Reviews

’Too many un-focussed ideas’ ★★ Paige is looking to cause some chaos. She and others are climate activists and road closure to a countryside sanctuary is their latest effort to show themselves and hopefully get others to understand and agree with their view of the world. On this day, however, Paige encounters Eddie who is holding a memorial for his late brother. Eddie doesn’t like Paige. Paige doesn’t like Eddie. The perfect set up for the world premiere of John Webber’s Fire Fire. The two hander is performed in the Arcola’s studio theatre and following their initial ‘meet cute’ the duo continue to bump into one another - not implausibly - and their conversation widens. We learn that Paige and her partner are at breaking point and that she had a challenging upbringing. Eddie is divorced, has a daughter and is looking for more to his life - and his health is deteriorating. Paige, a young woman of colour and Eddie, a middle aged white man from Essex are natural ‘opponents’ but who find common ground through talking and thinking - and understanding what drives the other. In a neat if slightly uninspired step-stage and lighting that adds more than it takes, Fire Fire has all the ingredients to be a thought provoking meditation on how opposites can find common ground & goals in light of personal and global differences. But, for a number of reasons, this just doesn’t work. Both performers work hard and well. As Paige, Gabrielle Brooks (so good a few years back in Get Up, Stand Up!) is a little too one note whilst Chris Simmons’ Eddie has greater depth and you believe his lived experiences. Indeed, all the best bits are when they are talking to one another. Much less good are the singular turns to the audience and as we head towards the climax, the whole thing just becomes muddled and slightly baffling - too many themes, too many metaphors and it’s also about 20 minutes too long. Attempts at humour don’t land and the moments which should move the audience didn’t work for me I’m afraid. All in all, there is clear writing talent here but too many un-focussed ideas do not a great play make - and this never catches fire. Fire Fire by John Webber Arcola Theatre https://www.arcolatheatre.com Produced by Webber & Co and Metal Rabbit Productions Directed by Jennifer Tang Starring Gabrielle Brooks & Chris Simmons Images: Mark Senior

'blasting the cobwebs from Molière’s wig' ★★★★★ There’s love in the air and a wedding on the horizon. We’re in the luxurious home of Oga, a proud Nigerian family man whose daughter, Adenna will soon marry Sinclair, her Jamaican beau. However, this joyful news is eclipsed by the arrival of Pastor Blake, whom Oga, a religious man, welcomes like Christ himself. “To know him is to know God.” But is this pious pontificator in a dog collar, fond of spouting Biblical verse and offering advice, all he's cracked up to be? As we watch him ingratiate himself into the heart of the family, the audience witnesses the power of belief, machinations of manipulation and the cost of blind faith. Written in 1664, Tartuffe , a satirical comedy by Molière, France’s Shakespeare, was scandalous at the time for its mockery of the Catholic church. Some demanded Molière be burnt at the stake for this play. Over 400 years later, this fantastically funny production, according to Marylebone Theatre’s Artistic Director, Alexander Gifford is both “a revival and new play.” Tartuffe (Remixed) is the inspired brainchild of writer/director Darren Raymond, AD of Intermission Youth Theatre, and Mark Rylance, acting royalty and also a founding trustee of Intermission Youth Theatre. Transposing the narrative into an African-Caribbean household is a masterstroke. Adherence to religious values and the importance of Pentecostal or Charismatic church communities is a colonial throwback and still features large within the African diaspora. It’s a wholly convincing alternative to the original scenario of a French priest among Catholics. Here, where God matters and his servants hold great status and sway, a white Anglican vicar in an all-black community would be welcomed and (largely) trusted, even if he arrives with no possessions and his suit looks a bit shabby. Mark Rylance as Pastor Blake, the amoral imposter, fuses pantomime villain with Dick Emery’s vicar. Shifty as they come and dodgy as hell, there’s no end to his wickedness. With sticky-out teeth and a cloying quality, he’s the type of antagonist an audience loves to hate and wants to see punished. Rylance, “a wolf in shepherd’s dress,” gleefully embraces his role as the token white man and a baddie at that, in a super-talented all-black cast that dazzles across four generations. All the actors in this show and many of the production team are part of the Intermission family and either trained with or supported the youth theatre through workshops or mentoring. Usifu Jalloh's Oga, the patriarch rules his home with unyielding authority; his eyes glitter with Christian zeal. Morenike Onajobi gives a magnificently regal, kick-ass performance as Kemi, the bride’s best friend who can see what others cannot. Suzette Llewellyn is magnetic as the devout, bible-hugging Grandma. While it goes against the grain to have such a busy cast, the intergenerational energy is raucous, authentic and gives many opportunities to play out shifting dynamics between father and son, mother and daughter, husband and wife etc. At times of fraught division, it’s like an outtake from the Jerry Springer Show - but much more glamorous. Designer ULTZ, Maybelle Laye (Associate Costume Designer), and Shola Ajayi (a British Nigerian fashion designer) co-create a gorgeous rainbow cavalcade for the traditional Yoruba Wedding. Honouring the original format of rhyming couplets in iambic pentameter, the fresh text is chopped, sliced and mixed, like music sampling, intercut with Afro-Caribbean vernacular and street talk. It’s funny, entertaining and accessible. While reading the original synopsis of Tartuffe: turgid, convoluted and complex - you may lose the will to live, this new version blasts the cobwebs from Molière’s wig and electrifies the original narrative with new relevance. In this age of the forked tongue, we are saturated in fake news, duplicitous presidents, Ai-generated commercials, and The Traitors. Tartuffe, the Imposter , to give the original its full name feels entirely relevant and Tartuffe (Remixed) is a cautionary tale of appearances that deceive and words that lack sincerity and the truth of this message will resonate across generations.  At Marylebone Theatre until 24 October BOX OFFICE Director & Writer: Darren Raymond Designer: ULTZ Lighting Designer: Simisola Majekodunmi Sound Designer & Composer: Duramaney Kamara Associate Costume Designer & Costume Supervisor: Maybelle Laye General Manager: Wild Yak Presented by Marylebone Theatre, Patrick Myles & David Luff & Shakespeare Road in partnership with Intermission

‘ Kicks things off with considerable pizzazz ’ ★★★ ½ Fifty years after Riverside Studios opened with a production of Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, Flywheel Theatre Company brings the play back to the same stage as part of its five-play “Rep: Radical Classical” season. Five actors, five plays and five weeks mark Riverside’s 50th anniversary – and The Cherry Orchard kicks things off with considerable pizzazz. Chekhov’s premise remains intact: aristocrat Ranevskaya returns from Paris to her family estate to discover that its beloved cherry orchard must be sold to pay the family’s debts. While the play depicts a fading Old Russia amidst profound social change, Flywheel retains these cultural references while paying clear homage to the 1970s Britain in which Riverside first staged it. This is the production’s strongest and most distinctive choice, sustained through its staging, lighting and costumes. Radio broadcasts refer to the Winter of Discontent; a dance macabre becomes a fifteen-second disco complete with glitterball; and Ranevskaya, usually a glamorous faded aristocrat, becomes a more androgynous figure in tailored suits and a flamboyant cow-print coat. Casting Lopakhin as a woman creates a particularly effective parallel between the self-made businesswoman and estate-owner Ranevskaya. Both wear gloriously colourful suits and even share physical mannerisms, emphasising their status as representatives of competing worlds while increasing our sympathy for both. Maggie Bain is excellent as Ranevskaya, maintaining her charisma as the household’s emotionally warm but financially irresponsible matriarch. She moves convincingly between affectionate mother, naive lover and scornful judge of both perpetual student Trofimov and Lopakhin, whose plans for the orchard she cannot bear to contemplate. Yet the production’s condensed seventy-minute runtime sometimes works against its emotional weight. Ranevskaya’s recognition of Trofimov as the former tutor of her deceased son Grisha, for instance, passes so quickly that it feels almost glossed over. The same problem affects Trofimov and Anya, who have too few moments together for their romantic connection to develop fully, despite charming individual performances. Cash Holland gives Anya girlish warmth and serene innocence, while Jaemon Anthony Crosby’s Trofimov is funniest when his intellectual self-importance collapses: mortified that Anya has repeated his lofty claim to be “above love”, or snapping at Lopakhin to “Stop waving your hands about!”. Rachel-Leah Hosker, to her credit, has embodied this particular mannerism so exhaustively that the audience rather agrees. Crosby and Elliot Pritchard’s Gaev make an excellent pair of confused, forlorn men attempting to become voices of reason in an equally confused household. Jessica Temple brings moving loyalty to Varya, while Conor Dumbrell makes an impression as Dunyasha despite appearing in only a handful of scenes. Paul Bentall’s Firs, meanwhile, is perhaps the production’s most faithful link to Chekhov’s original world: a weary, overlooked servant who reminisces with fond frustration about Gaev’s childhood antics. His physicality – the limp, stumbling steps and determinedly upright posture – is especially convincing. Translating Firs’s final frustrated “nyedotyopa” as “bungler” neatly captures his contained anguish as the play closes and the cherry orchard disappears. The production’s greatest moment, however, belongs to Hosker, when Lopakhin reveals that she has bought the orchard herself. Initially she folds inward, announcing the purchase almost confessionally. But after Varya drops the household keys before her in contempt, humiliation erupts into an outpouring of remembered grievance. Hosker brilliantly conveys the competing triumph, shame and resentment of someone whose family once served on the estate and who now owns it. The staging sharpens the cruelty: Ranevskaya’s family may have lost their home, but they still have one another. Lopakhin, victorious, stands alone. Not every element of Flywheel’s concept fits so neatly. The mixture of Russian references and a 1970s British backdrop occasionally feels disjointed, and the brief disco sequence, though charming, arrives with little context. Yet this layering also gives the production the quality of a theatrical time capsule: Chekhov’s 1904 Russia refracted through Riverside’s 1970s history and viewed again fifty years later. The set reinforces that sense of memory, resembling a grandfather’s living room, with three rugs and a solitary chair that becomes the household’s designated place of reminiscence. Ranevskaya, Gaev and finally Firs each occupy it as they recall what the orchard once meant to them. Each actor gives a convincing performance, and the production is strong even if its seventy-minute condensation could use more breathing room to allow its emotional relationships to develop fully. As a first glimpse of Flywheel’s Rep season, however, it is undoubtedly successful. After the curtain call, Jessica Temple sincerely thanks the audience for supporting Riverside and theatre, encouraging everyone to return for the rest of Rep, “if nothing else to see if we make it to the end.” Well, I wish I could – and I hope they do.  The Cherry Orchard at Riverside Studios until 12 September, part of Flywheel’s Radical Classical Rep Season running until 10 October Box Office: https://riversidestudios.co.uk/whats-on/u1Z-the-cherry-orchard/ Cast Jaemon Anthony Crosby: Trofimov Conor Dumbrell: Dunyasha Cash Holland: Anya Rachel-Leah Hosker: Lopakhin Jessica Temple: Varya Maggie Bain: Lubov Paul Bentall: Fiers Elliot Pritchard: Gaev Creative team Adeyinka Akinrinade: Producer, Veritas Productions Benedict Esdale: Artistic Director, Flywheel Theatre Nik Haukohl: Associate Producer Mercy Ola: Assistant Producer Jack Dugan: Creative Associate Rebecca Ward: Video, Costume & Set Designer Lauren Vickers: Stage Manager Fran Cattaneo: Casting Director William Dunleavy: Dramaturg Brett Kasza — Lighting Designer Anna Wood: Sound Designer Miranda Mazzarella: Photographer Rebecca Thomas: Graphic Designer Nell Rose: Costume Supervisor/Maker Isobel Jones: Design Assistant Catalina Tudorache: Costume Assistant Thespis Theatrical Costumiers: Costume supplier Cup Of Ambition: Marketing

‘ a recognisable satire of the ultra-rich ’ ★★★ The number ‘2.36’ is associated with the size of the average UK family, an interesting namesake for a play that is about a distinctly not average British family. At nineteen and twenty years old, Josh and Kiera “Kiki” Carrington have only ever known a life of immense privilege thanks to their grandfather’s real estate empire. Grandfather’s status casts a large shadow over the play, much like their lives. Tonight, the siblings have been reunited in Luxembourg, their father’s birthplace, for a family business-meeting-cum-holiday. At least, that was the plan. Now faced with the evening alone, Josh and Kiera must instead face each other, the nature of inheritance, and their own personal responsibility. What follows is an hour of family debate surrounding the roles of gender, legacy, obligation, and expectation regarding their respective birthrights. A disagreement over their Luxembourgish roots is the first indication that Josh and Kiera have clashing worldviews. Josh feels a deep connection to a country of people he praises with a host of adjectives like ‘well-bred’ to avoid the one he really means: ‘wealthy’. Kiera, on the other hand, is ashamed to think their family history is tied to local tax laws that allow the global 1% to hide funds and exploit developing countries. This one dispute proliferates into non-stop disagreements about the world, capitalism, and their own relationship. Through these conversations, 2.36 condemns the hypocrisy and insidiousness of virtue signaling as much as the selfish greed and evil of economic conservatism. Unfortunately, the lack of detail in the script means this critique falls somewhat flat. The scope of the family’s wealth is unclear, as is the nature of the financial dealings that are only obliquely referenced. The family’s wealth seems to have no practical bounds, yet Josh’s insecurity compared to those with greater affluence is a critical plot point. Inconsistent details are invoked to serve the script’s purpose at any given moment more so than to reflect a well-established outside reality and family history. 2.36 is a recognisable satire of the ultra-rich and Josh and Kiera are recognisable characters. They bear striking resemblance to the Roy siblings in Succession as much as the Rose siblings in Schitt’s Creek. They share the same sarcastic combination of intellectual self-awareness paired with the complete delusion of the entirely out-of-touch. 2.36 succeeds in finding its genre and is most memorable for its humour. The jokes on the page are brilliantly brought to life thanks to exceptionally winning performances from both Anoushka Cowan and Elijah Lifton. Still, without anything to do or characters to interact with - save one off-stage waiter who provides desired comedic fodder - Cowan and Lifton can only go so far. Their characters feel frozen and the audience never learns about the siblings via their encounters or as they move through the world. Our understanding comes entirely from what they themselves tell us, which remains unsatisfying. Josh and Kiera articulate traits and dynamics we do not see. The script suffers from a lack of plot and action. Information is revealed with the same ‘tell-don’t-show’ dialogue. The waiting that provides the engine for the play could be the ideal backdrop for a transformative night, but instead fosters an experience of stagnation. Given the short run-time, 2.36 never drags, despite the lack of action. Rather, it maintains its laugh-out-loud comedy throughout. It is entertaining, if inconsistent. Some moments feel aimless, others feel laser-focused. 2.36 is clear in its intention and is an open invitation to laugh at the delusions and narcissism of the most highly privileged, a humour that can be satisfying or grating depending on the audience. Marigold Productions presents 2.36 at Circle & Star Theatre in Hampstead through till 10 September. BOX OFFICE: https://www.tickettailor.com/events/circleandstar/2267745 Written and produced by: Anoushka Cowan and Elijah Lifton Directed by Guy Rapacioli and Jessie Millson Dramaturgy by: Ruby Isaacs Sound design by: Belle Bao Costume design by: Izzy Rigby Presented by: Marigold Productions Patrons: Richard Bean & Anna Ziegler

 ‘...riveting, wound-parading monologue’ ★★★ The woman before us has no name but a story to tell. Agitated, wild-eyed and manic in her movements, she tries to make sense of and pick apart where her marriage and relationship failed. As we track back through the relationship, dipping into fairy tales, Disney, Celine Dion, the Bible and female archetypes, fact blends with fiction, fantasy crashes into reality and the audience considers this impassioned version by a narrator who may not be wholly reliable. LAMDA-trained writer and performer, Henri Merriam, gives an emotionally charged, physical performance in this 75-minute, wound-parading monologue, originally presented in 2025. Her body, expressions and voice are fully utilised to attack her raw subject matter. She experiences bitter disappointment and quiet devastation when her partner fails to meet her needs. As they falter and drift, “the house is cold but our bed, colder,” her humiliation and rejection is as fresh and painful as Eve being slung from the Garden of Eden for independent thought - and this comparison is made. He does have a name. Tom is a blokey, traditional cattle farmer to her flighty, highly-strung actress persona. He is represented by a series of flat, disinterested voice-overs. He meets her obsessive traits with retreat and stoicism. She teaches him numerous words of more than two syllables including "facetious" and "incompatible." This detail, an aside really, makes her character seem patronising and less likeable. For Valentine's Day, he buys her a gooseberry bush - 'sharp, spiky, prickly and bitter' - because it reminds him of her. She should have realised then. Or perhaps when he hit the bird with his car. Or… If this were a reality TV show, the audience would be shouting: ‘Don’t do it! He’s not the right one.’ When he gets all antsy because she won’t change her surname or performs a volte face on the issue of having children, these red flags are willfully or idealistically ignored. There’s nothing more tragic than an unloved or scorned woman and this sense of betrayal and loss is toe-curlingly conveyed. There is life after divorce, one can be fun, and after all the turmoil experienced by the audience, a greater sense of clarity and learning would have lightened the conclusion, which feels more self-indulgent than self-reflective. Monologues by their very nature give one interpretation or perception. This is their joy - and can be their agony - depending on whose head an audience finds themselves in. Here, the performance is riveting while the narrative, sometimes overblown or florid, is challenging. We see a woman obsessed with love and blinded by its force. She thunders headlong into her first meaningful relationship only to find herself in a strange land, misunderstood and unheard, with a stranger who speaks a different language and both are trapped in something dysfunctional. All the feminist theory in the world can’t negate the fact this is an ill-matched coupling and that there are two victims, which makes you wonder how it would fare as a duologue in another iteration. Whichever way you look at it, love hurts. Ain’t that the truth? There Is a Light and a Whistle by Henri Merriam at Hen & Chickens Theatre from the 8 – 13 September Writer and performer: Henri Merriam Director: Sophia Capasso Sound Designer: Frazer Merrick Designer: Shahaf Beer Producer: Marcello Pautasso London Technician: Emily Wilson Presented by Play Nicely Theatre Photography Credit: Scott Golding Sub-Edited by Harry Speirs

“This masterpiece deserves an audience, so go out and give it one.” ★★★★★ What a night at the Opry-a. Assume from here on out that the cast are supremely musically talented. The skill and sheer range of each is stunning and had the effect of making a small London venue measure itself in acres. This is something both cast and crew will have to get used to as there can be no doubt that Oil and Whiskey is going to be very big indeed. You have been warned. Book now or commence the TodayTix pre-grovel. In fact, this show boasts so many names in future lights that energy saving measures should, at the very least, be considered. Before going into individual performances, a full line of credit must be extended to the band and background singers. As well as being spectacularly gifted, they are at the heart of things and work so effortlessly alongside the cast that it was staggering to learn that they only joined for the London shows. The staggers continue as this is, in fact, a play of multiple debuts and the first offering by producer, musician and writer Kit Nolan, who we will so obviously be hearing from again that it feels like he’s already talking to us. Paired with the excellent and already-much awarded playwright Dax Wiley, this formidable writing and composing team bring some much-needed country joy to a post-Dolly world. Producer Alexa Karas’s brilliant stewardship makes this possible and we have her to thank for bringing the show Brit side. So, to the cast, a group of spectacular performers who came together in a room in North London and created glum’s opposite. Firstly, Juliet Perel in a remarkable performance as Zelda, a down on her luck Pulitzer aspirationalist, dismissed from the New York Times to work in a bar, and condemned to meet up with the one that got awry, a former flame who left to make it as a country star. Perel is nothing less than exceptional, imbuing Zelda with wit, charm and vulnerability. Her ability, outstanding, her connection to the audience, palpable. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Cornelius Versa has a wonderful turn as love interest/sometime Nashvillain of the piece, Teddy. Re-entering Zelda’s life with an ain’t-you-just-the-darndest-thing swagger, his portrayal of flee-the-scene boyfriend never enters fuckboy territory. Admittedly his one-man aria decrying prophylactics might tip in that direction, but Versa brings a real emotional depth to the character elsewhere and ably resists pastiche. And that voice. If there was a smarter word for triple good with cheese on top, then it would describe Sarah Giulianti, who dazzles as Zelda’s best friend Bree. Her vocals, presence and comedy chops are fabulous, and she is obviously having enormous fun in the role. Her withering put downs, excellent dance moves and the love she has for her friend bind the whole show together. A standout duet with bartender and self-appointed narrator extraordinaire Ray deserves particular praise. Who is Ray you ask? An outstanding KJ Nugin as it happens. Part compere, part Bourbonic confidante, Nugin has an audience of Northern Line eye contact dodgers gamely “hollerin and swallerin” throughout. It was, I’ll concede, more than a bit moving to see such collective joy on display and Nugin’s ability to bring this forth was outstanding. Nugin’s talent and nuanced performance cements Ray as the show’s moral compass. It really couldn’t get better. At this point, you know I like it, right? Well, that is in large part due to Yuval Benit’s superb direction and choreography, that deftly weaves the honk to the tonk, and brings together the performances, music and movement into something unforgettable. The chemistry between those on stage is clear, as is a match-fit readiness that, once again, is astonishing given the changing faces since the Edinburgh and New York runs. Benit is clearly another star in the making. As to other matters, there’s a level of light touch audience interaction that gives attendees a level of non-squirmy involvement and those concerned about volume could consider getting their Loop’s out as the show is concert loud but that didn’t seem to bother Saturday’s audience. All told, Oil and Whiskey is a word of ear hit and a sparkling monument to hee-haw, built on the strongly Partonian principles of fun, warmth and acceptance. This masterpiece deserves an audience, so go out and give it one. BOX OFFICE https://weareoldred.co.uk/whats-on/oil-whiskey/

'One is taken back to the great cinematic moments' ★★★ ½ Well, what a delight this was. Having begun its active life at the wonderful Mill At Sonning, Tam Williams’ Still Life has been transported to the gorgeous bar at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane and re-invented itself as a ‘come and have a nice afternoon tea with a bit of immersive theatre’. Often this type of thing doesn't work - but this does. A preclude to what became Brief Encounter, Still Life is a moving study of ‘ifs and buts’ and is quintessentially Noël Coward. The play is all about the silences, the looks and the quiet moments but, before this, we find ourselves seated either side of the glorious Grand Saloon Bar to indulge in a generous and tasty afternoon tea. For the record I had English Breakfast Tea and the mini sausage roll was the highlight - I could have had a bowl of them. After a convivial hour of eating and chatting, a railway guard (Antony Jardine) enters with a ukulele and a gentle intro to the action begins. A small catastrophe arises when the sleek Laura (Rachel Pickup) catches some grit in her eye and, fortunately, there is a doctor in the house and Alasdair Craig’s Alec sorts her out. There is an immediate but gentle ‘something’ between the pair which we see fully bloom across multiple scenes across an extended timeline. Both are married, both have children but there is an overriding sense that a real love has taken hold. From Meeting 1 to Meeting 2 - both taking place in the waiting room - there has been a cinema trip and a lunch and the pair are clearly besotted but in a typically understated Coward-esque way. Their relationship progresses and then - at a key point - so very slightly falls apart. There is an inevitability about what plays out and how it plays out but the journey is still very much worth it. The central performance from Pickup as Laura is a highlight - she is mannered and precise whilst exhibiting both joy and utter desolation when required. Craig’s Alec feels a little overly pushy at times and lacks the nuance to make us really feel for him and his situation - but the duo work well together. Their scenes are interspersed by some charming music and amusing moments from Jardine, Elizabeth Elvin as the cantankerous but hugely funny Myrtle and some standout vocals (plus trumpet and keyboard paying) from Seren Sandham-Davies. One is taken back to the great cinematic moments within Brief Encounter and, indeed, the stage play from a good few years back by the great Emma Rice. The location here was iconic but, unsurprisingly, there were issues with sight lines and, more troublingly, sound as the high ceilings drowned out key moments. But, this was a joy and, as a friend and colleague noted, wouldn’t this work well in a real life railway waiting room with the trains roaring by like life itself....... Bob and Co. & Wild Pursuit Theatre present STILL LIFE by Noel Coward Theatre Royal Drury Lane Grand Saloon Bar Catherine Street London WC2B 5JF Tuesday 8 - Saturday 12 September BOX OFFICE Still Life | LW Tickets There are two performances each day Afternoon Tea is served at 12noon Performance starts at 1pm or Afternoon Tea is served at 3pm Performance starts at 4pm Running time of ‘Still LIfe’: 60 mins Tickets: £75 Image: Rachel Pickup Photo by Andreas Lambis

‘Nicola McAuliffe gives a tour-de-force masterclass’ ★★★★★ Hard to imagine how Annie Wobbler could be better revisited than in the Finborough’s present production, fresh from a triumphant run in Edinburgh in August. Nicola McAuliffe, who first performed the play back in 1983 and for whom it was written by Arnold Wesker, gives a tour-de-force masterclass in bringing three women at different life stages into existence. It’s a performance big enough to entrance a 1,000-seat auditorium, but part of its sheer joy comes from being able to see from a few feet away in the Finborough’s intimate space a top-class actor seeming effortlessly to infuse her characters with joy, pain, hope and really quite alarming rage on the turn of a phrase, the flicker of a thought on McAuliffe’s ever-expressive face. The rest of the production’s pitch perfect too – a set populated by mannequins, wigs, bric-a-brac suggesting its characters ordered and disordered lives. The show starts with Anna, a young woman just out of university, the first of her generation and female to boot, beginning, with optimism and trepidation, to explore the possibilities life is offering her. A boyfriend from a higher social class and better university who patronises her dreadfully but seems to offer opportunity (and voiceovers from Alex Jennings to represent smug self-satisfaction never hurt any show). There is perhaps a slight adjustment required for the audience as McAuliffe arrives (it takes a moment or two to visually resolve whether this is a young woman or an older one clinging to her youth) but the mixture of yearning and underlying awareness that life has not often been unmixedly good for women of Anna’s class is beautifully written, perfectly mined for its pathos and wit. Odder is the middle segment, in which Annabelle, a writer, is seen in two incarnations, perhaps bipolar personalities – a drifty, dreamy Irish lady (who nonetheless knows the value of a million dollar contract), and a fierce, combative, energetic Scots author who has no truck with idiots and provides some genuinely terrifying moments of anger. The shift from Anna to Annabelle, including near invisible costume change, is another perfectly achieved theatrical effect – this is a show with a great script, a superb performance, and all the technical stuff so ideal it almost goes unnoticed. Annie Wobbler herself fills the last part of the play – an older woman, unkempt, in need of a bath, who cleans where she can to scrape a living and is found with her trolley in Waterloo Station, musing on her life and where it went until the station closes. It should be and is heartrendingly sad – this is a woman who thinks they didn’t quite put her together right and for whom opportunity has never knocked – but Annie’s spirit and joy in small things makes hers a life less ordinary, too. It’s one of the things with theatre, unlike film or TV, that performances live only in the mind. Seeing Nicola McAuliffe, just gone 70, inhabiting the characters she created when she was under 30 merely makes me wish I’d seen them back in 1983 as well. Sheer joy. Box Office: https://www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk/productions/annie-wobbler-revisited Production Images - Credit: Ella Carmen Dale  Reviewer David Weir is the author of The Westminster Mysteries novel series, including The Honourable Member for Murder. Plays include Confessional (Oran Mor, Glasgow), Murdering the Truth (Greenwich Theatre, London) and Better Together (Jack Studio, Brockley, London).

‘technology may imagine the future, but its romance remains trapped in the past’ ★★★ You & It is a new musical from South Korea and the winner of Best Musical at the 13th Daegu International Musical Festival, one of Korea’s major platforms for new musicals. Its premise is immediately intriguing. After Mina dies in an accident, her grieving husband Gyujin rebuilds her as an AI. Beneath this contemporary idea sits a surprisingly old-fashioned book. I once saw a reel joking that lovers in K-dramas never have sex and that their first kiss arrives 90 per cent of the way through the series, usually without tongues. The joke works because it recognises a familiar convention: romantic relationships are often sanitised. Before Mina’s death, she and Gyujin are a perfect couple. The opening number gives us an ideal marriage rather than a specific one, Mina dies before she has fully emerged as a person. The AI version of Mina is not fundamentally different from the “perfect wife” presented at the beginning. Both versions exist primarily in relation to Gyujin’s desires. The book becomes a series of episodes illustrating his growing dissatisfaction, rather than asking why Mina, human or artificial, has been constructed around serving him. The premise seems to invite questions about whether technology can reproduce humanity, but the question remains largely unexplored. Even the ending, in which Mina removes herself from Gyujin’s life, completes the patriarchal fantasy. Her final act is another service performed for him. The perfect wife proves her love through self-erasure. This returns the musical to the tradition of shinpa. The word literally means “new school”, rather than “new wave”. The form originated in late 19th-century Japan and entered Korean theatre during Japan’s colonial ruling over Korea in early 20 th century. In Korea, the term eventually became associated more broadly with highly emotional melodrama, often driven by suffering, impossible love and female sacrifice. Technological imagery may make the story appear contemporary, but its idea of love remains rooted in the familiar spectacle of a woman suffering beautifully for a man. You & It reproduces that emotional machinery without interrogating the gender politics beneath it. Nonetheless, this production has clearly been made with care. Lucy Park, appearing as Mina in place of Frances Mayli McCann at this performance, and Zachary Pang as Gyujin perform with warmth and commitment, while Esther Jun’s direction is assured. Most impressive is Adrienne Quartly’s sound design. The balance between the live musicians and the performers is exceptionally well judged. The involvement of English-language lyricist Ricky Allan, alongside dramaturg and additional lyricist Yojiro Ichikawa, also demonstrates an effort to adapt the Korean work for a British stage rather than simply transpose it. But clarity of execution cannot supply the complexity missing from the writing. Music in a musical must do more than sound beautiful. Too often, the songs in You & It simply restate emotions we already understand.  Its technology may imagine the future, but its romance remains trapped in the past. EG Musical Company & MCG Productions presents YOU & IT by Seoeun Oh and Q Lee at King’s Head Theatre 7 – 26 September 2026 BOX OFFICE https://kingsheadtheatre.com/whats-on/you-and-it-cs41 Cast & Creatives Cast Frances Mayli McCann | Mina Zachary Pang | Gyujin Creative Team Seoeun Oh | Original Writer Q Lee | Original Writer, Lyrics and Composer Esther Jun | Director Yojiro Ichikawa | Associate Director Bob Sterrett & Lu Herbert | Set Designer Lu Herbet | Costume Designer Jonathan Chan | Lighting Designer Adrienne Quartly | Sound Designer Minje Lee | Art Director Ben Dackerman | Production Manager Gangwon Boo | Artwork Designer Minkyoung Park | AI Tech Director Ricky Allan | Lyrics Ben Armstrong Casting | Casting Director Yojiro Ichikawa | Dramaturgy and Additional Lyrics Amy Hsu | Musical Director/Musical Supervisor Ara Cho | Planning & Production Producer Eunggyu Lee | Executive Creative Producer Danny Khan | Production Photography