Reviews

‘entertaining with lots of belly laughs and real heart’ ★★★★ This project is an outstanding showcase for new company Fifty Sixty Theatre featuring current Royal Central School London students and alumni. Their chosen play is Toby Moran Mylett’s new work MISSING LANE MARKERS ON THE A47 about strangers whose lives intertwine as they come across each other at an isolated spot on the A47. With three main story threads, there are plenty of opportunities for the large cast (nine players) to have significant stage time. The three stories are shown in a succession of alternating scenes. It’s black box theatre which puts the focus on the script, the skills of the actors and the soundscape (excellently designed by Ben Devlin and pulled off on the night by technician Roman Terrazas). The themes are set up nicely when a young woman crashes her car into a hedge, close enough to an isolated house to meet its sole inhabitant, a rather lonely soul clearly totally unused to conversing with other people. The theme of loneliness is picked up by another story line involving a road worker, a lost ‘cyclist’ (who doesn’t actually have a bicycle), and a driver (flagged down and made an unwilling saviour to the lost cyclist). The final story involves a woman who owns a pet iguana. Her x-boyfriend is at her house to take care of the creature while she’s away, but he accidentally lets the animal escape on the A47 which results in a series of consequences. Added to all this are a number of other vignettes and story lines, making quite a full 80 minutes of entertainment. Entertaining it certainly is, with many belly laughs. These are largely achieved through the subtext and the wonderful physical theatre used by the company. It is impossible to say whether the body language is written into the script or it’s a choice made by the company. It shows that the actors have worked extremely hard to give nuance and depth to their characterisations. The story involving the iguana was a particular highlight of the night with all three actors doing a really fine job. Gaby Coleman who played Gloria, the iguana, had the audience in stitches with her silent emotional response to every situation and people she comes into contact with, giving the creature an inner life. In her human roles she also excelled with very strong characterisations. Kudos also to Jessie Williams as the cyclist whose vulnerability had a certain cheeky charm and won hearts onto her side very quickly, it was easy to root for her. Here and there the storylines dipped a little, and perhaps need a little strengthening or judicious cutting, but overall, it is a tremendous start for this company who claim that they are ‘not-too-serious … comprised of slightly unusual artists with a debatable quantity of je ne sais quois ’. They certainly provoke a feeling of joie de vivre with their sympathetic portrayals of loneliness and isolation. There is real heart in this in production. Keep in touch with the company Instagram https://www.instagram.com/fiftysixtytheatre/ MISSING LANE MARKERS ON THE A47 Starring: Harry Bucukoglu, Sarah Chamberlain, Gaby Coleman, Áine Craig, Ben Devlin, Daniel Barney Newton, Cléo Roggenhofer, David Vayne, Jessie Williams Creative team: Toby Moran Mylett (playwright), Megan Schadler (producer), Anna Willmoth (production assistant), Ben Devlin (music), Cléo Roggenhofer (costumes), Roman Terrazas (technician).

‘brought to life and turned into compelling viewing by two actors who are on top of their game’ ★★★ This was a play about two friends, Paul and Snowy, one trying to find a job the other trying to find himself. Early on it seemed to lack direction and it was unclear what it was about. It had a strange atmosphere possibly from the black humour which was at times a bit sick and didn’t always get much of a laugh. It reminded me a bit of the theatre of the absurd plays. Was it up to us to make what we could of this slow pace, antagonistic situation, weird jokes and bazaar happenings? Something had to happen soon because I was in danger of nodding off but I was here to pay attention and that was the thing that eventually dawned on me. Maybe it was because of all the strangeness that it was impossible not to pay attention. It certainly was an odd story and with two lesser actors the whole thing might have been in danger of falling apart completely. The more it developed the more obvious it was that this was not just a series of situations strung together to get a laugh. Their friendship was changing as their circumstances changed and the unexpected events led to unpredictable decisions. Paul’s frustration at being unsuccessful at securing a job was so well played by Iwan Bond I’m sure everyone in the audience was rooting for him however hopeless he made the task appear. Here was a lad who didn’t have a clue why he wanted to do what he wanted to do and his friend didn’t really want to do anything but ended up doing something that somebody else forced him to do. Their philosophizing over what was worth doing and what was a waste of time was complicated by a cow. These things cost money and need to be milked frequently so for them to find one lying about was not the most realistic event so it made me wonder if there was some kind of symbolism going on here. What did the cow represent? Whatever it was, it was clear that the friendship was the main theme. The friends altered their views towards the cow after plenty of suggestions of what to do with it, some cruel, some impractical and some just ridiculous. Evan L Barker who played Snowy getting a massive dose of reality from his father made a startling change in his attitude and demeanour, so much so that it appeared almost like another actor had slipped onstage to finish the play off. Whatever the point of the story was, one thing was for sure. This was not just well written but brought to life and turned into compelling viewing by two actors who were on top of their game. Both of them have to be commended for giving very good performances. Photographer: Craig Sugden BOX OFFICE Written by Simon Longman Performed by Iwan Bond and Evan L. Barker Directed by David Bond

'Cesca Echlin’s script is neurotic, intricate and beautiful ★★★★ ‘Looking for Giants’ is a one-woman show following the narrator’s relationships with three men who have become like giants in her mind, swelling and inflating so that her idea of them bears little resemblance to reality. Although the men - a university tutor, an older man on a dating app and a teenage crush - are rhapsodised about by the narrator, who in obsessive monologues unpicks every slight interaction, this is not a show about men, but rather the mythical beasts men become in the narrator’s mind. Abby McCann is wonderful as the play’s unnamed narrator, delivering an assured performance which brings levity and humour along with moments of darkness. Even when describing feelings of helplessness and submission, McCann is fully in control of the room, holding the audience’s attention throughout the show’s run time, always an impressive feat in the endurance game of the one-person show. Her use of facial expressions and movements enhance the script, slipping effortlessly between the character of the narrator and the male objects of her desire, often to comedic effect. McCann’s performance highlights the agency of the narrator in her obsessions, transforming female hunger from something shameful to something genuinely thrilling. Cesca Echlin’s script is neurotic, intricate and beautiful, piles of shiny sentences spooling out and unravelling as the narrator digs obsessively into the meaning behind her male interests’ actions. The flickering power imbalances, particularly in the relationship between the narrator and the tutor, have something Sally Rooney-ish in them, while the themes of limerence and the subjectivity in erotic feeling reflect works of Chris Kraus and Anne Carson. In general, the writing is clear and confident — while it occasionally dips into slightly frilly and over-long descriptive passages, these suit the narrator’s looping fantastical worldview, and don't overly disrupt the otherwise tight and engaging storytelling. The second part of the play, following the narrator’s conversations on a dating app with an older man, is the strongest portion of writing, turning the mundanity of dating app interactions into an epic of biblical proportions. Unfortunately, the final part of the show is also the weakest, with the writing slightly losing the crystal clear arc of the first two parts and occasionally veering into confusion, although the final monologue is a return to form, celebrating the rapturous solipsism of girlhood, and joyfully reframing longing as an empowering act. The lighting, designed by Skylar Turnbull Hurd, makes up the entire set, gorgeously wrapping around McCann and providing the landscape of her desires, dreamy but formless and intangible. This is strikingly effective in the open space of the King’s Head’s main auditorium, bathing the theatre alternately in smokey purple, searing white or golden light, filling the space with the grandeur of the narrator’s obsessions. This effect is heightened by the sound designer Sarah Spencer’s evocative soundscape, which whispers, creaks and scrapes along with the narrator’s storytelling before swelling up to a screeching intensity as her fantasies reach fever pitch. ‘Looking for Giants’ works as a paean to overthinking which is both fresh and relatable, with a strong central performance and elegant sound and lighting design. The writing dances in the ambiguous while remaining genuinely human and funny, culminating in a startling and invigorating thesis of female limerence executed almost perfectly. Photography: WoodForge Studios Looking for Giants at the King’s Head Theatre 14 - 27 January 2025 Writer/Director Cesca Echlin That What’s Wild theatre company Box office: https://kingsheadtheatre.com/whats-on/looking-for-giants

‘Snappy words: Witty but unwieldy’ ★★ It is a pleasure to see ten young actors, many of whom trained together at London School of Dramatic Art, working so hard to create thoughtful and experimental new work of their own even though at times it feels like a deep-dive graduate showcase. George Bootle (who also plays Friar Lawrence) has completely rewritten Romeo and Juliet and given it a brand new “outside-the-box” plot. Romeo and Mercutio as a gay couple? Well that’s an interesting idea and, come to think of it I’m surprised that nobody, to my knowledge, has explored it before. Or how about Prince Escalus plotting with Friar Lawrence to bring Romeo and Juliet together as a means of resolving the Capulet/Montague quarrel? Or Benvolio as the bad guy, at one point agonising in a conscience-stricken ghost scene straight out of Macbeth. Julius Caesar or Hamlet? Or Friar Lawrence as a devious plotter much more like the disguised Duke in Measure for Measure than the usual misguided, but benign, interpretation? Some of this is in the language of Romeo and Juliet, some lines are borrowed from other plays, some of it is in modern English, often in iambic pentameter complete with rhyming couplets. Bootle is nothing if not thorough even if, at times, it feels overwrought. Old pronoun forms (thee, thou etc) are retained and it’s in 17th century dress. One of the production’s ideas is to present the action “from the other room” which means, for example, that when Juliet is pouring out her love for Romeo on the balcony, she’s off stage and the eavesdropping nurse is on stage. As a device it works quite well but Bootle and director, Lukas Rimkus do it too often with, for example, fight scenes, Capulet’s furious castigation of his daughter and more. Ideas are actually one of this show’s problems. It’s full of them. Therefore it’s indigestible. Of course actors and directors try things out in rehearsal but then, typically, jettison most of their experiments as a means of honing the final product. This company clearly didn’t get that message. Why, for example, does the apothecary get a soliloquy (too many of those here anyway) of her own which adds nothing to narrative or characterisation? And, the story telling, sadly, often gets lost in the muddle especially in the final scene when, eventually, the play is reconfigured as a prequel to Twelfth Night. In the prologue to Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare refers to “the two hours’ traffic of our stage” which is another message this company didn’t get. This show is far too long and didn’t finish until 10.15pm. It is, in fact, longer than several well paced versions of the source play I’ve seen in recent years. Cuts, please note, are part of the art of good theatre. All this is a great pity because every member of the cast is a good, often versatile, actor and there’s a lot of adept, if sometimes confusing, multi-roling. And in places it’s very funny. Imagine the wedding night scene in which Romeo, with difficulty, reveals his sexuality so they shake hands and agree to be friends. Full marks for effort, then, but the show needs a lot of work. Star Cross*d at Golden Goose Theatre George Bootle and William Shakespeare Directed by Lukas Rimkus Golden Goose Theatre Box Office: https://www.goldengoosetheatre.co.uk/whatson/star-cross*d Cast: Linea Larsen, Will Knights, Cyrilla Comer, George Bootle, Jonathan Canizales, Charlie Patterson, Annie Napier (also the composer of original music), Rachel Eben, Flavie Ravenhill, Karen Sweetman

"A heartbreaking, but largely passionless, reminder that the bird's not out of the cage just yet" ★★★  For their first anniversary, the new King's Head Theatre is opening 2025 with the world premiere of Firebird. Adapted from the 2021 movie by Peeter Rebane and Tom Prior, itself adapted from the 1993 memoir by Sergey Fetisov, this production rounds the circle by bringing it to the stage in a play by Richard Hough. Firebird tells the story of two young military men, a pilot and a private, who begin a forbidden affair on their base in Soviet Estonia. It's a classic illicit love story, nothing particularly groundbreaking, but it doesn't need to be: its subject matter is important enough, and as relevant as ever. Sergey (Theo Walker), a private completing his national service, and Roman (Robert Eades), a rising-star officer, are the centrepiece of this cast of four. Their story is orbited by the “Comrade Colonel” (Nigel Hastings) and their close mutual friend Luisa (Sorcha Kennedy), though actually all four of them are as underdeveloped as each other. Sadly that's a casualty of the 90-minute runtime and ambitious chronology. Despite the political backdrop and the undertow of menace throughout though, it's a gentle story that follows Sergey and Roman's secret love through the years to its poignant conclusion. It's all fine. A heartbreaking, but largely passionless, reminder that the bird's not out of the cage just yet. Great swathes of the world still have to live like this, wings clipped. However, the skyward mix of lust and love in this production comes a bit out of nowhere and quite randomly; and the interesting question of how the characters perceive their own sexualities before and after is never explored – are they closeted, confused, or enlightened at the point of that fateful first kiss? It doesn't really matter as that's not what it's about, but it might have added some psychological depth, which is otherwise lacking and traded-in in favour of a longer timescale. There are moments though where the bird almost ignites. There's the quiet eroticism and anticipatory tenderness of Roman (Eades) peeling an orange for Sergey (Walker). It works in this silent, tense, and fragrant scene, but it could have had a gut-punch passion that we never actually see: or maybe we do see, but don't believe. Though Eades and Walker give capable performances individually, they don't have too much chemistry together. That speaks to the tone of the whole thing: it's too cautious of sensuality, feels a bit like it's holding back. Again, it's fine. But it's not dangerous or brave like the lives of these men. The same can be said elsewhere. For all of Comrade Colonel's (Hastings) deliciously clipped lines giving us an element of the Darth Sidious, there's remarkably little fear or jeopardy running through the struts and trusses of the plot. The stakes feel lower than they actually are or ought to be. It's not slow or fast, and it's neither shallow nor deep. It's fine. It is engaging, but as a whole it's just not quite taking flight. The Brutalist set by Gregor Donnelly is simple and steely, as cold as the war; it’s effective, even if some of the scene changes are somehow a bit distracting, perhaps too long and clunky, but ultimately that also works fine. And the lights by Clancy Flynn are similar: straightforward and functional, with a couple of creative moments. They're all fine as well. I'm not crazy about the dialogue. You'll find one or two decent lines – the imagery of wives and mothers in the household and on the battlefield to clear up the mess of war – and a couple of witty ones satirising the propagandist ideology, but they too seem appropriately utilitarian. The symbolism and metaphor of the Firebird itself never really gets off the ground either, in fact it seems to actively bury it; but, hey, it works for the emu, so maybe the analogy is there somewhere. So all that said, it's tricky. For me, in this instance, the firebird is more of a puffin than a phoenix. But I did enjoy it, and as always, I strongly encourage you to support venues and stories like these. You'll get a night of solid, dependable theatre. It's not heavy, but then again, it's the hollow bones that make the bird fly. So do go and see this important story, just don't expect to be set alight. Photography: Geraint Lewis FIREBIRD by Richard Hough Based on the memoir by Sergey Fetisov and the screenplay by Peeter Rebane & Tom Prior Directed by Owen Lewis Produced by Seabright Live Ltd Box Office: https://kingsheadtheatre.com/whats-on/firebird Reviewed by Alix Owen

‘Along with thrilling moments and surprising twists, the belly laughs come thick and fast.’ ★★★★ First performed at Underbelly, Edinburgh Festival, the play enjoyed a sell-out success. Now, the play has transferred to Old Red Lion in Islington it is another triumph for the cast and creatives involved. The venue couldn’t be more perfect for the show, with a history dating back to the 1400s, it is rumoured to be haunted, furthermore, the quirky shape of the playing space is used to its best advantage. Beautifully crafted by director Ben Woodhall, this tongue in cheek horror comedy is set in 60s East End of London, which gives it the timeless quality of a classic. It opens with Cockney undertaker Shaun (Edmund Morris) at work in the funeral home’s mortuary, which inducts us into the context. Enter assistant, Robert (Louis Davison), a superstitious Irishman from whom we learn the story of The Grim. If you ever see one, your life is in danger. There is no shortage of gallows humour between the pair as they discuss the terrible homicide of three young women and a copper. Their horror fascination is sparked by the anticipation of the serial killer, Jackie Gallagher (Harry Carter), arriving on the slab having been shot in the face. The horror begins. The arrival of the dead man, complete with a small gunshot wound, is extremely well achieved. There are plenty of moment in the play when the audience must suspend their disbelief, but this is not particularly one of them, it is a powerfully shocking moment which continues to thrill. Along with some surprising twists in the play, the belly laughs come thick and fast. Who would have thought that life and death would hinge on the small matter of a bag of sweets, in particular the strawberry bootlaces. Who wouldn’t have thought that the undertakers should just get the hell out of there, but of course they don’t, and that sets up a nice little feeling of conflict. The actors have absolute commitment to their roles and pull off quite a tricky balance between serious and humorous without losing their grip on the audience. They are helped by the design elements which give the play an immersive feel. The set is a chilling white mortician’s room, which is sometimes suffused with sound, adding a note of fear, and the lighting effects which enhance the drama at key moments. It requires attention to detail to pull it off in performance, perfectly achieved by technician Joe Hawkings and technical manager Ali Day. It’s clearly a show for enthusiasts of thrillers, or ghost stories, or horror stories. It’s not going to raise a lot of conversation, but it is jolly good fun and a perfect fit for the oddities of the Old Red Lion Theatre. THE GRIM by Edmund Morris Old Red Lion Theatre until 18 January 2025 Box Office Cast Edmund Morris Louis Davison Harry Carter Creatives Ben Woodhall – Director Joe Hawkings – Technician Hiba Medina – Costume and props Fergus Carver – Sound design Ali Day – Technical manager

‘exciting premise but the execution of the play leaves a lot to be desired’ ★★ Fresh Mountain Air promises to be a high-tension, high-stakes drama. Three women who have never met before stay in a secluded cabin for a hiking weekend, but things quickly go awry when they return from a hike to find their cars gone and their BnB host Miranda missing. With no Wi-Fi and a quickly setting sun, they have no choice but to hunker down for an uneasy night. And that’s before they learn that four prisoners have escaped from a nearby maximum-security facility… But the execution of the play’s exciting premise leaves a lot to be desired. The play’s promotional materials pose the question: Is the threat outside the cabin or within? The answer, regrettably, is neither. Inside the cabin, we have three women: Alyssa (Juliana Galassi), Leslie (Olivia Cordell), and Kayla (Julia Thurston). Their racial, socioeconomic and geographic differences do cause some tension – Alyssa’s audacity to be from Houston is an early stumbling block – but these moments of friction never spill out into anything more serious. At no point does it feel like one character might turn against the others. Outside the cabin, there is in theory a serious threat: the unending stream of escapees from the maximum-security prison that clearly doesn’t live up to its title. However, at no point does it truly feel like the women are at risk of a prisoner breaking into the cabin, as the forest outside the cabin’s interior – where the play’s action occurs – never feels real. The set, in fact, feels wholly disconnected from the outside world. When Alyssa peers out the ‘cabin window,’ it is hard to suspend disbelief and buy into the idea that she’s not peering into the audience. On top of this, most of the casualties in the play are characters we never see and lack any meaningful connection to. Miranda’s disappearance, for example, might have created some sense of peril had we actually met her. Thematically, the play serves up a smorgasbord of topics central to modern American politics: Trump, guns, racism, sexism, the healthcare system, the school system, the geographic divisions of the US, illegal immigration, and legal immigration. However, the exploration of these topics often feels shallow, with the play mistaking outlandish remarks for meaningful commentary. The central theme of the play, guns, comes to the fore when Alyssa finds Miranda’s loaded gun in a kitchen drawer. Here, the play offers more substance, exploring the sense of security guns can offer, the silent support for the Second Amendment, and how a liberal’s aversion to firearms can quickly go out the window when they feel threatened. The play also tackles head-on the devastation guns can wreak, even when they’re in the hands of a well-intentioned person. However, the play fails to stick the landing here as many of the plot beats leading up to Alyssa’s ill-fated choice to shoot the gun twice stretch credulity. To give one example, we learn that an unlucky UPS driver – the victim of Bullet Number One – got shot in the chest, staggered back to his truck, drove twenty miles to a police station, gave an account of where and how he got shot, and then promptly died. For all its flaws, there are still things to enjoy in this play. There were many moments of humour early on in Michael Eichler’s script, with Cordell’s snarky lawyer getting the best gags. Also, as a Lana del Rey fan, I can’t fault director Penny Gkritzapi’s choice in music. Fresh Mountain Air by Michael Eichler / Drayton Arms Theatre / 14 – 18 January 2025 

'holds plenty of potential for highlighting trenchant themes, but misses the mark' ★★ ½ In 1897, up-and-coming playwright George Bernard Shaw had a smash hit—a run-away success that netted him his largest earnings to date, and established his name as a box-office draw. No, not Pygmalion , not Candida , not even Mrs. Warren's Profession . It was a now little-known historical drama called The Devil's Disciple , an exploration of morality and hypocrisy during the American Revolution. Playwright and director Mark Giesser has tackled this forgotten script in service of the time-honoured and risky tradition of adapting a famous writer's oeuvre to a new context. He has shifted the story from 1777 to 1899, placing it in the Philippine-American War, when the islands were struggling for their own independence. ‘I decided to move Shaw’s story forward a century to the pivotal time when the United States set out to create its own empire’, Giesser explains. Setting the story in America's ‘first Vietnam’ holds plenty of potential for highlighting trenchant themes, and bringing in new ones: while the original already addressed imperialism and women's economic rights, the new setting also brings racism and waterboarding to the fore. Add to that the draw of TV star Callum Woodhouse in the lead—a point heavily emphasised in the show's marketing—and it's easy to understand the production pitch's appeal. Yet the result is not just underwhelming, but uncomfortable. Giesser's intentions are good. One, he's done his research. Two, he's tried to solve the queasiness of the original's female characters by giving them agency and jobs. The ‘silly sentimental little wife’ of the minister, Judith (Beth Burrows), is now an educated lawyer; the illegitimate child of the family, here called Isabel (Izyan Hay), doesn't fetch water, scrub soot and swoon over the lead, but rather helps mastermind the revolutionary charge. Giesser has also made explicit what the original left hinted at—that Isabel's outcast status comes not just from her parents' lack of wedding vows, but her mother's lack of a Caucasian background. Through this, and the context of the Philippines' struggle more broadly, he tries to make racism the lynchpin of the show's morality. ‘White men order black men to kill other non-white men for their benefit’, the (anti)hero critiques. Meanwhile, phrases like ‘the white man's burden’, ‘our little brown brothers’ and the locals as ‘half devil, half child’ fall glibly from the less-sympathetic characters' lips. The issue is that this subject remains entirely constrained within a very white and (strangely) very English drawing-room comedy, one where who-is-flirting-with-whom usually feels more vital than the supposed atrocities going on outside. Never once does the threat of violence feel real. Never once do younger son Elias's (Enzo Benvenuti's) war crime confessions cause true outrage. And painting the back wall with tropical flowers does not mean that the Philippines, despite Isabel's occasional impassioned speeches, truly have a voice on stage. Can you do a play consisting almost entirely of privileged people talking about, rather than with, those discriminated against? Of course. Stephen Daldry's version of An Inspector Calls put his upper-class, doll-house family amongst those devastated by war. Branden Jacob-Jenkins's An Octoroon brilliantly lampooned 19th-century ideas of race by both performing and satirising an antebellum society melodrama. In both cases, those talked about or condescended too were, in some form, present—whether visually, or in the identity of the performers themselves. Not so here. Nor is the show helped by its old-fashioned staging, which constrains the actors in fussy historical costumes while leaving them little choice to but to act in an arch, heightened style. Almost no one seems comfortable in their American accents. Yet apart, perhaps, from the linguistics, none of this is the cast members' fault, who acquit themselves with competency and bursts of charm. Indeed, both they and Giesser seem most comfortable when they can lose themselves in Shawian wit, whether original or added for this adaptation— ‘Naked aggression without compensation isn't the American way!’ gets a particularly loud early laugh. When the jibes start bouncing, the production finds its flow. A satirical flourish at the end, too, is satisfying. It's a shame the production as a whole feels too hollow to allow these moments of fun to truly hit home. Photography: Lidia Crisafulli BOX OFFICE Cast Richard Conroe: Callum Woodhouse Judith Prestwick: Beth Burrows Adele Conroe: Jill Greenacre Paul Prestwick/General MacArthur: Richard Lynson Elias Conroe: Enzo Benvenuti Isabel Conroe: Izyan Hay Creative Team: Writer/Director: Mark Giesser Costume Designer: Alice McNicholas Lighting Designer: Sam M. Owen Set: Intellectual Propery Stage Manager: Honor Klein Publicity: Chloé Nelkin Consulting (Saffron Bailey) Videography: Erica Belton Marketing: Cup of Ambition (Grace Chapman, Isabel Dixon) Graphic Design: Clara Marcus Sound: George Sztuka Photography: Lidia Chrisifulli Set and Lighting Assistants: Mollie Cheek, Matthew Ly

'a gentle, nuanced look at the UK schooling system, and how it fails … '★★★★ A siren screams, crimson lights flash and a student sprints out and starts scrubbing blood off their hands—is this a detective thriller, or a modern retelling of Macbeth? Neither (although Macbeth does pop up later). It's the start of a gentle, nuanced look at the UK schooling system, and how it fails those in quote-on-quote deprived areas in general and non-binary people in particular. The Belly of the Beast is writer Saana Sze's debut full-length play and the winner of 2022's ETPEP Award. As the Finborough's first in-house production in years, it's also a script that the theatre has obviously thrown its trust and weight behind. For a venue that frequently champions new writing, the choice makes sense: this is a densely written text, its 90 minutes consisting of two clever, packed monologues. They function in parallel and succeed in weaving together a wealth of plot and information. Writer Sze has actually worked in schools, and it shows. Their sketchings are on point and funny. From ‘Miss, you're boring’ to ‘How're you gonna try to light a whole teacher on fire?’, the pupils at the ‘really, really bad’ schools in question are sometimes endearing, sometimes terrifying. The focus is on non-binary student-turned-teacher Martha, with Sam Bampoe-Parry and Shiloh Coke playing them at different phases of their life. Bampoe-Parry, a recent LAMDA grad, plays YoungMartha as a skittish teenager, one who feels uncomfortable squeezed into traditional girls' clothing but doesn't quite know why. And its not just the concept of gender fluidity with which this Martha, raised in a religious family, is unfamiliar—the idea of non-heterosexual attraction, too, seems outside their comprehension. YoungMartha lights up when describing a crush on a female teacher or holding hands with best friend Gia, but doesn't connect the dots. ‘If I was a boy, I'd fancy her’ is as far they go. Bampoe-Parry does an excellent job of playing someone on that cusp of self-discovery, who ends up in precarious situations while never letting us forget that they are, well, a child. NowMartha, meanwhile, wears a binder, has a devoted wife and seems sure of their values and identity. Until, that is, they are confronted with the rigid hierarchies and categorisations of the UK schooling system. ‘I really, really want it’ they say about their new teaching job—so ‘I let them call me miss, even though every time it feels like chipping away at me’. Coke's portrayal has emotional weight, while mining the quoted side characters for their full comedic worth. What connects both Marthas is a fear of confrontation, a weakness for taking the easy route. Their respective betrayals—of their loved ones, of themselves—give the play some much-needed narrative tension. Director Dadiow Lin also keeps things flowing and shifting nicely in designer Delyth Evans's flexible set. Still, there's no hiding that writer Sze is cramming in a lot of information. In some ways, The Belly of the Beast is as a much a dissertation against the UK schooling system as one individual story. The pamphlet handed out with the show underlines this, listing facts and figures to show how the ‘UK system is deeply entrenched in binary frameworks’. The structure of parallel monologues further restricts the theatrical possibilities. Would interactions between the two actors have worked with the concept? I'm not sure, but I occasionally found myself yearning for them. Yet The Belly of the Beast captures our sympathy and attention from beginning to end—a testament to the nuance and care brought from all sides of the cast and creative team. Images: Ali Wright BOX OFFICE  Cast YoungMartha: Sam Bampoe-Parry NowMartha: Shiloh Coke Creative Team Playwright: Saana Sze Director: Dadiow Lin Set and Costume Design: Delyth Evans Lighting Design: Arnim Friess Sound Design: Max Pappenheim Stage Manager: Oli Fuller Casting Director: Elizabeth Sweeney Producer: presented by Clarisse Makundul Productions and Neil McPherson for the Finborough Theatre