those in it. She recounts how sin was attempted to be confined to Southwark, and it highlights this power struggle well. The men who venture out there can come back. The women remain trapped. And as her life goes from bad to worse as the years go on, we see her shed her skin of innocence and goodness. When faced with utter desperation, morals are usually the first sacrifice. What use is goodness in a world that insists on handing you the bad? It’s hard for a solo performer to maintain people’s attention on their own. But Roslyn’s gripping and entertaining portrayal of Eleanore Lovett manages to make the 70-minute runtime fly by, to the point where I found myself disappointed when the play came to an end. There’s an unhinged beauty to the performance, and you find yourself almost entranced. The limited set consisting of a single table with few props helps to keep your attention on the leading lady. Clearly you can tell this story is something Roslyn is deeply passionate about, and it absolutely shows in her hauntingly beautiful performance. Overall, this show is a veritable miracle elixir of tragedy and comedy detailing the powerful notions of God, savagery and womanhood. If you have the chance to catch this show at the Cheltenham Everyman on the 30th September, the Chichester Festival Theatre on the 1st of October or the Exeter Phoenix on the 8th of October please do, you’ll absolutely ‘Lovett’! Further coverage of LPTM HORROR SEASON 2026 can be found here LOVETT Written and performed by Lucy Roslyn Directed by Jamie Firth Sound Design by Annie May Fletcher Artwork by Madison Coby Cheltenham Everyman - 30 September, 7.45pm | Tickets Here Chichester Festival Theatre, The Nest - 1 October, 8pm | Tickets Here Exeter Phoenix - 8 October, 7.30pm | Tickets Here Reviewer Laura King is a 28-year-old aspiring writer of novels and plays, with her first novel aiming to be finished this year. She studied Productions Arts at Weston College before moving to London and finding work within the theatre industry with both ATG and DMT. She has previously found work as a life admin assistant to Olivier award winner Janie Dee and has collaborated with her on such shows as ‘Putting It Together’ and ‘Janie Dee’s Beautiful World Cabaret’.

“Tailwind’s use of connection, and more significantly, disconnection, shines.” ★★★★★ In the spaces between each letter of its title, G R I E F C A S E attempts to hold the hollow, the messy, and the universal. Its success as a show lies not in the success of this attempt, but rather, in its acknowledgement of the absolute impossibility of doing so. G has just turned 30, but a birthday party and series of office meetings turn suddenly into days clearing out their late mother’s council flat after it’s already been rented to a new resident. Half empty suitcases stick out of the set’s walls, the floor appears splattered with ink. In their design of the traverse set, Ru Lawrence and Toby Hampton capture the transience both of the literal flat and of grief itself.  In the devised movement of the piece, the company cleverly links the birthday party, meetings, and aftermath of G’s mother’s passing with common visual moments, as the everyday and celebratory flip with scary ease into the weight of fresh grief. The movement language of the show remains consistently effective throughout. As they see visions of their late mother, G revisits the missed visits home and explosive fights. Yet, their attempts to embrace her fail – his mother’s (Collette Hodson) arms go limp and they just won’t stay round G’s neck. This is just one instance in which Tailwind’s use of connection, and more significantly, disconnection, shines. Bodies weave through each other, catch and drop each other, pass just past each other. Material and fabric are manipulated as clothes suffocate and restrict, or a plastic sheet engulfs ensemble members like a giant wave. The show shifts between hilariously awkward Garry’s (Jack St Leger) attempts to console G and G’s friend Lucy’s (Poppy Janisch) own mourning of G’s mum. The first ever co-production of the Hope Theatre, G R I E F C A S E is a well-crafted look at human connection, how it shapes us, and how the grief of a loss reverberates. G R I E F C A S E by Tailwind Physical Theatre at The Hope Theatre, 22 September to 3 October 2026 Produced by Tailwind Physical Theatre and The Hope Theatre 22 Sept - 3 Oct 2026 Tuesday - Saturday Shows at 7pm Tickets £10/£16/£18 Box Office: 0333 666 3366 www.thehopetheatre.com Cast G - Ru Lawrence Mum/Ensemble - Collette Hodson Garry/Ensemble - Jack St Leger Lucy/Ensemble - Poppy Janisch Creative Team Written by Ru Lawrence Devised by Tailwind Physical Theatre Directed by Jack Mckee Lighting Design by Laurel Marks Composition by Phil Roscoe Sound Design by Ru Lawrence Set Design by Ru Lawrence & Toby Hampton Photographer credit: Hamish MacGillivray Social Media Details X: @TheHopeTheatre Facebook: /thehopetheatre Insta: @thehopetheatre @tailwindphysicaltheatre

‘A sobering and moving experience’ ★★★★ Reporting ‘facts’ from warzones should be straightforward. Deaths are deaths, murders are murders, war crimes are war crimes and the incidents or numbers should speak for themselves. But language is never neutral and the validity of numbers is dependent on the language wrapped around them. The question at the heart of Sînziana Cojocărescu’s new play about the Gaza genocide is the value of a human life, how every one should be counted equally but also how the toil of violent acts can be muted and obscured by language. Ultimately, it shows how the number of Palestinian deaths has not been proportionately reflected in media coverage. The First Year (of The Gaza Genocide in the Media) is recounted more or less in a linear way by the cast of four, but the approach is Brechtian. There is a mix of songs, mockumentary, as well as dramatised sequences taking us through those 12 months, with Cojocărescu’s pacy direction maintaining momentum. The video projection (designed by Dan Light) keeps a running total of journalist and Palestinian losses above the striking glass-paned set (designed by Juda Akil). The cast take turns leading the action. Luca Kamleh Chapman starts off as a gameshow-style host. Sara Masry at one point writes the equations of the deaths from each community related to media coverage with the airs of a maths teacher on the glass set. And in one of the most moving sequences, Maryam Abu Khaled plays a mother in Gaza recounting her story. But even in an age of mobile phones and social media, sharing stories and making the world hear is not straightforward. The play cannot tell every story or reveal each document of lives lost from that very first year. It focuses on a few instances, including the murder of Mohammad Bhar and the 200 people killed in Nuseirat during a hostage rescue. The focus of the play is how the media reports these events, from individual incidents to the broader conflict, emphasising the value put on some losses over others. The role of the BBC, and what the play names its so-called ‘impartiality’, comes under particular scrutiny. The forensic research about language in media reporting is relentless. The First Year… is not always an easy watch and nor should it be. It is an example of the vital role theatre can play, sharing stories not shared elsewhere or, in this case, usually told mainly through one perspective. It is therefore a sobering and moving experience. THE FIRST YEAR (OF THE GAZA GENOCIDE IN THE MEDIA) produced by BÉZNĂ Theatre plays at the New Diorama Theatre until 10 October 2026 Box office: https://newdiorama.com/whats-on/the-first-year Creative Team Writer-Director - Sînziana Cojocărescu Co-Writers - Hannah Khalil, Ahmed Masoud & Anonymous Assistant Director - Hassan Al Rawas Set & Costume Designer - Jida Akil Video Designer - Dan Light Lighting Designer - Jodie Underwood Composer - Kareem Samara Sound Designer - Dominic Kennedy Movement Director - Mathew Wernham Researcher - Niveen Haliqawi Research Assistant - Donia Ashour Consultants - Dr Mike Berry, Aseel Mousa, Dr Carrie Westwater Psychological Support - Dr Nimisha Patel Producer - Claire Gilbert for BÉZNĂ Theatre Production Manager - Pete Rickards for eStage Stage Manager - Stacey Nurse Translators - Maryam Abu Khaled, Hassan Al Rawas and Sofia But What Can I Do? Programme Partners - International State Crime Initiative & Shadow World Investigations Cast Maryam Abu Khaled Luca Kamleh Chapman Sara Masry Sofia This production is supported by Arts Council England, Public Engagement Fund of Queen Mary University, Royal Victoria Hall Foundation and Cockayne Grants for the Arts, a Donor Advised Fund, held at The Prism Charitable Trust. Photography: Alex Brenner