Month: March 2024

REVIEW: Chunky Jewellery

Published on by Lena HolmanLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A celebration of the nuances of womanhood, a live workshopping of life’s material

Chunky Jewellery is truly one of the best pieces of theatre I’ve seen, filled with heart-warming joy and poignant moments. It explores themes of grief, loss, motherhood, and the challenges of womanhood and aging. Co-created by Natasha Gilmore, Jude Williams, and Ben Duke (Lost Dog), Chunky Jewellery celebrates the bonds of friendship and the nuances of womanhood.

From the moment you enter the theatre, you’re met with two white curtains; able to see the actors on the other side. It feels like you are peering into Gilmore and Williams’ world, eagerly waiting to be invited in. As the white curtains part, they unveil a seemingly idyllic world, where everything appears rosy at first glance. Yet, beneath the surface lies a deeper narrative, where humour serves as a shield against life’s harsh realities. With each layer peeled back, the audience is confronted with the raw and honest portrayal of life, stripped of any illusions. This metaphorical journey from the surface to the depths captures the essence of the show’s exploration of human experiences.

Williams and Gilmore skilfully navigate this delicate balance, capturing the audience’s attention and eliciting both laughter and introspection. The prevalence of female laughter throughout the performance underscores the themes’ relatability, highlighting the deep resonance it held with viewers. The portrayal of asking for help as a woman is comically poignant, showcasing the ingrained reluctance and associated weakness to seek assistance. Watching the characters lean on one another, physically and metaphorically, pulling each other up is another strong image, illustrating the strong bond of female friendships and the beauty of women supporting each other. 

I felt like a third to William’s and Gilmore’s dynamic duo, drawn into their performance, and experiencing the highs and lows alongside them. After experiencing Chunky Jewellery, I found myself leaving the theatre, hugging strangers, and sharing tears with them. It’s a testament to the profound emotional impact of the work.

Seeing these two women play, explore, and experiment was inspiring. Chunky Jewellery is a show that is inspiring for performers wanting to create their own work. Things aren’t perfect; they are always in a state of flux, of draft stage, which is a great reminder. I love the messiness of the stop-and-start nature of the script; it reflects the realism in life. It’s messy; you can’t control what others think, feel, and how they react. It was a clever device for both performers, who would ‘start’ and ‘stop’ scenes, as though they were on the cutting room floor workshopping their life’s material.

The use of live sung voice and movement pulled at the heartstrings, evoking a raw, animalistic, and tribal mood. This added depth and authenticity to the performance, leaving a lasting impact on the audience. Particularly, I adored the use of layering, the looping of the voice, and use of props to create a soundscape to the story. Watching the two performers share the space, as they highlighted their unique strengths, Gilmore’s restless and emotive movement paired with Williams’ powerful vocals was a true highlight.

The intimate setting, despite the lecture hall backdrop, allows for a deep dive into moments of despair and joy, skilfully interwoven by the actors. Being led down a myriad of storylines felt a privilege to learn more about these actors, as they traverse the line between the ‘pretend and make-believe of’ theatre and real life, toying (in a good way) with the audience’s emotions and taking them on a journey with them.

The impeccable pacing, complemented by subtle changes in costume, ever-growing use of stage space, and lighting, ensured a seamless flow of the narrative. Signifying changes in place, the passage of time, and the portrayal of different characters, these costumes offer a refreshing departure from conventional narratives. The strategic use of lighting, technical elements, and simple props guides the audience through the timeline and setting. After the performance, I found myself reflecting on its impact, feeling grateful for the opportunity to witness such a captivating and thought-provoking piece of theatre. Chunky Jewellery deserves every bit of its 5-star rating.

REVIEW: The Wedding Party (The London 50-Hour Improvathon)

Published on by Rachel WoodLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

The actors’ reactions are whip-smart, their sense of fun the perfect marriage with an ironically well-studied and carefully honed craft

Improv is by nature an unruly beast, the genre facilitating both dizzying heights and abysmal lows of my theatre-going experiences. Let’s not forget about the particular nadir which involved my mum laughing much harder at an inebriated audience member vomiting over the row in front, bringing the performance to an abrupt end, than she had throughout the audience suggestion-based sketch show itself. When it’s good, though, it’s just about the most fun you can have in a theatre, creative spontaneity and a healthy dose of the absurd making for a ephemeral slice of comedic joy. At its best, improv is a personal, participatory adventure into the unknown, with hundreds of factors on any given night influencing a unique interplay between cast and audience, producing a work of art never to be recreated, and savoured all the more in the moment because of it.

The first two episodes of London’s 50-Hour Improvathon, an improvised sitcom comprising of twenty-five two-hour live sessions running continuously over a full weekend, were a dazzling testament to just how fabulous improv can be. Originally created by award-winning Canadian troupe ‘Die Nasty’, the London’s 50-Hour Improvathon has been running more or less annually since 2008, now back at Wilton’s Music Hall after a three year break. The event was brought to London by esteemed theatre maker Ken Campbell and since then has been produced by director Adam Meggido and Extempore Theatre as an annual event, likened to binge watching an entire DVD box-set of comedy drama in one viewing. This year’s theme is ‘The Wedding Party’, inspired by cinematic classics such as Four Weddings and a Funeral, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Mamma Mia!, Muriel’s Wedding, and Bridesmaids. One thing’s for certain in determining the fate of this off-the-cuff dramatic extravaganza: that the actors are incredibly talented, reactions whip-smart, their sense of fun the perfect marriage with an ironically well-studied and carefully honed craft. They are the very best in the business, coming from all over the world to bring a cast of characters to life that include handyman Matt Finish, socialite James Bootsen-Katsen Butsenkatsen, and journalist Anita Scoop.

Spirits are high in the iconic venue, although events on stage are guided by directorial puppet masters Meggido (Peter Pan Goes Wrong; A Christmas Carol Goes Wrong; Mischief Movie Night; Burlesque) and Ali James (PS I’m a Terrible Person; Peter Pan Goes Wrong; Showstopper! An Improvised Musical) rather than audience suggestions. These marionettes are loose on their strings, with no controlling the direction of a scene after its initial set up. Highlights include the origin story of protagonist and groom-to-be Mr. Scott’s friendship with best man ‘Norwegian conference-goer’ Bjorn Fjords, who tells us a tale of a ship that can travel over the sea, through the air, across the land, and through time. Jasper Everafter entertains with variations on a bit that he is (not so) secretly a ghost – ‘I haven’t felt so alive since I was alive!’ – and Sister Margaret strikes up a rewarding friendship with Inbal Lori’s character, ‘officially a waitress but mostly a drug dealer’, after bonding over the freely available, hallucinogenic wonders of creation – ‘Sister, let’s go to the back yard and talk to Jesus’. The spirit of Wittgenstein visits loveable rogue Mike Powell, and Julie Clare shines as Jewish aunt Becky Kvetch. 

Alex Marker’s set design is highly accomplished, immersing us in the world of Everafter Manor, with the split-stage layout allowing scenes to reach their full comedic potential. Marion Reasonable, general manager of the wedding venue, sits at her office desk on the top level while characters run desperately in to see her below, throughout a scene in which ‘members of different departments come to Marion with their problems, who solves them quickly’. Sister Margaret’s confession of a spiritual and sexual awakening is met with a brusque ‘well, keep it to yourself’, Mike Powell’s complaints of belittlement by the spirits of late philosophers are remedied with the suggestion he finds real people to fight, and Matt Finish’s alarming discovery of a giant c*ck and balls painted on the helipad is revealed to be the work of Marion herself. Episode two continues with more ghostly mischief and culminates in Scott’s marriage to Fjords in the wake of an absent bride. I’ve found myself wondering in exactly what direction the narrative has taken at various points over the past 46 hours, a full weekend ticket being the clear recommended choice for the improvisationally curious. Make sure you catch these masters of their craft next year – the Improvathon is a riotously fun rite of passage for performers and audience alike.

REVIEW: Jerker

Published on by alexnorm14Leave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A powerful, unique and rather crude piece of theatrical history

Jerker is a truly unique show that humorously combines obscenity and genuine emotion. Set during the peak of the American AIDs epidemic, Robert Chesley’s most celebrated play follows the progression of Bert and JR’s ‘dial-a-porn’ romance. This staged reading was put on by The AIDS Play Project, a campaign aiming to revive the works of writers who died of HIV/AIDS. Jerker will both disturb and surprise you in the most exciting ways. 

In no way could Jerker be called tasteful, but it is lewd and raucous in such a way as to become powerful protest art. Robert Chesley’s writing is evocative. This play, as with all his works, does not shy away from obscenity and the taboo which he lovingly combines with the real emotional experience of the queer community in the 1980s. More than half of the show takes the form of graphically described sexual fantasies and yet he is able to create relatable, human characters and to tell a meaningful story. Chesley’s writing is remarkable in its naturalism; none of it seems forced or even slightly abnormal, it is just the natural flow of conversation. 

Syrus Lowe and Adam Silver read the roles of Bert and JR respectively, with Ms Sharon Le Grand reading Chesley’s commentary and stage directions as “The Helping Hand”. Lowe created a distinctive character out of Bert right from the get go. His voice had a clear personality and his stance, even as he read the script, portrayed the flirty, somewhat reckless nature of his character. Silver is an equally gifted actor though it took longer to grasp his character; when he came out of his shell his characterization became something wonderfully sweet. As the show progressed the chemistry between the two actors bloomed beautifully. What began as feckless erotic phone calls turned to soft terms of endearment, sweet stories, and genuine love. Le Grand’s interjections brought a nice dollop of comedy to some of the tenser scenes and she was always good for a laugh. There were several times unfortunately, at which she did stumble over her words but she always played it off amusingly. 

Director Alastair Curtis made brilliant use of the set, designed by Max Allen and Elliot Alcock. The simple runway-style stage was gorgeously littered with Chesley’s pamphlets and pornography which also formed the fascinating lanterns which hung along the stage. What stood out the most about this show was the staging. The actors facing’s were symbolic of the progression of their feelings for each other and culminated in a moving series of scenes where they faced each other. The sly passing of flirtatious smiles and precious glances conveyed the adorable deepening of their connection. 

Jerker is definitely not for the faint of heart. A plot-based on the ‘dial-a-porn’ based gay relationship of two men in 1980s San Francisco manifests as a deeply descriptive pornographic tragi-comedy. The graphic nature of much of the show as well as the aberrant choices in role-playing scenarios make it very easy to overlook the artistry of what Chesley has created. Two talented actors and the lovely Ms Le Grand revived this controversial work in a fun, unique, and emotional way. The AIDS Plays Project has done theatre a service in bringing Chesley’s work back to the stage. Jerker is obscenity at its finest.

Photo by Ali Wright

REVIEW: For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When the Hue Gets Too Heavy

Published on by Beatriz Do OLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Not just a theatrical production; it’s a compelling and necessary exploration of the black male experience in today’s world

For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When the Hue Gets Too Heavy by Ryan Calais Cameron is a poignant and powerful play heavily inspired by Ntozake Shange’s iconic 1975 choreopoem, For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf. Cameron’s work, like Shange’s, follows a similar style, presenting a series of connected monologues infused with dance music and movement, all skillfully performed by a talented ensemble of six performers.

After three successful productions, the creators recognized the importance of bringing in new perspectives to embody the characters and capture the nuances and diversity of the young black male experience. This decision adds depth and authenticity to the portrayals, ensuring that the themes resonate with a broad audience.

The play’s narrative journey begins in a kindergarten setting but swiftly transitions through various scenarios, illustrating the complexities of being a black man in today’s society. The script adeptly navigates through different aspects of life, from family dynamics to friendships and romantic relationships, highlighting the stigma and challenges that race can impose in each of these areas.

One of the play’s strengths lies in its exploration of identity and the initial confrontation with what sets individuals apart in a world where comparison is prevalent. Through the characters’ stories, For Black Boys sheds light on the multifaceted experiences of black men, validating their struggles and triumphs.

Even though Act One felt stronger and pacier, the play continues to serve as a vital platform for dialogue and reflection on issues of race, masculinity, and mental health. For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When the Hue Gets Too Heavy is not just a theatrical production; it’s a compelling and necessary exploration of the black male experience in today’s world.

REVIEW: Brown Horse

Published on by Summer Bennett SteinLeave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

They’ve got a fresh spark fuelled by a reservoir of moving, tried and true folk sounds

Brown Horse has just begun its UK tour in Glasgow; they will play up and down the country before finishing off in Dublin in May. Holy smokes (as they repeat in one of their unreleased songs), catch them while you can! This sextet is fresh out of Norwich, where they met and recorded their debut album, ‘Reservoir’. 

While they are ripe with a unique zest, they thoughtfully and openly pull from a reservoir of 60s and 90s folk influences. 

The lead singer, Patrick Turner, attributed their main inspiration to 90s alt-grunge rock, especially Lucinda Willians and Uncle Tupelo. They certainly deliver in spades in ‘Bloodstain’. But the harmony of his voice alongside Phoebe Troup’s, also guitarist, creates a haunting, electrifying new sound that I can still feel vibrating in my head. Their sound is underpinned by an instrumental depth, thanks to an array of instruments and all of their visible musicality. 

Never before have I seen a pedal steel guitar take the stage, let alone centre stage. Imagine two, bodiless guitar necks lying side-by-side on a rectangular stool. I have to say this alone convinced me of their individuality. The advent of this instrument in the 1950s propelled country music in the US, in the same way it grounded Brown Horse last night, and certainly focused my gaze. An accordion and an electric piano took the stage at different points, showcasing the versatility of the individual bandmates. 

Their sound, too, traversed through fields of sorrow, but would then spring you into the clouds, much like the smoky, comforting orange ones on their album cover. This journey reminds me of Gene Clark’s in his album ‘No Other’, which similarly floats above an ocean brimming with country strings and piano.

Throughout the set, the lead singer emphasised the teamwork that went into all the songwriting. Their united front was tangible; they would exchange knowing, humble smiles between songs. They knew they were making us feel. 

Halfway through the set, an audience member clearly quite familiar with their discography, shouted, ‘play that one with Elvis’! The band seemed a little thrown – still in the early days of playing for a standing, animated room, they admitted – but knew exactly what he meant. They proceeded to serenade us with an homage to Paul Gilley, an underappreciated 50s folk singer and songwriter and member of the 27-club. The piercing, repeated lyric goes, ‘if Paul Gilley wrote the words to the saddest song that Elvis ever heard, how come no one knows this is the loneliness in the singing of the birds’. Little did I know, the much covered ‘I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry’, was written by a man who is a nobody for many. Brown Horse’s aching lyrics and harmonies remind us who unwittingly laid the groundwork for the sounds that ground us, while soaring above to reflect on a loneliness that rings bitterly true today.

While briefly allowing yourself to wallow with them and maybe even cry alongside the fiddle in ‘Sunfisher’, their energy somehow leaves you with an impetus to ‘Shoot Back’. 

If you can’t make one of their shows, which I would highly recommend – just to see a pedal steel guitar – and feel the intense affection they have for their music and each other, be sure to listen to their album in full. It’s a ‘Silver Bullet’ for even a sliver of sorrow.

REVIEW: Uncle Vanya

Published on by dougiebannonLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Trevor Nunn’s long awaited Uncle Vanya is a sumptuous marvel

Trevor Nunn has directed every Shakespeare play, and a fair few of Chekov’s. And plenty more to boot. He is Artistic Director of the Theatre Royal Haymarket, having previously been in the same position at the RSC and the National Theatre. In short, a play adapted and directed by him is an event in and of itself. That it is Uncle Vanya, a play which has so far eluded him, makes it even more so. And it pays off, in spades. The Orange Tree is just such a wonderful setting for this claustrophobic play oscillating between boredom and passion, love, tenderness and murderous rage, and Nunn’s direction is immersive placing every audience member as a fly on the wall. 

Such is the intensity of the interactions onstage that the play constantly feels pacey and well timed, the proximity of the characters before us feels like a pressure cooker about to explode. Through this, Vanya’s acerbic interactions with other members of the household feel like attempts at release that might bring the whole façade crashing down. James Lance’s Vanya is, yes, despairing but also witty, caustic and eventually tragic – he makes a dislikeable character sympathetic. But rarely are any of the characters able to enjoy the space they all so blatantly require, and this is a wonderful ensemble piece. Nunn’s direction does a wonderful job of illuminating what connects all the characters in the play: the wastage of time. Vanya feels directly placed in the action between Mikhail Astrov, 12 years younger (Andrew Richardson, wonderfully lost and inspiring at the same time) and the older Professor Serebryakov (William Chubb, who brings a wonderful pathos and understanding to what in other circumstances can act merely as Vanya’s foil). 

The same is reflected in the female characters, each a reflection of the other’s former or future self. Lily Sacofsky is an empowered and grounded Elena, as opposed to all the over-affectionate and desperate men she is surrounded with. That she finds herself falling for Astrov is almost a tragedy in itself. Susan Tracy is hilarious, if often missed as Maria Voynitsky, Vanya’s Mother. Such is the fate of the old in this play, they seem to be either forgotten, dismissed or chased away with gunfire. Maybe that’s why all the characters seem to be so preoccupied with aging. Max Pappenheim’s sound design in this regard is delicate and gorgeous – the addition of a barely audible tick of the clock as time slouches interminably onward. Lush. Completing another trio of self-reflective characters is Sonya in which role Madeleine Gray is utterly magnetic. It was in a first act scene with Sacofsky that the performance really felt as if it took off. Suddenly an engine started in the performance and we, the audience, were all along for the ride. 

This was not my first time seeing Chekov, nor my first time seeing Uncle Vanya, but it was the first time I have felt watching it that time just flew. It was funny, it was vital, it was alive, it was FUNNY! Let’s pray the days of British Chekov performances which wallow in despair without finding the humour are gone. It makes it better! Vanya’s remorse and embarrassment at the end of the play are made all the more potent because of his sarcasm and ripping humour in the earlier scenes. Nunn’s well balanced, beautifully acted, gorgeously designed Vanya was well worth the wait – and the sustained applause, which dragged Lance and Gray back out after the curtain call, is a testament to the fact. This is simply a wonderful show.

REVIEW: New York City Ballet

Published on by Alexander PearnLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A thrilling exploration of ballet’s evolution, marrying the rich heritage of George Balanchine with the fresh perspectives of contemporary choreographers

The New York City Ballet’s long-awaited return to Saddler’s Wells is a testament to its enduring legacy, combining classical roots with a contemporary twist. In their 75th-anniversary season, the company, under the direction of Jonathan Stafford, showcases a dynamic quadruple bill that effortlessly marries tradition and innovation.

Justin Peck’s “Rotunda,” set to Nico Muhly’s vibrant composition, unveils a neoclassical marvel where dancers in practice gear execute intricate moves with inbuilt speed and finesse. The undramatic feel captures the essence of daily work, creating a delightful slipstream that keeps the audience captivated.

Pam Tanowitz’s “Gustave Le Grey No 1” steals the spotlight with Reid Bartelme and Harriet Jung’s ingenious scarlet costumes that twist and blur the dancer’s shapes. As the dancers navigate Tanowitz’s ultra-specific steps, the performance takes an absurd turn, pushing a grand piano across the stage while still enveloped in Caroline Shaw’s blurred yet enchanting composition.

Kyle Abraham’s “Love Letter (on shuffle)” adds an electrifying dimension to the evening, fusing James Blake’s rhythms with a wide ranging ballet vocabulary. Taylor Stanley, a natural conduit for Abraham’s style, delivers arresting solos and a charged pas de deux with Jules Mabie, showcasing the evolution of ballet into the 21st century.

The programme’s heart lies in George Balanchine’s timeless “Duo Concertant,” a sublime duet for Megan Fairchild and Anthony Huxley, accompanied by live musicians Elaine Chelton and Kurt Nikkanen. This piece beautifully encapsulates the essence of NYCB’s legacy while embracing the future.

The New York City Ballet’s performance is a thrilling exploration of ballet’s evolution, marrying the rich heritage of Balanchine with the fresh perspectives of contemporary choreographers. The juxtaposition of classic and modern works showcases the company’s versatility and commitment to pushing the boundaries of this timeless art form.

REVIEW: Camp Phoenix

Published on by chelseajinaLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

In a time where young people are often ignored and silenced, shows like Camp Phoenix are vital

In their first UK tour since the pandemic, Zest Theatre’s Camp Phoenix made its way to The Albany this March. An action-packed show for the whole family, Camp Phoenix takes its audience along for a week-long camp designed to help seventeen-year-olds prepare for impending adulthood. Performed in collaboration with actual high school teens, catchy songs and a meaningful narrative make this show a delight to watch. 

Zest Theatre, the organization behind the show, are passionate about creating work that amplifies the voices of young people. Camp Phoenix was created though the company’s research wherein they conducted thirty workshops in Lincoln, Stockton-on-Tees, Kent, Barnsley, and Lewisham. In these workshops, nine-year-olds were asked about their fears surrounding growing up and approaching Secondary School. In turn, young people aged sixteen and over responded to these concerns with advice based on their own experiences. Zest Theatre collected this research and created Camp Phoenix as a means to spread the wisdom to young people all over the U.K.  Over six hundred and fifty young people were involved in the research of this production, and it shows: the narrative felt honest and precise, and the wisdom conveyed through the experiences depicted felt grounded and genuine. At no point did Camp Phoenix seem to over-explain or belittle its audience through convoluted and overbearing performances, as is characteristic of shows designed for children, nor did it attempt to modernise a morality play. The presence of high school students as the performers gave the performances a necessary legitimacy and added to the overall honesty of the piece. 

Camp Phoenix features two professional actors, Duane Gooden (‘Les’) and David Carpenter (‘Zia’), who help drive the narrative and support the young performers. Each venue Camp Phoenix plays in features young performers from different high schools to fill in the remainder of the roles. Watching high school actors bravely discuss issues that pertain directly to their life experience through performance was a moving experience. In Camp Phoenix, Zia arrives late to the introduction and, in a state of panic, bumps into Les, the camp caretaker, upon his arrival. Les helps Zia take a few breaths to calm down and shows him the path to meet up with the rest of his group at the camp. When Zia arrives, he is nervous and frightened, and feels isolated from the group. However, as time goes on, he comes to feel comfortable and close to this cohort. At this camp, each group must engage in various challenges to achieve ribbons that they can take home with them at the end of the week. Through these challenges, Zia’s group bonds, sharing their fears for the future and giving each other sound advice. 

Camp Phoenix is a genuine pleasure to watch; witnessing the sage insight of young people is a truly inspiring experience. In a time where young people are often ignored and silenced, shows like Camp Phoenix are vital. The future is that of the youth, and they deserve to have their say in it, especially considering they seem to know a great deal more about humanity than they are given credit for.

REVIEW: Dark Noon

Published on by Maria Mădălina Ifrim1 Comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A brutal and rawly authentic re-creation of the wild wide west with a twist

Dark Noon, hosted at Aviva Studio, Factory International is a theatrical tour de force that deftly blends humour, shock, and social commentary to offer a radical perspective on the Wild West and modern America. From the outset, it’s clear that this production is not going to shy away from discomfort, and it certainly doesn’t disappoint in challenging its audience.

The narrative unfolds from the viewpoint of those who were displaced, exploited, and victimised, a perspective rarely given centre stage. With a full cast of South African performers, the production brings a fresh lens to familiar tales, infusing them with a sense of outsider wonder and raw authenticity.

One of the most striking elements is the subversion of traditional portrayals of history and power dynamics. Through inventive staging and storytelling, the production confronts the self-mythologizing tendencies of winners and the harsh realities of capitalism. Scenes like the stealing of cokes becoming a catalyst for change and the genocide of Indigenous peoples depicted as an American football game are both shocking and thought-provoking.

The decision to have the predominantly black South African cast don blond wigs and white face paint raises poignant questions about the presentation of history on stage. Is it a nod to the historical use of blackface in American entertainment, or a critique of the current politically correct culture? The production doesn’t offer easy answers, instead inviting audiences to grapple with the complexities of representation and complicity.

Technically, Dark Noon is a marvel. The seamless integration of multimedia elements adds depth and texture to the storytelling, while attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the production. As a new shallow word literally unfolds in front of you, punctured by the introduction of modern way of transportation, you are invited to think of the transformations of the “land” while they happen in front of you. 

Language also plays a significant role, with many lines not spoken in English, challenging the audience’s understanding and assumptions. This choice forces viewers to confront their own knowledge gaps and biases, underscoring the importance of nuanced storytelling.

At its core, Dark Noon is a bold interrogation of history and its impact on the present. It asks uncomfortable questions about complicity and the ways in which we perpetuate harmful narratives. By defying expectations and embracing discomfort, Tue Biering and Nhlanhla Mahlangu deliver a theatrical experience that is both challenging and essential especially in an American election year.

REVIEW: Casserole

Published on by chriswood14Leave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A tense, intimate window into a modern, dysfunctional relationship

Casserole is the first in-house production by theatre Company Actors East. Written by Kate Kelly Flood, James Alexandrou (also the Director), and Dom Morgan. Starring Flood and Alexandrou as Kate and Dom, a couple in a dysfunctional relationship living together somewhere in London. 

Upon entering the theatre prior to the show commencing, we’re greeted with a meticulously designed set of total chaos; a kitchen/lounge/bedroom strewn with cans of Red Stripe, pizza boxes, and dirty plates that looked as though it had played host to a party the night before. Alexandrou’s character is already present on the set as the audience filter into the room, wallowing in the filth he’s created, occasionally moving to smoke or put food in the microwave – doing an excellent job of giving us some prior context into the emotional state his character is in. Credit to set designers Paulina Camacho and Paul Weedle for creating such a beautiful, disgusting mess. 

Casserole takes place over one evening, in Kate and Dom’s flat. The plot centres around the culmination of their failures at processing their own problems. These problems drive a wedge in their relationship that reaches boiling point on the night we’re with them. Kate is grieving the recent loss of her mother, suffering panic attacks in public, and Dom is unemployed, lost without a place in the world, evidently finding it to look after himself. 

Because of this, Casserole is fraught with tension. The script is a near constant stream of sadness, snark, shouting, and the occasional blunt insult. It carries well in the lower tempo moments. In exchanges where the pace picks up, the script suddenly feels a bit bloated, with the characters repeating words of confusion or dismay at each other rather than communicating properly, which feels unrealistic. 

For the most part, Flood and Alexandrou played their parts well. Alexandrou did a good job showing Dom as deflated, foolish, maybe even ignorant, but not quite malicious. Though at the points where conflict was coming to a head, Alexandrou played Dom perhaps with a little too much rage and not quite enough anguish or despair. Flood begins by playing Kate as cold, and a little unkind, but does well to convey the slow unravelling of vulnerability from the grief that Kate is feeling at the loss of a parent. At the end, you’re left pitying both characters, as the closing minutes of the performance involve both characters physically tidying up the big mess that they’ve found themselves with, not saying a word to each other, finally. A poignant closure that felt right, in its ambiguity.