Reviews

‘a really interesting and absorbing night in the theatre’ ★★★★ “Medical science makes us all live longer but it takes no responsibility for the fact that we have to be married longer.” Dr Sealey in The Effect. Lucy Prebble is one of the best of Britain’s new playwrights, and one can imagine her work enduring. The Effect shows exactly why: an interesting story, told well, with real three dimensional people at its heart. It began life at the National Theatre in 2012, and is now getting a stripped-down production for a small theatre space at the Old Red Lion, right by Angel tube station. It’s about a clinical trial of a drug designed to cure depression, and Ms Prebble treads sure-footedly through the minefield of opinions, passions and vested interests this subject lays in her path. Two volunteers, Connie and Tristan, are thrown together; one is given the drug, the other is given a placebo. The doctors then watch to see what will happen, rather in the spirit that they might watch chimpanzees at the zoo. This being a play, what happens is that Tristan and Connie fall in love. The female doctor charged with overseeing the experiment tries to control the situation. “You’re not allowed sexual activity” she says at one point, to no avail. Her male boss is much more interested in learning from it, and shows – the author clearly feels – insufficient care for the well-being of his guinea pigs. The situation is complicated by the fact that the two doctors themselves were an item some years previously, and parted messily. The scene in which this is conveyed to the audience is a model of how it should be done. Neither character tells us the affair happened, but the awkward way they talk to each other tells is everything we need to know. Director Sam Edmunds has given this well structured play a new look, with almost no scenery, and a stage dominated by two beds. It works well: the dialogue and the actors are quite good enough to help us to suspend disbelief, and the play lends itself to being performed in an intimate space. Edmunds has chosen four excellent actors. Standout for me would be Millie Smith as Connie, all nerves and innocence at first. Shadrach Agozino’s Tristan is an excellent foil for her. Sara Odeen-Isbister cleverly conveys the turmoil beneath the carapace of efficient and detached professionalism, and Andrew Pearson-Wright is gruesomely self-satisfied as her boss. If I had a niggle about the acting, it’s that both the men have a tendency to shout too much, and too loudly for the tiny theatre space they are working in. And if I had a niggle about the direction, it’s a spotlight they occasionally turn on the audience. It hurt my eyes, and stopped me seeing the actors. I’ve never understood why some directors torment their audience in this way. Still, this is a really interesting and absorbing night in the theatre, well worth a couple of hours of your time. THE EFFECT at Old Red Lion Playhouse 30 June - 11 July 2026 BOX OFFICE https://weareoldred.co.uk/whats-on/the-effect/ CAST Connie Hall: Millie Smith Tristan Frey: Shadrach Agozino Dr Lorna James: Sara Odeen-Isbister Dr Toby Sealey: Andrew Pearson-Wright PRODUCTION & CREATIVE TEAM Director: Sam Edmunds Producer: Sara Odeen-Isbister Assistant Producer / Stage Manager: Niamh Grace Movement Director / Intimacy Coordinator: Jess Tucker Boyd Set Design: Rob Miles Lighting Design: Sam Edmunds Sound Design: Gabriel Burns Tech Operator: Ryan Kingsbury Graphic Design: Tom Murch Photography: Ali Wright

 ‘Wilkinson Wright’s incredible performance holds this complex story together.’ ★★★ ½ Some lives are remarkable but Rika, a woman in her 70s struggling with dementia, has had several remarkable lives, if only she can remember them. From childhood refugee fleeing Nazi Germany, to a young woman struggling to fit in at a kibbitz in Palestine in the early 1940s, then to raising a family in Apartheid South Africa. She is forced to grow up quickly and never stays still. But now she finds herself confused in a nursing home in England, struggling to remember who she is and who her loved ones are. Gail Louw’s script is based on her novel about her own mother’s life. A solo play, Emma Wilkinson Wright is excellent as Rika. Not only does she play Rika at different ages but voices a whole host of characters in the story, from her sister to lovers and her children. The play, especially at the beginning, is driven by Rika’s confused mind so we flit between different time periods in quick succession, before settling into a more linear(ish) story. Shrubsall’s taut direction means that this never becomes confusing. The deceptively simple set means we can go through different eras and are just about able to keep up with Rika’s hyperactive commentary. With such a full and complicated life, the play sometimes suffers from trying to cover too much ground. The final segment in South Africa, for example, could do with more exploration. But one of the play’s strengths is its unflinching portrayal of dementia and the more extreme manifestations of behaviour that can occur in certain cases; the inappropriate actions and loss of bodily functions. This is juxtaposed with a remarkable and often tragic life. Wilkinson Wright’s incredible performance holds this complex story together. RIKA’S ROOMS written by Gail Louw. Directed by Anthony Shrubsall, Starring Emma Wilkinson-Wright Produced by Oxia Theatre Playing at Tabard Theatre, Chiswick 1 - 25 July 2026 BOX OFFICE https://www.tabard.org.uk/production/rikas-rooms Photography: Paddy Gormley

‘the audience was entertained by a cabaret, cruise ship-like carnival entertainment’ ★★★ Rose coloured circus-like tents pitched on the grounds of Shepherd’s Bush Green were the chosen venue of The Lady Boys of Bangkok: Full Moon’s tour of London. Stepping into the tent feels like boarding a cruise ship, complete with a disorienting, swaying sensation beneath your feet as the grassy ground seems to sway away. For the next hour and a half, including a short interval, the audience was entertained by indeed, a cabaret, cruise ship-like carnival entertainment, full of colours, full of dazzling sparkling flamboyant costumes, full of bright feathers, sequins, leotards and lycra. The energy was high, the laser beams were sharp, the high-impact and lively catwalk amongst the audience before some of the performers reached raised platforms set in the middle of the tent, and on each side of the stage, created an immersive experience for the audience. Puppet creatures danced and jumped the night away. The music played non-stop from disco to pop music, musical theatre, club hits, and camp classics. The Sabai Pavilion turned into an entirely unearthly space, where artists and performers danced, flaunted their arms, hips, legs and long straight sleek hair, gave energetic lip-sync performances paying tribute to pop royalty such as Beyoncé, Rihanna, Whitney Houston, Kylie Minogue, and Tina Turner. One of the highlight performances was the impersonation of Tina Turner by the diva slash DJ Ole, whose comedic sketches and magician gig were a breath of ‘fresh air’ amidst the high-tempo dance tracks. Eight of the twelve performers, ladyboys (kathoeys or katoeys) have undergone medical procedures to transform their male anatomy from their birth-assigned gender into females. In Thailand, the society does accept them as a distinct ‘third-gender’ rather than transitioning from male to female. Their rendition of the song ‘This is me’ thus seems so fitting as a proclamation of their new identity and a call for acceptance. Which brought me to question, why? Why do these beings seek to occupy a role in a society that was historically not designed to leave females with many opportunities career wise? Women currently occupy merely 31% of senior leadership roles globally; in parliament women represent 27% of national parliamentarians worldwide; and of the 195 recognised countries in 2026, only 14% representing 28 countries had women as their Heads of State. Women movements are currently facing resistance from authoritarian systems globally. Perhaps these entirely distinct species performers-creatures have understood something about the female state of being, that many women are still grappling with. Perhaps these ‘third-gender’ have undergone an extreme transformation anatomically as an act of advocacy or an act of defiance. Perhaps this is again, simply high commercialisation of the female gender. Hyper commodified femininity and objectification which consumers around the world relentlessly continue to take in, for the sake of entertainment. https://www.ladyboysofbangkok.co.uk/

“A true secret recipe.” ★★★★ ½  If you fancy something different for dinner, I wholeheartedly recommend heading to The Glitch for Some Masterchef Sh*t. In this dark and delectable comedy from Liam High, two men meet for what appears to be nothing more than your typical date. Buttoned-up surgeon, Adam (Harry Freeman), and socially awkward waiter, Luke (George Miller), blunder their way through a series of clumsy questions to try to get to know one another over coffee. The dialogue is agile, believable, and naturally funny, delivered with a breezy ease by Freeman and Miller. Their conversation mixes the fantastically mundane, like jobs, home life, and TV's most memorable moments, with a seasoning of the philosophical, like gender, sexuality, and the politics of identity, all without pretension or self-satisfaction. Blending this together could easily result in a split sauce, but here we've got a fine Roux. Minor spoilers ahead if you want to keep the surprise of where this is going, but over the course of this brilliantly juxtaposed and endearingly bumbling first meeting, it’s gradually revealed through hints and suggestion that something unspeakably deviant has brought them together. Not all is as it seems with this so far relatable date. In fact, it’s not a date at all, but instead: inspired by real-life cases like the "Rotenburg Cannibal", Adam is seeking a man to have round for dinner. Literally. While his fiancée is away, he wants to explore a non-sexual and deep-seated desire to cook and eat a penis. And Luke has agreed. If the premise sounds mad, the true genius of this show is in its ability to convince you otherwise, to weave in such tenderness and relatability that the characters retain their likability and ordinariness. High doesn’t try too hard with his characters here. They stay true to the real world, with their complex desires and motivations explored delicately, and hilariously, through their evolving relationship and the very different situations that led them to this plan. Despite the subject, there is nothing flashy (and I mean that as a compliment) or OTT here, just genuine substance. It’s a one-act two-hander played out over three richly compact scenes (and whether that reflection of form with the traditional three-course meal is intentional or not is pleasing nonetheless). This is a real writers’ play: the words here are doing the work. Though that’s not to understate the direction of James Cave, who has considered all the sightlines and keeps the talky action dynamic. The transitions between the scenes is a touch wide and clunky, and accompanied by incongruous club music – though I must admit, while I'm not sure what that soundtrack is supposed to symbolise among such domestic scenes, it kind of adds to the deliciously seedy undertow, especially with its dark blue lighting reminiscent of a speakeasy sex club. Overall, think strawberry and basil or chilli and chocolate. Not everyone can make these things work. In fringe theatre, using shock subjects not to shock for the sake of it, but to handle with care and universality, is rare. High shows restraint and balance. Not too hot, not too cold, just right. So for all the fun taboo, the meat of this play isn’t really a cooked penis – it’s human connection. And while it has all the basic ingredients of a clean and simple two-hander, what we’re actually served is something entirely different. A true secret recipe. Bon appetit. Some Masterchef Sh*t by Liam High Directed by James Cave https://www.instagram.com/somemasterchefshit/

' more than poetry in motion - this is a novel in motion' ★★★★★ Joyful and exuberant, this troupe lives up to their name again. There certainly are many moving parts to this production of the lesser known Austen novel, Northanger Abbey. From last year’s Vanity Fair extravaganza , Anna Blackburn is back and she keeps her paces as naive 17-year-old Catherine Morland. Her energy is irrepressible and her expressions priceless. Catherine’s passion for Gothic novels, in particular those of Ann Radcliffe, gets her in trouble with her love interest’s family. Dominic Bryant makes a charming young reverend, Henry Tilney, who catches Catherine’s eye (also playing her brother, James, in other scenes). The cast multi-roles, clomps coconuts, and pulls out props at a frenetic pace. Sebastian Kainth performs the odious John Thorpe brilliantly, giving our heroine a pompous villain to recoil from. The endlessly talented Joanna Nevins, often sporting immense curls, is Catherine's two-faced best friend Isabella, Henry's sister Eleanor, and whatever else needs to be done, even making various instrumental sound effects. The music (Tamara Douglas-Morris), indeed, pushes the story forward gorgeously with Anais Tran N’goc’s violin entrancing all. Martin South gives a ferocious General Tilney, while dutifully yelling out chapter headings. Andy Canadine is wonderful as the generous Mrs. Allen of Fullerton and taking up various other roles. The ensemble works together incredibly well and works hard, sometimes creating visual moments of tableau vivant. Simona Hughes directs this cast wonderfully on a set comprising two multi-coloured tent structures behind a tiered-box stage (Max Batty), around which the ensemble create carriages, makeshift dining tables, and use as stairs to the top of the spooky eponymous Abbey. Dark robes and black fans evoked the Gothic, while the women’s costumes resembled Austen Regency period, as a shorthand to which era we were observing. The writing trio of Hughes, Nevin, and South know how to take a classic and compress it to capture its essence, while the cast brings the spirit and energy. In this piece they incorporated a group of modern-day students discussing the novel and the period of Austen’s works, especially the expectations of women of Regency England. This addition allows social commentary, as they note the contrast of the fear of spooky halls with the real concerns of Austen’s time of social class and women’s limited roles. There are, of course, moments that can’t be fully written in. As Catherine grabs an audience member’s electric fan, in awe, from a picnic blanket, regaling at the ‘modernities’ being shown on her utterly dull tour of Northanger Abbey, she creates her own laughs. Despite the satire, Gothic themes, and class analysis, there is such a joy in this troupe’s production, even during a heatwave at an outdoor venue! This show is more than poetry in motion - this is novel in motion. And this troupe truly can move us. Photography: Jason Harris NORTHANGER ABBEY presented by Moving Parts Summer 2026 Dates & Venues – Moving Parts Theatre Written and co-created by Simona Hughes, Joanna Nevin, Martin South Performed by Anna Blackburn, Dominic Bryant, Andy Canadine, Sebastian Kainth, Joanna Nevin, Martin South, Anais Tran N’goc (also violinist) Directed by Simona Hughes Composer / Music Director: Tamara Douglas-Morris Movement Director: Nevana Stojkov Costume Design: Anna Pearshouse Designer: Max Batty Produced by Simona Hughes, Joanna Nevin, Martin South

‘Alnwick plays the crowd with delight and gusto’ ★★★ ½ As it’s the World Cup it is quite apt that this is literally ‘a show of two halves’ - both of them full of attacking flair but perhaps not a fully satisfying and coherent 90 minutes. The Signalman is one of Charles Dickens’ most beloved ghostly short stories and has been performed widely on stage and as a radio play. Master illusionist and mentalist David Alnwick has had a long time fascination with ghosts and ghostly goings on - and with Dickens. It’s a little known fact that Charles Dickens himself once toured as a necromancer and, in the fittingly gorgeous surroundings of Wilton’s Music Hall, it seems apt that an evening of Victorian magic and storytelling can and will come together. Alnwick - unknown to me before this show - is a fascinating character. With clear nods to the great Derren Brown, he is a confident and assured performer who plays his audience as, by turns, learned confidantes and complete idiots. Dressed himself as something of a Dickensian street performer, his suitcase of tricks confound and delight for the first hour as playing cards levitate, random facts and connections are derived with that air of ‘this isn’t quite going right’ when, in fact, of course it’s part of the show. Alnwick plays the crowd with delight and gusto - all really good stuff. The final third of the evening sees our showman double down on this love of ghost stories and, with the aid of some clever lighting and mildly bombastic but engaging delivery, the tale of The Signalman and the spooky apparition who has been haunting him unfolds. The story builds slowly but precisely and Alnwick holds his crowd throughout bringing Dicken’s vivid language to life. Alnwich sets up the connection between Dickens, magic, the Victorian era and the story really nicely and yet the evening always feels like the aforementioned ‘show of two halves’. This is fine but for a smart guy performing an oft presented show, maybe Alnwick could weave these halves together to form a more clearly defined whole. His storytelling is consummate albeit that one is never really ‘scared’ and the ending feels a little underwhelming, But, this a talented performer giving the audience a good value night out - maybe not Premier League but certainly a top tier Championship offering. THE SIGNALMAN An evening of Victorian illusions and ghost stories with occult illusionist David Alnwick at Wilton Music Hall, 29 June - 1 July, 3 September BOX OFFICE The Signalman - Wilton's Music Hall

“it is great to have live music exploding on the Etcetera stage.” ★★★ Woody Guthrie was a titan of America folk music in the 1930s and 1940s. Although he is now (unfortunately) mainly remembered as the primary influence on the young Bob Dylan, who modelled his original look and sound on him, Guthrie’s life story is much more important than being a bit part player in Dylan’s life. Australian theatre company Nuworks tackle Woody’s story with great energy and little sentiment. Guthrie’s racism in his early career, the domestic violence and alcoholism, are all unflinching portrayed. Written and directed by David Dunn, the play does not sanitise his radical politics either – his communism and later civil rights work are all captured. As the title echoes, Guthrie had a sign on his guitar saying “This Machine Kills Fascists” and during World War Two, after an initial anti-war stance, he produced some memorable anti-Nazi anthems. The music is key, and the ensemble cast throw themselves into the story, from his early life in Oklahoma through dustbowl America to the New York music and left-wing scene. They also throw themselves into the barnstorming music with gusto, with some songs reimagined. Guthrie, played with great swagger by Spencer Ballantyne, had a tragic life, losing a sister and daughter in house fires, and seeing his mother suffer and ultimately die from Huntington’s disease, which he developed himself and meant he was largely incapacitated in his later years. At times the play struggles to tell the story clearly and you can get lost in the complexities of dustbowl America, the American left during the war years, and the post-war HUAC retribution. The large number of characters, Guthrie’s wives, Pete Seeger and other musicians, don’t have too much chance to develop, but of course the focus is on Guthrie, although the cast do take turns in singing lead on the songs and it is great to have live music exploding on the Etcetera stage. The talented company are alternating performing this play with one about a quite different musical era – the UK punk 1970s scene – also at the same venue and touring. Nuworks Theatre presents THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS written and directed by David Dunn Music by David Dunn, Lydia Saroto, and Michael Saroto-Noble  Tickets and tour information: https://www.instagram.com/nuworkstheatre/

‘vibrant and playful’ ★★★ “Woman Business” is ambitious. The one-person play sets out to explore four distinct stages of Diya’s life within its tight seventy-minute runtime: her time as a precocious twelve-year-old dreaming of nabbing her friend’s hand-me-down saris; her experiences as a wife and mother after moving to London; her attempts to grieve under the watchful (and often judgemental) eyes of her family and friends in later life; and finally, her time as an older woman who can no longer separate the real from the mythical, or the present from the past. In many ways, the play is reminiscent of Eline Arbo’s “The Years,” particularly in its exploration of the multitudes that exist within one person across a lifetime. There is a lot to enjoy about the play. Under Frances Bodiam’s direction, the production is vibrant and playful. The stage is bedecked with colourful fabrics. Shelton Wong’s lighting design complements this with multicoloured light sequences that are reminiscent of a disco. Similarly, Nick Wells’s sound design is lively and vivid, bringing to life soundscapes that range from the bustling streets of Mumbai to the stifled silence of a hospital ward. Above all, actor-writer Shilpa Varma’s energetic performance gives the play a much-needed dynamism. I especially enjoyed Varma’s portrayal of twelve-year-old Diya: she plays her with a gusto and innocence that made me instantly take to the character. The play also spotlights a number of themes that feel important – most centrally, the experiences of a South Asian woman navigating womanhood, migration, and family expectations. Personally, I found it fascinating to gain insight into cultural traditions and Hindu practices and beliefs that were unfamiliar to me. However, I found the focus of the play somewhat dispersed. There is a great deal introduced across the four timeframes that could have provided the fuel for a compelling piece of drama: a woman’s changing attitudes towards marriage; how someone who marries young navigates the feeling that her ambitions have been stifled; the expectations placed on widows around what constitutes “appropriate” behaviour; and mother-child relationships. However, while the play very effectively plants all of these threads, few feel developed. Similarly, it felt as though none of Diya’s relationships had the space to deepen. Soon after a potentially fascinating relationship is introduced – be that between Diya and her mother, husband, or children – the play jumps forwards in time, leaving much of that dynamic behind. As an audience member, I wanted something to hold onto and follow across the four stages of Diya’s life, but instead the different sections often felt disjointed. I was left unsure why these particular moments were the ones we were made privy to, and what the overarching dramatic thread connecting them was. Nonetheless, it is a pleasure to spend seventy minutes with Diya, particularly because of the warmth and energy Varma brings to the role.  Woman Business Jack Studio Theatre 23 – 27 June 2026 Box Office https://brockleyjack.co.uk/jackstudio-entry/woman-business/#toggle-id-3 written and performed by Shilpa Varma directed by Frances Bodiam presented by Footfalls Theatre Company Photo credit is Anna Mclaren

‘Fifty dancers become crowd, community, machine and organism all at once.’ ★★★★ ½ Stephanie Lake’s Colossus is a work of scale, pressure and collective energy. Performed by the students of London Contemporary Dance School, the piece brings fifty dancers onto the stage and asks them to move, listen and respond as one shifting body. The opening is immediately striking. The dancers stand together in a dense formation. Small gestures begin to pass through the group: a hand lifts, a head turns, a body folds, another responds. The effect is simple but powerful. The stage becomes a field of signals, each movement setting off another somewhere else. Lake’s choreography is at its strongest when the cast of fifty appears as one enormous body. Energy passes from dancer to dancer, sometimes through a small gesture, sometimes through a sudden shift of weight or direction. The group does not simply move at the same time; it seems to breathe and react as a single organism. This sense of shared impulse gives the work much of its visual power. The dancers move in waves, circles and tight clusters, forming patterns that change before they can settle. At times, they appear almost mechanical, driven by rhythm and repetition. At others, the movement feels more human, uncertain and exposed. With so many bodies on stage, precision becomes more than a technical demand. It becomes a question of trust. Each dancer has to stay alert to the space, the timing and the people around them. They must keep moving while allowing others to pass, fall, turn or interrupt. This gives the piece much of its tension. It always feels close to disorder, but rarely loses control. There are moments when individual dancers briefly come into focus. A solo phrase, a sudden break from the group, or a sharper physical accent allows one performer to appear more clearly. These moments are often short. The dancer is soon absorbed back into the mass. That return is important. Colossus is not interested in individual display for long. It keeps asking what happens when a single body is held inside a larger collective force. The most effective sections are those where rhythm gathers across the full cast. Feet strike the floor, bodies pulse, and repeated gestures become almost overwhelming. A small action, multiplied by fifty dancers, becomes something much larger: a crowd, a machine, a ritual, or a body too big to control. The quieter passages are just as important. When the movement reduces into stillness or minimal gesture, the stage remains active. The dancers continue to watch and listen. These moments reveal the discipline behind the spectacle. The power of Colossus is not only in its speed or scale, but in the attention required to hold such a large structure together. As a graduation performance, the work is a demanding choice. It gives the students little chance to hide. Everyone is visible, and everyone is responsible for the rhythm of the whole. The cast meet that challenge with commitment and alertness. There is youthful energy, but also a serious understanding of ensemble work. Colossus does not need a clear narrative to make its point. It shows how bodies can gather, separate, obey, resist and return. It makes social pressure visible through movement. The dancers become crowd, community, machine and organism all at once. By the end, the stage feels both exhausted and charged. The group has built something larger than itself and then had to survive inside it. This is a bold UK debut for Lake’s work, and a strong final statement from the LCDS students. Colossus is impressive not simply because there are fifty dancers on stage, but because those dancers are made to think, move and respond together. The result is a performance of collective force, full of pressure, risk and restless energy. Box Office