We sat down for an exclusive interview with Grace Gallagher and Rachael Smart, directors of STUFFED. Food poverty isn’t funny. Clowns generally are. Somewhere between the two sits STUFFED, Ugly Bucket’s riotous, uncompromising response to the UK’s growing food poverty crisis.
STUFFED by Ugly Bucket runs at New Diorama Theatre, London, from 13–24 October 2026. Tickets here.
The show opens by saying everything in it has already been said. What made you decide to say it again anyway, with clowns this time?
When we open the show saying ‘Everything in this show has already been said’ – we are feeling the frustration that what we are about to talk about isn’t new knowledge, and yet, the issue doesn’t only persist but continues to grow. Everything has been said so many times that food poverty in one of the richest countries in the world has become our new normal. Does that mean we should stop saying it? Absolutely not. We must keep saying it because spreading knowledge, human stories and educating each other is our greatest power, but when we bring clowns into the picture, perhaps we can shake an audience out of that new normal, reminding them of the absurdity and horror of the ongoing crisis.
You started making this show in 2022, and food bank need has only grown since. Has the show had to change to keep up with how much worse things have gotten?
The testimony in STUFFED feels equally as powerful today as it did then, and the ferocity of the show remains. We do however recognise that our society feels more opposed than ever before, and in rehearsals we have been editing scenes and challenging ourselves to question – will this bring people together or divide them? One scene in particular was incredibly violent with a ‘fight over crumbs’. We’ve listened to feedback and revisited verbatim about how people in their lowest moments often want to give back, want to help others, so we’ve shifted that scene to focus on unity rather than opposition.
Clowning and food poverty seem like they shouldn’t work together, but the reviews keep calling it hilarious and devastating at once. How do you find the joke in someone’s real testimony without betraying them?
Because the people on the frontlines and those affected by the crisis are never the butt of a joke. The comedy is found within form, slapstick, characters – or we simply bring attention to the absurdity of a situation. Often, the clowning may set up a funny scene where we can laugh with these strange larger than life characters, but then the testimony might cut through, exposing a deep humanness within. Audiences can be caught off guard laughing one minute and choking up the next. It’s exactly this tightrope that makes Stuffed, and indeed all Ugly Bucket work so affecting.
The Good Stuff turns each performance into a shared meal and a room full of food bank organisations. What made you decide the show wasn’t finished when the curtain came down?
Often, theatre makers create social issue based work can feel a lot of pressure to ‘solve’ the issue in the performance itself. We’ve given into that pressure in the past and it has only ever come across as patronising and simplistic, and the food bank crisis is far too complex to solve in one night, especially within the hour of a theatre show. What the performance can do though is emotionally move an audience, spark empathy and fuel us to collective action. The pre-show meal is an opportunity to connect with strangers who you are about to embark on this experience with. Sometimes there’s not just a lack of resources but also a lack of time. When we provide your tea, we are giving everyone an extra hour back in their day which can be a powerful thing. Then, you witness STUFFED, which can shake your core, you may be left overwhelmed, wondering how can I possibly solve this problem, it feels too big right? What if we then, in a panel, we put you in contact with the local organisations that are already doing the good work, and show you how regardless of any capacity, you can make a difference. If we can all make a difference locally, we can create widespread impact. The meal and panel are so vital to our audience experience because it gives a real sense of care to them. They deserve our care, as STUFFED as a performance asks so much of them emotionally, but it is this emotion that we must ride into the collective action beyond the show.
You’re using real stories from the frontlines of food banks. How do you decide what someone else’s testimony can survive being turned into theatre?
I think it comes back to the testimony having to cut through everything else we put on stage. With the clowning, physicality, lighting, music, AV and all the other theatrical elements, there’s always a danger that the show runs away from the truth or weight of that testimony. So we’re constantly asking ourselves, is this theatrical choice helping the audience hear this person’s experience? The testimony should always be the anchor, and that’s why some moments in the show may simply be just the testimony alone, in a blackout space filled with smoke and haze.
The donated food becomes part of the production before it’s redistributed. What was the thinking behind making the audience’s generosity a prop before it becomes aid?
STUFFED is an intense show, where everyday small fires grow and grow into a blazing inferno. The issue of food poverty can feel gargantuan in STUFFED, and we understand that when faced with the size of an issue, we can become so overwhelmed we wonder – what’s the point? I can’t even make a difference? I’m too small, I have no power. However, to go through the journey of STUFFED, and then recognise that the food here on stage, brought here this evening, will leave this theatre and go to someone in need. That is power. That makes a difference. A difference that the audience already made in a small way before the show even began. It brings us back to the good stuff, and reminds us that if we all do a little bit, we can do a lot.