Jacob Ethan Tanner’s Nurture is a stirring psychological study. This original work follows a mother grieving the loss of her child, a journalist with a past of his own, and the man who set it all in motion. Centered on how our experiences shape us and where responsibility lies, it is a uniquely grim and honest work of theater. This is not a show for the faint of heart.
Sam Stafford delivered a haunting performance as ‘The Young Man’. His awkwardness paired perfectly with the disconcerting nature of his character. His portrayal was remarkably vulnerable while also being quite snarky and amusing. Miles Henderson as ‘The Journalist’ was powerful. One of the weak points of Nurture was its somewhat limited emotional impact but Henderson more than made up for it; his performance was brutally honest, making it truly moving. Gabi Martinez made her professional debut as ‘The Mother’, overworked and facing the loss of her child. While seemingly a gifted actress, her performance was off putting; her detached, apathetic characterization did not work and seemed all the worse next to the powerhouse performances of the other two actors.
There were no fancy costumes or sets; it was just three actors, a chair, and the occasional lighting change or sound effect. This simplicity actually improved the show. It enabled the audience to really focus on the characters and what they were saying without being distracted by any extras. The intimate theatre space also helped, allowing the audience to feel drawn in and making Stafford’s breaks of the fourth wall all the more noticeable.
The characters and story of Nurture bring Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to mind. Like Frankenstein’s monster, ‘The Young Man’ seems to observe human society from the outside, struggling to understand or be a part of it. When he does interact, despite thinking he’s doing the right thing, he frightens and harms people. At its’ root, Tanner’s story is very simple but the perspectives he’s chosen to portray demonstrate a complex
understanding of human beings and suffering. His writing style is mostly very natural but does, at times, lean too much into the spectacular as though in search of that memorable line that’ll stick with the audience for years. While that one line didn’t come through, there is a particularly graphic murder depiction which will stick in my mind simply for its brutality.
Nurture reaches to the root of the human psyche and pulls out more questions than it answers.
A mesmerising ode to the eerie, uncanny, and oceanic
‘There are three types of men: the dead, the living, and those who go to sea,’ declares Ishmael in the opening of Plexus Polaire’s mystical production of Moby Dick. Directed by Yngvild Aspeli and performed in one act by an ensemble of actors, musicians, puppeteers, and fifty puppets, Moby Dick captures this third category of being, presenting the experience of the sea as otherworldly, terrifying, monstrous, and intensely human.
Puppetry, creating animate beings both human and not, controlled by people glimpsed in the shadows, who also move in a way that is both human and yet gracefully other, is the perfect medium for presenting an existence that is neither living nor dead. Moby Dick, in Plexus Polaire’s version, is less an epic narrative and more a fascinating, eerie exploration of what being at sea does to the body and psyche.
Whilst most of the whalers appear as puppets, it is the towering Captain Ahab who is the star of the show. Standing at about 8 feet tall, with a booming voice and surrounded by skull-masked puppeteers who evoke psychological torment, he has a mythical quality, uncanny and other than human. The puppetry of all the sailors is astonishingly skilful, particularly when the puppeteers were also agents in the action on stage. The human bodies became taunting phantoms to Ahab’s nonhuman body, with their skull faces alluding to a slippage between life and death. This confronted the audience with the human body as shadowy and other. What is so frightening about the sea, this production says, is that it presents shadows as our true essence. The sea disorientates the body and exposes the human’s obsessive cruelty. There is a core environmental message here, too, that it is dangerous to perceive ourselves as disconnected from nature. In failing to identify our own otherness with that of the sea, we destroy not just innocent animals, but ourselves, too.
Dazzling sequences came slightly at the expense of storytelling, which sometimes felt rushed or confusing. But I didn’t mind this as this Moby Dick was more an immersive, unsettling atmosphere than it was a narrative piece. Though the story was abridged, this production is not trying to replace the novel, rather it offers something compelling and provocative in its own right.
However, there were some striking moments in which non-verbal movement and sound took over from Ishmael’s narration. A moving whaling sequence was such an example, presenting the battle between small harpooning boats and a big, gentle whale. The whale’s gruesome dismemberment was depicted by a harrowing unravelling of the puppet, leaving its baby motherless.
The technical and design elements of the production worked brilliantly to enhance the effects of the puppetry. Elisabeth Holager Lund’s set, cleverly evoking both whale bones and a ship’s hull, gave the space a great depth and height, generally leaving its mechanisms bare for the audience to see. Keeping the puppeteers largely in shadow, Xavier Lescat and Vincent Loubière’s lighting was generally very dark, with high contrast focus on human subjects giving the impression of a dark expanse of the sea beyond. A highlight was a beautiful whale tail, illuminated incandescent blue, enhancing the undulating flow of the puppetry.
At times I felt there was a slight overreliance on videos of action, rather than presenting action onstage, but nevertheless David Lefard-Ruffet’s video projections did well to conjure a vivid, swirling sea. Moreau’s costume design was especially effective in enhancing the sense of being between living and dead, with flowing robes blurring the boundaries between humans, puppets, and waves. All combined, it was like watching both magic and its mechanisms. Seeing the ways the set, costumes, and puppets worked only served to enhance the effect of uncanny wonder, presenting both the supernatural and humanity of Moby Dick.
A special mention should go to the trio of fantastic musicians who sang haunting whaling songs and scored the play with live percussion, bass, and guitar, combined with pre-recorded effects (the mixing was notably accomplished, too). At time they were like foley artists, creating shimmering sound effects, and at others they infused the play with electrifying rhythmic energy. Singing dominated the production more so than dialogue, so their ethereal voices were integral to the enchanting soundscape.
In all, Moby Dick is a stunning and contemplative spectacle, a sure triumph.
Moby Dick is presented by the Barbican in association with Mime London.
Seventy minutes of thrilling police procedural expertly performed by a cast of three examining the guilty façade of the everyman. Criminals- they look just like you and me
An Interrogation is the debut play by Jamie Armitage, exploring answers to the question: “Do I look like a criminal?”
A three-handed play set in the tension of a police interview room. It explores a capable young woman, DC Ruth Palmer (played by Rosie Sheehy) who fights to prove her gut instinct against two older men. Her supervisor John Culin (played by Colm Gormley), and the man she suspects of committing atrocious crimes against two women, Cameron Andrews (played by Jamie Ballard).
I found the play to be gripping from the start. It was well-paced, thematically relevant and provocative. I enjoyed the cat and mouse dance of power play, intrigue and side-eye.
Sarah Mercadé and Jonathan Chan’s design lends itself well to the atmosphere. It genuinely felt representative of the monolith of modern workplace interior design- sad carpet, strip lighting and mish-mash awkward furniture. The mood created though is at once intimate. Clever sound design by Tom Foskett-Barnes enables the audience to feel immersed, with police station soundscapes of phones ringing, people chattering, and the underlying bass-baritone sound effects creating a sense of unease and anxiety once the door of the room closes. The overall effect is that the black box space of the Hampstead Theatre feels site-sympathetic. The audience forms part of the action as if they are police colleagues sat on the other side of a one-way mirror: part of the drama, but with voyeuristic separation.
The production is unsubtle in its depiction of casual sexism. It felt like we were being spoon-fed the moral of the story. Though sold as realistic, elements of the show were simply not believable. I’ve seen enough 24 Hours in Police Custody to know police interview rooms are laden with panic strips, and have enough feminine wits to know when to leave a situation. Nevertheless, the accessibility of the dialogue allowed the performers to convey the complexity and depth of their characters.
Sheehy shines through as the protagonist. She is thoroughly convincing as a modern feminist investigator, weaving the mental gymnastics her character has to pull to carry off a sensational bait and switch against the men who constantly gaslight her. She felt relatable.
Gormley takes a more restrained approach to his jovial but patronizing old sweat guv’nor role, with his character’s charming sheen only being removed at the very end of the play. I enjoyed his comic timing.
Ballard plays the controlling antagonist with ease, spitting monologues about the audacity of a millennial, paired with intense, dominating stares. He too is compelling as a character you’ve probably met in your own life. His detailed expressiveness works particularly well as part of Dan Light’s live-feed projections on the back wall of the stage. We see powerful close-ups of characters at key points, intertwined with dramatic irony with the audience seeing what gestures are being carried out under the table. A current theatrical trend, the live-feed projections work for the most part here, enhancing the static set with a sense of dynamism and urgency.
Ultimately, although I worked out the plot twist from the start, this took nothing away from the clever portrayals of characters seeking control of a situation each of them felt they were entitled to possess. You are reminded several times about the complicity of society in ignoring the inconvenient. As DC Palmer says: “people like you always get away with it”. Indeed they do. Armitage wants the audience to know that we need more DC Palmers in the world so that indeed they don’t.
First performed in 1798, this play is the work of trailblazing actress and writer Elizabeth Inchbald. It was the hit of the season at Covent Garden. Jane Austen knew the play and Lovers’ Vows featured in her novel Mansfield Park, where it was considered too scandalous to perform. Rarely produced since the 1850s, Historia Theatre Company talks about the stories behind this revival.
How have you approached the task of reviving a play that hasn’t been widely produced since the 1850s? What challenges did you face in making it resonate with modern audiences?
We noticed the preponderance of contemporary and very pressing themes such as homelessness, single parenthood and the way that women are the main victims in this regard. Based on this, it was not difficult to make the play resonate with a modern audience. The anguish of the victims in the play is dramatically expressed in a way which elicits both engagement and sympathy. And one of the main victims is a male: the illegitimate son of the homeless woman
Elizabeth Inchbald’s work was considered scandalous in its time, and even in Mansfield Park, it stirred controversy. How do you think the themes of Lovers’ Vows—family loyalty, forbidden love, and defying social norms—speak to contemporary viewers?
This gives us the chance to expand on our last answer. In a way loyalty to family is not in our view foregrounded in LOVERS’ VOWS. The baron is forced to accept that over adherence to the traditions and mores of family has been disastrous emotionally for him and for Agatha and Frederick. One of the things that the Baron has learnt in twenty years of guilt and unhappiness is that his loved ones (especially Amelia) must be given the chance to wed the partners of their choice. So adherence to social norms together with family loyalty can be stultifying and even dangerous in the effect it might have on mental health – in itself a very important preoccupation for our times. And this leaves a lot less to play with in the “forbidden love “ bracket! What is forbidden love anyway, the play seems to ask?
The play features complex characters like Frederick, who resorts to violence in desperation, and Amelia, who defies her father’s wishes. How did the actors bring out the humanity and nuances in these roles?
Both actors playing these roles are gifted and both elicit our sympathy. Although violence is never to be encouraged, we do feel for Frederick as he learns of his mother’s terrible predicament. Yet even as he raises the dagger to attack the baron, his hand trembles. And we sense he will not follow through. Again, his first thought on being captured is not for himself but for his dying mother. Similarly, Amelia has such charm in the way she manages to persuade her father to allow her to marry Anhalt (who possesses the interesting juxtaposition of low social rank and the height of virtue and decency) that we are bewitched. The actor playing Amelia does this with perfect grace. It must however be admitted that she is on a good wicket: her father already knows that he wants her to be happy at all costs, and unlike some girls, she knows that she is secure in her father’s love.
What is the significance of the historical and literary context—such as Jane Austen’s association with the play—in shaping your production? Did this influence your artistic choices?
We re-read MANSFIELD PARK as part of our preparation. While the timing of the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth is a happy coincidence, we would not say that this particularly influenced our artistic choices. Mrs Inchbald preceded Miss Austen. LOVERS’ VOWS has more in common perhaps with the dramatic traditions of continental writers particularly Kotzebue.
The play’s plot combines dramatic tension with emotional depth. How did you balance these elements to create an engaging and authentic experience for the audience?
The director was very concerned to exterminate both melodrama and what he termed a “conversational style” in the way that his actors worked. He aimed at finding the truth and he worked very hard to help the actors all find the truth in their characters. And it must also be remembered that in addition to the dramatic tension and emotional depth, there is plenty of humour. The Cottagers’ scenes are just one example of that.
A beautiful mirror into our lives on how cultural restraints can inhibit freedom of identity and the role of our perceived duty.
Flowers, Stars, and Conquerors written and performed by Nusrath Tapadar, explores the tension between a woman’s autonomy and cultural expectations. Set within a Bengali-English Muslim household, the one-woman show dives into the complexities of familial dynamics, love, and duty within the constraints of tradition.
The intimate 50-set black box theatre within the Anchor Pub immediately engages the audience into its world, with the stage hosting an empty chair, a broom, and a dupatta draped on the floor covered in tiny paper hearts in shades of pink and red, a subtle foreshadowing to the play’s exploration of both love and culture. As Nusrath Tapadar enters the stage, she exudes a childlike warmth, draped in a simple white tunic and leggings, instantly grabbing the audience’s attention. She starts by shattering the fourth wall, recounting the main character’s life as a young girl.
Tapadar consistently transforms throughout the play by embodying the text’s key female characters: her grandmother, mother, and herself as the daughter. Other characters are introduced briefly throughout, but the central focus remains on the intricate relationships between these three women. One memorable moment occurs when Tapadar’s character introduces her perspective as a young girl rebelling against going to school. The audience experiences Tapadar’s capacity for transformation as she transitions into her mother’s serious demeanor and stern tone. The moment echoes the opinion that education holds immense value within Bengali culture. Tapadar’s mother communicates this sentiment when telling her daughter, “Your education is the biggest privilege you have in this life.” Her mother’s words place emphasis on the idea that opportunities are rare and must be appreciated, setting the stage for a more considerable understanding of the complex sacrifices that define these women ‘s lives.
While the stage remains relatively bare throughout the play, Tapadar maximizes the use of space and props by reimagining their roles with creativity and intent. The broom, for example, is utilized as a household item, a sound effect, and later as a makeshift rifle. Tapadar endows each prop as an extension of the character’s experience, allowing the props to hold their own narrative weight and inviting the audience to see its evolving function.
The play also weaves in multiple languages, incorporating English, Bengali, and Arabic elements. Tapadar’s execution of these different languages is deliberate and decisive, allowing the emotions and context to resonate without the audience requiring direct translation.
Following the recurring structure of revisiting different moments within the main character’s life, one of the most emotionally charged scenes occurs between Tapadar’s character and her mother in a store changing room. When her mother requests that she wear an additional layer under her prom dress, Tapadar’s character reacts with a mix of teen angst and longing for independence. As Tapadar shifts between both characters, the audience witnesses the deep love and emotional divide between mother and daughter. A collective breath is held when Tapadar’s character reveals a stark truth: in this cultural perspective, a woman can never be truly independent, as she is continually restricted by her role as a daughter, wife, or mother – never fully owning her sense of self as an individual.
As the narrative progresses, Tapadar leads the audience through her evolving understanding of her identity. One comedic point arrives when she humorously reflects on her early realization of her queerness. This moment of levity provides a welcome relief, offering the audience a chance to laugh with her, even as they recognize the emotional weight of her journey. The play is punctuated with these moments of humor that assist in deepening the audience’s connection with Tapadar’s character while offering relief from the intense emotional sequences.
Tapadar’s character recount her life as she grows older and asserts her independence by moving away. The emotional distance between her and her mother widens as her fear of her family’s reaction to her queerness heightens. Tapadar soon discovers that her mother, in the act of sacrifice, chose to divorce her father and kept this secret from her to preserve her daughter’s idolized image of him, underscoring the theme of protection and the power of a woman’s autonomy.
Years after severing contact with her mother out of the fear of how her queerness may be received, Tapadar at the end of the play is on the brink of inviting her mother and grandmother to her wedding. One of the final lines, “I don’t want to carry the what-ifs for the rest of my life if I don’t have to,” offers a glimmer of hope, tempered by the sobering realism about the sacrifices that these women have made to preserve their sense of self.
Tapadar excels in this one-woman show, demonstrating an incredible emotional range and understanding of audience dynamics. Her vocal stamina and resonance are impressive, as she maintains a consistent resonance despite an over-one-hour monologue.
While the production quality is strong, there are moments where transitions – particularly the blackouts – disrupt the flow and momentarily pull the audience out of the experience. Certain aspects of design dissonance, particularly during the prom scene and the use of external audio and voices, feel jarring against the otherwise uniform design elements within the show. While the writing was articulate and fluid, depicting different stages throughout the main character’s life, it sometimes felt repetitive which slowed the narrative’s momentum.
Ultimately, Flowers, Stars, and Conquerors is a beautifully crafted piece highlighting and distinguishing Tapadar’s incredible talent as a performer and writer. The play resonates on a deeply human level, holding a mirror for the audience to reflect on their own cultural experience while raising awareness of women’s complex, often painful choices to navigate the tensions between tradition and identity. The audience’s emotional response, ranging from laughter to tears, is a testament to the play’s powerful storytelling and Tapadar’s masterful performance.
A charming take on a classic brought to life with a modern twist!
This week Edinburgh Univerity Savoy Opera Group (Eusog) tackles the classic musical “Singing in the rain”. A well known favourite brought to life in the beautifully designed space of the Pleasance theatre. We follow Don Lockwood a famous hollywood silent movie actor and his co star Lina Lamont as they succesully conquere the era of silent movies in the 1920’s. Set in the latter half of the era we see the transition to the talkies coming through challenging R F Simpson, the head of Monumental pictures, to consider producing a talking picture starring Hollywoods favourite on screen couple Lockwood and Lamont. Comedy ensues as leading lady Lamonts strangled voice and her inability to navigate new technologies creates all kinds of pressure and havoc for the producers. The company then have to find clever ways to overcome these problems thanks to Lockwood’s collaborator and best friend Cosmo and the talents of Kathy Seldon an actress Lockwood meets in the park and soon after becomes his love interest.
D J Bryant (Cosmo) and Ewan Robertson (Don Lockwood) take on the iconic roles bringing slapstick and vaudeville humour to the stage. Roberston’s well rounded and straight man persona balances well opposite the over exaggerated and one liners of Bryant. Bryants “make em laugh” strikes a great balance of humour as well as showcasing his talents as a singer and a dancer when comical relief is required. Tense moments between Roberston and Lina Lamont played by
Amelia Brenan are equally commical as both actors execute their scenes effectively. Lamonts refusal to believe the on screen romance with Lockwood isn’t real sees a number of witty back and forths between the characters which Robertson and Brenan execute with quick pace and wit. Hannah Shaw plays the talented actress Kathy Seldon. Her effortless vocals are impressive throughout and she equally brings a strong female energy to both characters of Cosmo and Lockwood particularly in “Good morning”. The use of the sofa to recreate this famous scene is exciting in its build up and enjoyable to watch as all three performers work hard to slickly execute the high energy required for this scene and song.
Directionally there were great choices by going the extra mile and using pre recorded footage from the silent movie “the dueling cavalier” and later when it became a talkie premiere. These added an authentic layer to the performance aswell as more commical moments. Potentially more could have been brought to the iconic and well known song of “Singing in the rain” as the stage seemed somewhat overly darkened and the use of beading hanging down in places to represent droplets could continue to prove problematic throughout the week as it did last night. However, that said the dancers supported Robertson well as he strolled across the stage delivering a wholly relaxed and water free version potentially intended to bring a more modern take on the song. The choice of set was effective and minimal with the appropriate use of microphones for the era and studio props were equally effective and well sourced. Choreography was well executed by all ensemble and leads with some modern twists on numbers introduced. Rosyln Harpers choreographical choices were in keeping with the period but also brought their own sense of individuality for some dancers to showcase their abilities and talents. Simple lifts and snappy changes using chairs and other set props were effective particualry in numbers with Robertson, Shaw and Bryant. Unfortunately, as with all opening night snags, some moments of dialogue and singing were interupted and distracted by feedback and bangs from the actors microphones although this did not desuade the energy of the cast nor the band as they gave their all in every number. Led by one of two musical directors Evie Alberti gave consistently high energy encouraging great sound from the orchestra pit. Alberti lead her 18 strong band with panache and rigour throughout never missing a beat ensuring the sound was clean and well delivered. Overall a good start to what I am sure will prove to be a great show week for Eusog once all the technical issues are ironed out. This cast of “Singing in the rain” are primed and ready to delivery slapstick humour and great singing talent for you so make sure you don’t get left high and dry this week and get along to the Pleasance theatre, Edinburgh.
Brú Theatre’s latest production NOT A WORD nobly and originally unearths an oft-forgotten detail in Irish immigrant history, but its lack of clarity unfortunately mutes its central message.
Brú Theatre’s latest production NOT A WORD nobly and originally unearths an oft-forgotten detail in Irish immigrant history, but its lack of clarity unfortunately mutes its central message.
A featured production in this year’s MimeLondon festival, the piece examines the private life of an Irish railway navvy. The navvies (short for “navigational engineers” or “navigators”) were a group of labourers, namely from the British Isles, who were responsible for building England’s largest public works projects. These communities – roughly thirty percent of which were made up of Irish immigrants – dug canals, railways, and tunnels across Victorian Britain. Their contribution to Great Britain’s social and economic growth throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries was immense. Unfortunately, it is also a history that remains quite buried.
For many Irish immigrants, becoming a navvy presented a means of escaping famine and economic decline back home. However, the working conditions of the navvies were extremely dangerous and very few made it back to Ireland. Combined with unsanitary living conditions, death rates reached as high as 500 a year. Additionally, Victorian society was quick to cast the navvy communities as a foil to the prim and proper city folk, spreading false claims about their general lawlessness and debauchery (even though there is still no evidence to back up those claims).
In this way, NOT A WORD is a fiercely relevant story at a time when anti-immigrant narratives abound, putting at risk the very communities that make these countries function. Without the navvies, there is little doubt that the Industrial Revolution would have been far less of a revolution than it ultimately was. Great Britain would not be what it is today. It is a success, in and of itself, that Brú Theatre Company has brought this story to light at the Barbican.
That said, very little of the aforementioned history would be clear to an audience member who wasn’t already familiar with it. Perhaps it’s sufficient that theatre makes its audiences curious enough to research more about the story after the show, as I did. Though, I’m also aware that I had the not-so-universal task of writing this review and therefore had to do that research. I am glad I now know more about the Irish railway navvies, but I can’t say that that is largely a result of NOT A WORD. Overwhelmingly one-noted and melancholic, this piece clearly wants to resonate after the lights come back on, but remains stuck in the muddy bog of avant-garde performance.
Some elements are standouts. The mask worn by Raymond Keane and created by Orla Clogher is the most unique part of the show. It is a real shock when Keane seemingly goes to “shave” his indecipherable beard in the mirror… and then shaves off real clay! One wonders what effect it might have on an actor to wear a blob of wet earth on his head for a whole hour. Keane makes it look effortless.
The indistinguishable features of the mask and the material of the wet clay create an ingenious symbol of all the unacknowledged navvies who were literally and figuratively consumed by the English earth, eventually fading from common knowledge. This man has no identity but rather represents the collective identity of all his fellow navvies.
The mask also impresses what seems to be the overarching design idea of the production – that of Genesis: “for dust thou art, and into dust thou shalt return.” The set and lighting design create a sorrowful, yet beautiful sense of a grave out of the protagonist’s earth-stained shanty. Every surface is smeared in dust, making his few special belongings – a couple vinyl records, a silver butter dish, a gray suit – pop out from his squalid environment.
That said, there were still too many elements that seemed misplaced or not fully incorporated. Live musician Ultan O Brien did a tremendous job underscoring the piece whilst onstage. However, the music was one-noted throughout, and it was frustratingly unclear whether Keane and O Brien were aware of each others’ presence. There were a few almost-interactions between them, but it would have been less distracting had there been a clearer directorial choice there.
The ultimate function of the mask beyond a symbol was also cause for confusion. At the end, after violently clawing all the clay off the mask’s base, Keane’s character slowly removes the mask to an intense electronic musical underscore. He places it on the ground and then, bearing his own clay-stained face, walks “outside” the house, looks in through the window, and then exits. Perhaps a general nod to the “fading away” of the Irish navvies, the moment lacked dramatic significance, because it wasn’t clear what had changed by his removal of the mask. The predominant feeling upon exiting the theatre soon afterward was that of melancholy mixed with confusion, more than any exciting link between our lives and those of the Irish navvies’.
Theatre should make us curious about history, and specifically the histories of the countless (now invisible) individuals that helped make the world we all live in today. While NOT A WORD revives the very relevant history of the navvies, its lack of cohesive elements muddies the powerful connection it could have made with its audience.
We sat down for a quick chat with Maureen Lennon ahead of her latest project.
1. What inspired you to write Mary and the Hyenas, and how did you decide to tell Mary Wollstonecraft’s story through a play with music?
I’d always been obsessed with Mary, my mum introduced me to her and her writing early on. Beverley is really close to Hull, the city where I grew up, and not many people know that this is where Mary also grew up, I felt like we should do much more to shout about that.
Then when me and Hull Truck were looking for something to make together, I stumbled across a report that showed how the human rights of girls were being compromised across the UK. Hull was one of the cities highlighted where girls were really being failed. It made me feel like Mary’s story and writing still had so much to say to us now. It made it feel urgent.
A lot of the shows I’ve written have used music and song, so it didn’t feel like an alien decision for me. Formally it felt like the music could help us do some really important things in this story, it helped the themes cut across the ages and speak to contemporary concerns, it helped us get across events of epic proportions and it helped reflect some of Mary’s energy and vitality.
2. How did you approach balancing historical accuracy with creative storytelling in the script?
That’s a good question and it’s definitely been a journey. I started out by doing loads of research. This play has been a long time in the making, and for the first few years I was just reading everything she ever wrote, and everything written about her again and again. Then the next step was almost to try and forget all that, and just try and hear my version of Mary’s voice in my head. At a certain point you have to free yourself creatively to make decisions. I would say this is play is rooted emotionally in Mary, or at least my interpretation of her, but it’s not beholden to accuracy at the detriment to our story. Sometimes it might portray something wildly inaccurate deliberately, to get us to question or look at something in a different way.
3. What aspects of Mary Wollstonecraft’s life did you feel were most important to highlight in the play?
The play takes quite a broad sweep of her life, from teenager to death bed, but it looks at it through her struggle to find agency and love, and the sacrifices the world asked of her on this journey. Mary has an amazing quote about looking at her first daughter as a baby-
‘I dread lest she should be forced to sacrifice her heart to her principles, or principles to her heart… I dread to unfold her mind, lest it should render her unfit for the world she is to inhabit’
This to me felt like such a recognisable worry, how do you raise your children to be the best versions of themselves in a world that will try to steal their power? What answers might Mary’s story provide? I think this is a thread that ties together all the aspects of Mary’s life that we look at.
4. How was the collaborative process with Billy Nomates and Esther Richardson in shaping the overall tone of the production?
Esther came on board really early in the play’s development, I don’t even think there was a first draft yet. She has so much experience telling ambitious and epic stories with concision and punch and that has been indispensable. I feel like she connected with the heart of what this play could be and what it needed to say from the beginning and it’s so rewarding to find that sort of collaboration. When we were searching for the sound of the show we really went round the houses, we knew we wanted it to feel powerful, and up to date, with an edge that felt truthful to Mary’s voice, finally finding Tor (Billy No Mates) who could bring all that and more was such a gift.
5. What message do you hope contemporary audiences take from Mary Wollstonecraft’s story today?
I hope they leave feeling inspired to keep fighting, keep questioning, keep being a bit too much and keep taking up space.
Carrie Hope Fletcher shines in energetic revival of 1961 musical.
I’ll admit that I was largely unfamiliar with Fein, Park and Hanmer’s musical, which follows the misadventures of gun-slingingCalamity Jane in Deadwood City. So I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Nikolai Foster and Nick Winston’s production is a bright and upbeat revival of the original musical, anchored by a stellar ensemble and the ever-impressive Carrie Hope Fletcher.
It is certainly a visual spectacle. Rarely seeing just one person onstage at a time, Matthew Wright’s set is most often populated with ensemble members playing a variety of instruments. The live music aspect is certainly impressive, and helps to lift a somewhat dated score into something exciting and tangible. The ensemble shine under Nikolai Foster and Nick Winston’s direction, really holding this production together. They are slick and seamless, switching between playing instruments, hoe- down dancing and creating the community of Deadwood. Their dexterity helps move the story along effortlessly. Despite its general lack of plot, this movement makes sure that this production never drags, which it definitely has the potential to.
However, the true jewel of this production is undoubtedly Carrie Hope Fletcher as Calamity Jane, demonstrating her true versatility as a performer in a role unlike those she has played previously. She provides a nuanced performance with both humour and tenderness, portraying Calamity’s gusto and vulnerability in equal measure. Her vocal abilities are incomparable, shining particularly in ‘Secret Love’, and she has easy chemistry with Vinny Coyle as Wild Bill Hickok.
Though snappy and upbeat, the production does struggle to free itself from the dated elements of the original show. Whilst Fletcher’s portrayal of Calamity Jane provides nuance, and it’s clear that there has been some thought about the handling of gender politics within the plot, it feels as though the production doesn’t quite get there. A couple of jokes don’t really stand the test of time, and I found it difficult to connect to as a woman in my twenties. But the packed-out audience (of people largely older than me, I must admit) was very responsive and seemed to have a great time throughout, so perhaps a sense of nostalgia is the key to this performance’s real heart.
Ultimately, Calamity Jane is harmless fun — it’s bright, upbeat and farcical, and it’s difficult not to be swept along by the impressive performances across the cast. Don’t expect anything particularly thought-provoking, but perhaps not all theatre needs to do this — it’s a great time either way.
Get ready for a night of laughter as DocDoc, the smash-hit international comedy about OCD by Laurent Baffie, makes its UK premiere at Churchill Theatre Bromley from 5-15 February 2025, followed by a run at Palace Theatre Southend from 18-23 February 2025. Directed by the acclaimed Ian Talbot (The Mousetrap), this hilarious farce promises to have audiences in stitches as a group of patients with compulsions run riot while waiting for their specialist, Dr. Cooper.
To celebrate this exciting premiere, we’re offering two lucky winners a pair of tickets to DocDoc‘s opening night at Churchill Theatre Bromley – or at the Palace Theatre Southend if preferred!
How to Enter:
It’s simple! Enter via social media or through our website:
Like our Instagram or Facebook competition post.
Comment on the post for an additional chance to win.
No social media? No problem! Leave a comment on our WordPress post to enter.
💡 Entries close on 31st January, and winners will be announced on 2nd February. A share would be much appreciated, but it won’t count as an additional entry. We will be using a random name generator to pull the winners.
This is your chance to experience an award-winning comedy that has delighted over 4 million people worldwide!
For more information about the play, visit www.docdocplay.co.uk and get ready for an evening of side-splitting fun!
