In Conversation with: Gabriele Uboldi & Samuel Rees

1968. Three thousand students occupy the London School of Economics, in the most significant act of protest in a generation.

2023. Two friends and flatmates try to work out what radical change means today, searching through archives, photos, first-hand accounts.

Everything’s connected: from the Prague Spring to MLK Jr’s murder, the Paris riots to the Nigerian Civil War, and it’s all converging here and now.

Lessons on Revolution is a daring new piece of documentary theatre. It is a gripping and immersive journey through global and personal history which asks: in a new age of inequality and injustice, how can the voices of the past give us hope? Written and performed by both Gabriele Uboldi & Samuel Rees, we sit down with them to hear more about their upcoming production.

Lessons on Revolution is part of Soho Theatre‘s upcoming Soho Rising 2024 festival, a celebration of new work created by comedians, writers and performers who have taken part in their Writers’ Lab, Comedy Lab or Cabaret & Drag Lab programmes. Buy tickets for the show here, at Soho Theatre on Tuesday 13th February.

What inspired you to create “Lessons in Revolution,” and how did the events of 1968 serve as a catalyst for exploring contemporary issues in your theatrical production?

Samuel Rees

Sam: 1968 was a year in which anything could happen. The future seemed like a hopeful place. I wanted to explore the imaginative energy of that moment, where new worlds were conceptualised, and power structures seemed to be collapsing. We all live in the promises of those failed revolutions, they haunt us. 

The project is an act of collective imagination. We imagine together that it’s 1968, and 2024, and 2070. We imagine that we’re in the flat Gabriele and I live in, that we’re in LSE, that we’re in a theatre. We use the show to create all these tiny moments of shared imagining. We try to build this space to think about different possibilities, to be inspired, and to consider the potential of the present moment.

The play draws connections between historical events like the Prague Spring, MLK Jr’s murder, Paris riots, and the Nigerian Civil War. How did you navigate the complexity of weaving these disparate narratives together, and what insight do you hope the audience gains from these interconnected stories?

Gabriel Uboldi

Gabriele: Our strategy is to embrace the complexity of connecting all these events. The show is not a history lesson—rather, it’s the story of how these disparate narratives resonated with us when we were living and writing this play in a squalid London flat. Our first-hand experience of the housing crisis became the nexus around which all these other stories are spun. Just as we drew inspiration from history to deal with our own predicament, we hope that our audience too can discover that radical ideas from the past might offer new perspectives on the struggles of today.

The show’s blurb mentions the exploration of radical change in the present day through archives, photos, and first-hand accounts. Can you elaborate on the process of researching and integrating these elements into the production, and how they contribute to the immersive experience for the audience?

Sam: This is a show about creating a show, and we’ve tried to make that a dynamic process to witness. You’ll see us grapple with the research material, with struggling to fill in gaps, with things not saying what we want them to say. There’s a real-time conflict between two people trying to construct a piece of art with a shape and elegance to it, and the historical material’s refusal to bend into a certain structure. In some ways, this is done to humanise us; we’re not experts, and we’re approaching this stuff as non-experts. So the research process is very much part of the story we tell.

When we saw “Lessons in Revolution” in 2023 we described it as a “thought-provoking” piece of documentary theatre (as well as awarding you 5 stars – congrats 😉). In what ways do you aim to engage the audience intellectually and emotionally, and how do you balance the documentary aspect with the creative and theatrical elements of the performance?

Gabriele: When making the show, we talked a lot about ‘bringing the archives to life’. What I mean by that is that theatre offers us the unique opportunity to bring history into the present through performance. Re-enacting past events onstage allows us to uncover their real stakes and tensions—and suddenly history reveals itself as a collection of real-life choices and human dilemmas. So it’s both intellectual and emotional at the same time—it’s history made into a thriller, as Sam and I piece together the events and we ask the audience to help. Oh, and thanks for your lovely review! 😊 

As we enter a new age of inequality and injustice, how do you envision the voices of the past offering hope to contemporary audiences? What do you hope viewers take away from the experience in terms of understanding their role in shaping the future?

Sam: I think there’s a difference between providing hope and providing an answer. Without giving anything away, there’s this act of democratisation at the end of the show. We hand over agency to the audience, and the temperature of the room shifts at that point. We want to remind people that we all exist in this room together, in the same universe. And that the days and weeks and months and years following this moment haven’t been decided yet, they’re up for grabs, just as they were in 1968. So from our point of view there’s no pithy sign-off that wraps things up neatly, just an assertion that it’s down to all of us. I think that’s a small but extremely powerful idea.

Lessons on Revolution is part of Soho Theatre‘s upcoming Soho Rising 2024 festival, a celebration of new work created by comedians, writers and performers who have taken part in their Writers’ Lab, Comedy Lab or Cabaret & Drag Lab programmes. Buy tickets for the show here,

Lessons on Revolution is part of Soho Theatre‘s upcoming Soho Rising 2024 festival, a celebration of new work created by comedians, writers and performers who have taken part in their Writers’ Lab, Comedy Lab or Cabaret & Drag Lab programmes. Buy tickets for the show here, at Soho Theatre on Tuesday 13th February.

REVIEW: Blood On Your Hands

Rating: 3 out of 5.

An interesting setting and relatable characters, regrettably hamstrung by over-busy production

Blood On Your Hands is a new production from Patch Plays, exploring the impact of protesting vegan activists from the perspective of the meat industry’s “forgotten victims”: its workers. Kostyantyn (Shannon Smith) is a fish-out-of-water in more ways than one, having fled Ukraine in the face of impending conflict, forced to work as a slaughterhouse worker to raise enough money for his family to join him (despite being a trained vet in his native country). He’s scared and overwhelmed, but also funny and caring, making it easy to root for his success.

On his first day, Kostyantyn meets Dan (Phillip John Jones) – an experienced hand at the slaughterhouse – who takes the him under his wing. It’s Dan who teaches Kostyantyn to use moisturiser to mitigate against frequent handwashing, and to hide noise cancelling headphones under your PPE to block out the butchery (“scream like humans, don’t they”).

Although I was worried the play might be thinly-veiled vegan propaganda, Kostyantyn’s charisma and likeability ensure the audience empathises on both sides of the debate. And whilst it is true that the author’s position is very obvious by the time the curtain falls – what else would you expect from a play called Blood On Your Hands? – this doesn’t feel forced or get in the way of the wider narrative.

The play is at its best in its more intimate scenes – Kostyantyn and Dan snatching a conversation in the break room; Dan’s run-ins with his vegan activist ex; strained phonecalls with Kostyantyn’s wife (Kateryna Hryhorenko). Here, the skilful script and cast really shine, putting together a likeable and fleshed-out band of characters. The audience is further drawn into Kostyantyn’s life through expert sound-scaping and lighting, zooming into an often claustrophobic world.

Unfortunately, these intimate moments are often not given the time they need, and this is the biggest problem Blood On Your Hands faces: trying to get too much done in its 100 minute runtime. The narrative is laced with flashbacks and flashforwards, juxtaposed alongside news footage of Ukrainian conflict and vegan protests, which can overwhelm the audience as their attention is dragged in multiple directions. With a good editor, some flourishes could be stripped away to paint a more impactful picture.

Nowhere is this more evident than in a climactic slaughterhouse scene. With blood dripping onto the stage floor, and a real violence to the actor’s motions, this is a genuinely sinister scene. But the sense of dread is punctured as protest slogans are shouted in from outside the compound, which then mixes with glimpses of Kostyantyn’s wife back in Ukraine. The result is a scene equal to less than the sum of its parts, and what could have been a standout moment becomes a blurred mix of ideas competing for the audience’s attention.

Blood On Your Hands illuminates some interesting and important issues – from the exploitation of migrant workers, to the mental health of slaughterhouse employees – but things are never given enough time to breathe and realise their full impact. As a story of friendship overcoming adversity, Blood On Your Hands is a success, and it is a joy to see Kostyantyn and Dan become closer over the course of the play. But for Patch Plays’ loftier aims of promoting inspiration and reassurance surrounding animal welfare, this production falls a little flat.

All the ingredients are all here for a standout production, but they get lost in the shuffle as they jostle for attention. Blood On Your Hands plays at the Southwark Theatre Mondays to Saturdays until 3rd February, with Tuesday and Saturday Matinees

REVIEW: HMS Pinafore

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Chuckle-worthy but set sail into some choppy waters

Being my first experience of opera, and perhaps not being the target audience, the recent HMS Pinafore production in Oxford left me with mixed feelings. The cast were clearly talented and performed an authentic showcase of a Gilbert & Sullivan classic but some of the lyrics were lost to my untrained ear. This however did not seem to matter as the plot was straightforward enough to follow and the notes being hit very impressive. 

Previously my only experience of this story was from an episode of The Simpsons called ‘Cape Feare’ where Sideshow Bob is asked by Bart to sing the entire score in order to stall for time – a classic and a must watch! HMS Pinafore is a comic opera with music & story written by Arthur Sullivan and W.S. Gilbert which opened in 1878, London. It is a story of a mismatched love between a captain’s daughter, Josephine (Georgina Stalbow) and a common sailor Ralph Rachshaw (Lawrence Olsworth-Peter) which concludes with a twist delivered by Buttercup, a bumboat woman with a secret that is equally surprising and bonkers all at the same time. You can imagine the story is very much of its time (dare I say outdated) and comments mainly on class and a little on patriotism (as a young British person, this doesn’t sit right with me anymore!) It did however has some comedic moments which were a bit more slapstick in style with a drunk Navy officer and the Ship’s captain played by Matthew Siveter who stole the show in my opinion. His comedic timing and stage presence were a highlight and he has truly mastered getting a laugh out of the audience. 

The sound quality of the venue posed some challenges as at times the dialogue and lyrics were muffled and with the cast being un-mic’d meant that the audience’s ability to hear at time would have been hindered. I, myself was sat reasonably close to the front and struggled at times so I can imagine it being quite difficult for some members of the audience to engage fully with the production. 

As I say, there were some bright spots in among these challenges and the performances were strong, showing considerable skill and dedication to the stage show. 

REVIEW: Beethoven’s Symphony No.5

Rating: 4 out of 5.

The RLPO were not afraid to be bold and dramatic, or soft and emotional when called for, making for a highly dynamic experience

It was a night of adventure at Liverpool Philharmonic Hall, with chief conductor Domingo Hindoyan leading the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra (RLPO) through Beethoven’s heroic Egmont, Op. 84 Overture, Richard Strauss’ fantastical tone poem Don Quixote, and into the ‘fate motif’ of Beethoven’s immortal Symphony No. 5, naturally bound to be the showstopper of the evening. Also part of the orchestra tonight were Emerging Fellowship Musicians Danny Cleave on double bass, and Méline Le Calvez on clarinet, who will undoubtedly continue with bright careers in music.

The Egmont Overture was a stirring beginning; first performed in 1810 for Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s play Egmont, the piece brings together the story’s overarching themes of righteous rebellion, freedom, and loss, with Beethoven’s personal anger at Napoleon’s unjust dominion over much of Europe. Hindoyan and the RLPO brought out the subtleties of the piece in a highly dynamic performance; quiet, slow minor chords to express the tragedy of the story building into grand fortissimo and a rousing, triumphant finale as the hero becomes a martyr in a valiant stand for freedom. 

I did wonder over the choice to sandwich Don Quixote, which is longer but arguably less impressive than the 5th (though this may be a matter of personal taste), between two of Beethoven’s most iconic pieces, but thematically it complements the Egmont Overture perfectly – following the often sad and unsuccessful adventures of the eponymous hero, a crazed knight living in an illusory world of undying chivalry and romance. The technical mastery of RLPO throughout this 45-minute continuous piece cannot be underestimated and they breathed real life into the piece. With the wind machine softly adding to the ambience, the rolling landscapes of La Mancha, Spain, that set the backdrop for the story, appeared to me with remarkable clarity. 

The solo cello, composed as the voice of Don Quixote himself, was performed beautifully by Norwegian Jonathan Aasgaard and was my personal highlight of the score. These mournful passages gave a different depth and sadness to the tale of the ‘knight of the sorrowful countenance’, juxtaposing perfectly with the triumphant brass fanfares of his imagined victories. Of the three solo instruments written to be the voice of Don Quixote’s squire, Sancho Panza: viola, tenor tuba, and bass clarinet, Ausiàs Garrigós Morant’s bass clarinet solo was the standout. I unfortunately felt that Nicholas Bootiman’s viola solo, a famous aspect of the piece, got a bit lost in the third variation and didn’t bring out as much of the individual character as it could have. The final variation also felt as if it ended quite abruptly, and though it may be called ‘sehr ruhig’ (very quiet/calm), that was not the way it was conducted here.

It is hard to find something new to say about the finale, possibly the most famous and certainly the most recognisable symphony of all time. Hindoyan launched right into the first motif with what I’m coming to see as his characteristic vivacity, and all four movements seemed to fly by, which is a credit to the beauty with which it was performed as well as a result of Hindoyan’s energy and pace of conducting. The lyrical, more emotional nature of the second movement in andante was not lost, however. Throughout the whole evening, it held true that the RLPO were not afraid to be bold and dramatic, or soft and emotional when called for, making for a highly dynamic experience and bringing out the narrative of each piece.The transition between the third and fourth movements in Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, where the key shifts from minor to major for the grand finale, was performed so seamlessly that I almost wondered if I’d missed a trick, and I couldn’t help the smile of joy on my face during the final crescendo. The orchestra finished to several minutes of rapt applause and whistling from the audience, who I’m sure eventually filed out feeling the same sort of high as me.

REVIEW: Leaves of Glass

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Chilling and enthralling as we examine our understanding of truth and perception

Phillip Ridley’s Leaves of Glass is written to challenge our understanding of the world, where the perception of seeing so much of each other’s lives can lead to the perception that we know so much. Leaves of Glass sets out to usurp expectations and question what we think we know.

We’re introduced to Steven, performed by Ned Costello, as a successful, stoic, albeit tense man in his 30s. Steven can do no wrong in the eyes of his mother, Liz (Kacey Ainsworth). In contrast, Debbie has little patience for Steven’s brother Barry. Barry, (Joseph Potter) introduced as a recently recovered alcoholic with his head in the clouds, hardly able to hold down a job working for Steven’s cleaning company, more focussed on his unlikely ambitions to become an artist. The dynamic is apparently clear. Steven looks after Barry, even if he doesn’t always agree with him. Rounding out the quartet is Debbie, played by Katie Eldred, Steven’s wife. Debbie and Steven’s relationship is introduced as a fairly complex dynamic – we’re made to feel from the start that their relationship has been on the rocks, but surviving. Both parties test each other in early scenes but we’re made to feel like the fights are a fair match. 

The stage is set in the round, with 4 benches arranged in a square being the only mainstay of an otherwise minimal list of props and stage features. Our characters are exposed and vulnerable to prying eyes. We, the audience, feel like we can see everything. But as the play goes on this very understanding is subverted. 

The play runs for a single act, for around 100 minutes – an unusual choice, but one that feels like a stroke of genius upon reflection. At some point during the middle of the play, you find yourself feeling quite confused. The characters begin talking about things that you don’t understand. Scenes that otherwise feel quite out of place from what we’ve seen moments prior leave you scratching your head and wondering ‘Wait, how did we get here?’ This is all by design, and while initially jarring, is in fact brilliantly executed. All of a sudden, Steven’s life is unravelling amongst a myriad of accusations of bad behaviour, and Barry is on the moral high ground, appearing stable, on the brink of a breakthrough with his art career. Costello and Potter combine perfectly as our plot unfolds to show the complex dynamic of two brothers intermittently letting their masks slip to show the scars of the traumas they’ve been through together, or put each other through. The chemistry between the two actors is truly on-point, even demonstrated through some brief but wonderfully choreographed physical scraps. 

The play being a single act wonderfully increases that shift towards intentional confusion. It prevents the play from being split into a ‘before and after’ narrative, and also prevents the audience from having a break to collect their thoughts and share their understanding of what’s going on with their peers during an interval.

The final two scenes are the play’s finest, and where I commend the creative team, and Director Max Harrison. The lights go off and the scene is lit by just a few candles, as one character recounts through a deeply harrowing story from their past that deals the hypothetical killing blow to the audience’s perception of another. The atmosphere and dialogue here is unsettling, but sharp and captivating. Costello and Potter make wonderful use of the space to show their struggles for the control of the narrative. Despite the lights coming on, the final scene is equally as dark as we get our inevitably bitter ending. The sort that stays with you and you think about all the way home. 

In Conversation with: Jamaal Burkmar

How To Build A Universe is the latest production from choreographer Jamaal Burkmar. Formed of two parts, How To Build A Universe showcases Extended Play’s creative process: visually striking, mesmerising dance to intoxicating music, and improvisation with guest participants. Through a collision of music and movement, audiences are invited to uncover the elemental joy at the heart of Extended Play’s practice. Book tickets to see How To Build A Universe at The Place here.

A resident of Leeds, Jamaal Burkmar’s first creation was as a second year student at the Northern School for Contemporary Dance (NSCD) where he created a piece entitled Ocean. The work gained critical acclaim, was performed around the North until it became the first and only undergraduate commissioned to rework the piece for VERVE the postgraduate company at NSCD.

His work is about music, it’s about the world that music creates and the world that our performers inhabit because of that. In 2021 Jamaal became one of 10 new Workplace artists at The Place and has since created and toured Donuts, co-produced by The Place. Jamaal is a Work Place Artist at The Place.

The inclusion of local dancers who join the performance without rehearsal adds an exciting element of spontaneity. How did this concept come about, and what challenges and rewards does it bring to the creative process?

I was working with Phoenix Dance Theatre towards the end of 2020 in the odd little period where we were moving out of lockdown and in and out of tiers. I initially was tasked with helping the company create new work and help with the reworking of some previous pieces before lockdown. It was pretty apparent as soon as we all got in the studio though, that they and I all needed a chance to refind ourselves in the studio. Very slowly and without much notice, this improvisation process started to form in front of my eyes. During one of the weeks that we were exploring this process, the Rehearsal Director at the time Joanne Bernard, had to bring her son into rehearsals as he couldn’t be at school. From Monday to Friday, her son moved from completely uninterested to completely invested and ended up dancing around the studio with the dancers. https://www.instagram.com/p/CLgwtJLnLjN/

As soon as I decided I wanted to turn this process into a piece of work, I knew it had to have this element of participation as part of it.

Your work is described as a celebration of creation and spontaneity. How do you balance the structured choreography with the spontaneous elements to create a cohesive and engaging performance?

I describe the show as a “show about making shows” and ultimately that thread links through the structured choreography and the improvisation. It’s all about serving the greater good. All about paying service to the “thing” that we’re building together. I think that thread helps to tie all the different elements together… at least for me anyway.

The show involves dancers creating a new universe. Can you elaborate on how movement and choreography contribute to conveying the narrative?

I think the beginning of the show feels like a writer opening an empty notepad or staring at a blank white page on a laptop. Every cut and thrust on stage feels like an attempt at putting words together to create a story but not necessarily in any way that makes sense just yet. I think the movement and choreography are sequences of attempts, but not yet the complete narrative.

What do you want the audience to leave thinking or feeling?

No idea… I don’t feel like that’s up to me. I know what it means to me. I think I just wanted to make something I thought was good. I’m happy if other people want to tell me what it means.

As a Work Place Artist at The Place, how has being part of the unique associate artist program influenced your growth as a choreographer, and how does it contribute to the innovative aspects of your work with Extended Play?

I love any moment I get to sit into the back of my brain rather than at the front of it and see what’s bouncing around in that space. Being able to just listen to others and offer back is a kind of unquantifiable resource I know I’ll always need.

REVIEW: Rehab the Musical

Rating: 3 out of 5.

A talented cast, a good premise, but requiring a deeper dive into the recovery from addiction

Before you ask, no, this show is not about Amy Winehouse, or what happens to Premier League footballers when they twist an ankle. This musical is about a fictional pop star in 1999, Kid Pop (Christian Maynard), who to be fair, has the attitude of an arrogant footballer. Kid Pop (who’s real name is Neil) is sent to a rehabilitation centre, which, if you don’t know, is a residential facility where people may go (voluntarily or otherwise) to undergo a course or treatment, typically, for drug or alcohol dependence. In the case of Kid Pop, it is Glade Rehab Centre due to his choice of jail time or sixty days in rehab following a drug conviction. Kid sees the sixty days as an extended holiday before returning to his fast and loose lifestyle. However, his experience is far from a Magaluf pool party, and we encounter the very real and potentially triggering topics of addiction and mental health during his stay. All this whilst Kid’s Manager, Malcom Stone (Keith Allen) is plotting how best to rejuvenate Kid’s career, at any cost to his wellbeing, and keep the cheques coming. 

With Music and Lyrics by Grant Black and Murray Lachlan Young and Book by Elliot Davis, utilising the lived experiences of Grant and Murray, who were manager and musician (respectively) in the late 90s. Until branding differences saw their label dropping Murray and Grant checking himself into rehab. Grant writes in the programme that with his experience in rehab it is “the people that moved me, and made me feel it had everything: laughter, tears and hope”. I feel this is what they have aimed to achieve with the characters they have created and the journeys they experience. We see elements of all three yet there are some aspects, in my opinion, preventing this musical from reaching full flight. 

For instance, I didn’t feel emotionally invested in the lead character, Kid Pop. In fact, I felt (strangely for a 2-hour performance) we didn’t get enough time to fully experience his arc. It almost felt at times that there was too much going on to actually have enough opportunity to see the shift in Kid without it seeming rushed or forced. I feel with a topic as heavy as addiction, you can’t gloss over the moments of realisation and the changes in behaviour. That being said, I did feel emotionally invested in some of the other characters at the Glade Rehab Centre, namely, Phil/Phillipa Newman (Oscar Conlon-Morrey). Phil or Phillipa is in the Glade as they have a gambling addiction, and an over-eating disorder. Conlon-Morrey brilliantly captivated the audience with genuine emotion and fantastic comedic timing.  

The whole cast were incredibly strong, for instance Keith Allen as Kid Pop’s Manager Malcolm Stone a: sleezy, narcissistic, self-absorbed man, only caring about his own fortune – a brilliant casting for the former Sheriff of Nottingham. Although this time there was no chance of Robin Hood swooping in to save the day, instead a battle of wit with the delivery of quips like a flurry of arrows between Stone and his Assistant, Beth (Jodie Steele). The singing from the whole cast was at a monumentally high standard. Some of the tunes were very catchy and were made memorable by the ability of the cast. Mica Paris MBE as Martha Prosser, the Glade Supervisor, had possibly the most impressive, soulful voice I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing live. I was lucky enough to be sat merely centimetres away from Paris for multiple harmonies, which was a real privilege. Paris and Maiya Quansah-Breed, who played Lucy Blake (a single mum planted in the Glade by Stone to gather info and dirt on Kid Pop), had the most hair-raising duet ‘Museum of Loss’, belting high notes and hitting everyone to their core. Conlon-Morrey’s ‘Ordinary Girl’ raised the roof and had a few of the audience in tears. Maynard’s ‘Falling’ displayed his frankly outrageous vocal range. Jodie Steele owning the space with ‘Die at 27’, I honestly could list every song performed by the cast.

This performance joins new venue Neon 194, following a sold-out run at the Playground Theatre in 2022. Where there is some real charm to this night club and events venue, I do believe the venue and the staging slightly detracted from the performance. The flat stage on the round without staggered or raised seating meant that you might miss an important interaction, glance, or section of choreography. Additionally, the Neon 194 bar being visible throughout the performance past the stage (and being free during the interval) did seem quite an inappropriate irony considering a major theme of the show was alcohol addiction. This is not to blame the venue, drinks are available at every theatre, and they aren’t going to knock down the bar just to rebuild it at the end of the run, it just seemed a bizarre production decision to me.    

Overall, I was slightly frustrated as the talent is there and the premise is there, however, I believed it lacked that needed feeling of redemption; seeing Kid Pop heal, grow, and connect with the other Glade residents. The potential is there for Rehab the Musical to be a success, though I believe it may be quite like ‘marmite’. I found myself in a bit of a love/hate relationship throughout, although it was all love for the cast and the quite incredible and numerous costume changes ( an applaud for Teatum Jones, the Costume Designer). So should you see this show? Well, this is a fun musical, you will have moments you laugh, and you will probably go home singing (albeit far worse than the cast). But if addiction and rehab institutions are things that may be quite personal to you, please approach this musical knowing that you may be left wanting. So if your friends try to make you go watch Rehab, why not go, go go?…  

REVIEW: Afterglow

Rating: 2 out of 5.

This play might be mildly entertaining but lacks authenticity and a sense of reality

Afterglow, a play by S. Asher Gelman, follows the story of three gay men, Alex (Victor Hugo), Josh (Peter McPherson) and Darius (James Nicholson). Alex and Josh are married, and planning to have a baby together. They are also in an open relationship, which has worked up until they meet Darius. Darius is a younger man, and seems to ignite some element of sexual excitement in Alex and Josh’s relationship. The rest of the play follows Josh essentially falling in love with Darius, lying to Alex and crossing their boundaries, which predictably ends up in Josh ruining both relationships with both men, and having a breakdown during the final scene.

The premise of this play definitely has some potential. It is unusual to see polyamory and open relationships, especially queer ones, explored on stage. However I found this particular exploration to be predictable, unrealistic, and devoid of any nuance. Every relationship is different, and there was a chance here to fully engage with the idea of polyamory and to present the audience with a story which combats stereotypes and tropes. Instead, all three characters say nothing new, and we are presented with a script filled with cliches and cringeworthy lines, dialogue which felt empty, as if it was picked out of a daytime soap opera. Some topics however did hold interest such as the financial dimension of their relationships, which I would have liked to have seen explored further; the power of money and its use as a weapon vs as a tool. Sexuality and sex was a big chunk of this play. The characters were often naked, and made use of the rain-like shower centre-stage. The scenes were erotic and fun, however the choreography felt half-baked, lacking commitment from the actors, and felt out of place in the performance space – a black, reflective room with all back furniture which looked a bit tacky and basic at points.

I understand that the experience presented through Afterglow is one which many gay men have lived, and seeing queer joy on stage is great, however as a production and script, this play falls short. Further development is needed to create a captivating and more experimental presentation of love and relationships to catch up to today’s cultural scene.

REVIEW: Calendar Girls the Musical

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A funny and heart-warming tale of female friendship and courage in the face of life’s challenges

It’s the familiar story from the major hit film Calendar Girls – a heartwarming account of a group of women in a quaint Women’s Institute nestled in the Yorkshire Dales. Following the passing of one member’s husband and with the desire to fundraise for the hospital that supported him, they embarked on an unprecedented venture: creating a nude calendar. Naturally this ruffles a few feathers ruffled within the W.I. group, challenging the old traditions and making way for a new era of female empowerment. 

I thought I knew all there was to know about the Calendar Girls story, but I felt like the musical dug deep into the ladies motivations, histories, and vulnerabilities. They all had their own struggles, and tackled some hard hitting topics like body image, alcoholism, ageing and a woman’s place in society. Throughout it all they kept the humour at the forefront, and I felt truly connected to the ladies as they navigated their lives together.

With simplicity in set design, the focus is on people and community, emphasising the tight bond among the ladies. Each lady has her moment to shine through a solo song, such as Celia’s witty “So I’ve Had A Little Work Done” performed by Marti Webb, tackling the way we view our bodies and how important it is to feel comfortable in our own skin. Tanya Franks gave a standout performance as recently widowed Annie adds a heartbreakingly relatable dimension to everyday grief challenges. Her best friend provides a cheeky comic relief being the alternative face of the stuffy W.I. Lyn Paul, in the role of retired teacher Jessie effortlessly defies age and professional stereotypes. Jessie’s solo “What Age Expects” analyses the way society treats women as we age. I think we can all relate to one if not all of the women’s stories in a way, that’s what makes the show feel very special and unique. Although a lot of the subject matter is serious, it’s handled in a true northern way with a dry wit and a laugh. 

My hat goes off to all the ladies for getting their kit off on stage to re-create the infamous nude photos – sticky buns included! It was perfectly done with amazing timing from the crew & cast to not show too much, but just enough to bring the story together. 

There’s much more to this funny and cheeky story than I first thought. The characters are complex and the story is deeply moving. Even if you have seen the film, the musical is well worth venturing out into the cold for. At the final curtain the ladies all come out with sunflowers, the favorite flower of John, Annie’s late husband, it perfectly ends the incredibly uplifting and very funny story.

REVIEW: Kin @ National Theatre


Rating: 3 out of 5.

This is a visceral and arresting performance, for which I’d buy Sunak a front row seat.


Founded in 2001, Gecko are an internationally acclaimed physical theatre company, led by artistic director Amit Lahav. Kin was commissioned by the National Theatre, supported by Home Manchester, Lighthouse Poole and London International Mime Festival, and is loosely based on the story of Lahav’s own grandmother, Leah, who fled persecution in Yemen in 1932.

This production is evocative, and timely, with excellent sound design by Mark Melville, combining music from around the world to brilliantly illustrate the stories of persecution and migration unfolding on the stage. 

However, it is precisely the stories which let this production down. Moments of anguish, desperation, fear, and relief are without a doubt felt keenly by the audience, but the drama lacks narrative coherence, or indeed a clear narrative at all. There seem to be several families at points, although their origin or destinations are unclear. At times we presume we are in Yemen, with Leah and her family, but as the production goes on, where we are, what is happening, or indeed any narrative details at all become murkier and murkier.

At some points the cast are wearing life jackets, in an apparent reference to small boat crossings. Credit must be handed here to lighting designer Chris Swain who manages through his interventions to elucidate scenes like this one, which might otherwise leave the audience confused. And of course given the passage of the Rwanda bill through parliament this week, and the recent deaths of 5 migrants attempting to cross the English Channel, the message here is clear, and moving.

But it almost feels like this production is relying too heavily on the timeliness and relevance of its theme to connect with the audience, without providing us with any details onstage. The backgrounds or feelings of the characters, the context of their suffering – none of this is enacted on stage, with the result being an extremely general – if universal – portrayal of the plight of migrants and refugees.

The scenes are constantly repeated – clashes with border guards, setback after setback, families separated, reunited – and whilst conveying a truth about the perilous and frustrating journeys faced by many migrants – an opportunity is lost here to convey to the audience a sense of a journey. And as the drama wears on, no depth is added by this repetition, and the audience finds themselves wondering where the story is going, if anywhere.

The expression of the cast through mime, dance and movement is powerful, but their talent is somewhat wasted as the audience has no specific idea as to what their expression refers to, and the transitions from emotion to emotion so poorly explained.

This is a visceral and arresting performance, but it lacks coherence, and relies too heavily on the fact that migration is an issue very much in the public consciousness, to draw the audience in.

Still, I haven’t seen a drama with a message so relevant for some time. I’d buy Sunak a front row seat.

REVIEWER: Jasmine Phull