Megan Lewis

REVIEW: Napoleon: Un Petit Pantomime

Published on November 27, 2024November 27, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Baguette yourself down to Jermyn Street Theatre for a real Bonaparty.

Tis the season for pantos, and all through London the classics are taking to the stages, from Cinderella to Dick Wittington. This winter Jermyn Street Theatre in partnership with Charles Court Opera have set themselves up to stand out from the crowd with a new hilarious production: Napoleon: Un Petit Pantomime. Written by John Savournin, Artistic Director of the CCO, and co-directed by Savournin and Benji Sperring, this show ticks all the pantomime boxes.

Jermyn Street Theatre is a lovely, intimate space, with an L shaped seating bank it is the perfect environment for an interactive show, and what is more interactive than a panto? Lucy Fowler makes the most of the (admittedly rather small) space, with a fantastic, colourful set. Her genius design incorporates all kinds of nods to the themes of the show – from classical portraits and swords mounted to the wall, to maps stretching across the floor and the back wall of the stage. Openings dotted all over the back wall allow for fun little pop-up moments throughout the production. Equally magnificent are the costumes, also designed by Fowler, garish bright garments which are appropriately flamboyant and silly.

The show opens with a funny musical number featuring Napoleon and some baguette-wielding French troops. After some speedy changes we are transported to London to meet King George III, his daughter, Georgina (in place of George IV) and the Duke of Wellington. Fed up of being silenced and disregarded by the men, and determined to make a difference, Georgina disguises herself as a male soldier and joins her father and the Duke on a mission to find the Black Prince’s Ruby, hidden in a vault in a public toilet near the Strand. All they need to succeed is the severed hand of Nelson, which Napoleon just so happens to have in his pocket. Napoleon, meanwhile, has enlisted the help of the ghost of Marie Atoinette, and together they attempt to trick the british trio, hoping to outwit them and beat them to the ruby. But who will win?

The ensemble is strong across the board, each of them have fantastic stage presence, and equal amount of stage time. They juggle puppetry, choreography, baguette-stage-combat, audience interaction, and of course marvellous musical numbers. Amy J Payne has a versatile voice, reaching high operatic notes in one song, and switching up to a pop belt in another. As Georgina, Payne is a real heroine, making the men look ever more (suitably) ridiculous. Elliot Broadfoot oozes pantomime energy, working the audience (despite a few too many call and response moments) into fits of laughter. A perfect match for Elliot, Rosie Strobel is eye-catching as Marie Antoinette, with a powerful voice and stage presence. Matthew Kellett is a wonderful villain as Napoleon, not to mention his evil laugh which is on point for the role. Jennie Jacobs, the Duke of Wellington, a traditional Principal Boy role, is fantastic, with a brilliant voice and energy.

The script is chock-full of puns, and though some fall flat, it’s lovely to see that the cast seem to be enjoying themselves just as much as the audience, and their energy is infectious. The rhyming couplets keep the script snappy, and wittily rewritten pop-classics get the audience almost wanting to sing along (especially a particularly impressive Abba parody). David Eaton not only composed the lyrics and music, but also takes to the stage as musical director and plays the keys, opposite fellow musician, guitarist Alex Menaker.

Napoleon: Un Petit Pantomime runs until 5th January at Jermyn Street Theatre. Though it’s not necessarily Christmassy per se, it will make for a hilarious night out with friends.

An iconic movie heightened by an incredible orchestra

REVIEW: Avatar Live in Concert

Published on October 30, 2024October 30, 2024 by Megan Lewis1 Comment

“An iconic movie heightened by an incredible orchestra”

In 2009 James Cameron’s Avatar took the cinema world by storm, raking in $2.92billion globally and becoming the highest grossing movie in history. The blockbuster was 15 years in development, and showcased a level of CGI and special effects that wowed audiences in movie theatres across the globe. For me, Avatar is my earliest memory of watching a movie in 3D at the cinema. I vividly remember sitting in a row with my family, aged 11, 3D glasses on, reaching out in amazement, dazzled by the magical plants which seemed to pop out of the screen before me.

Avatar is a thrilling, action-packed sci-fi. Jake, a paraplegic marine, replaces his scientist brother on a mission to Pandora, a planet home to the Na’vi people. His quest is to be accepted by the natives as one of their own, so that he can negotiate the terms of their relocation, but as he falls in love with their way of life he must decide where his loyalties lie.

The Royal Albert Hall screened Avatar as part of its Films in Concert Series. This screening was dedicated to James Horner, composer of Avatar‘s incredible score, and Oscar-winning producer Jon Landau, who worked for decades alongside Cameron.

Projected onto the big screen in this iconic building, the movie was brought to the next level with live musical accompaniment from the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra, the National Youth Choir and soloists Eric Rigler and Eleanor Grant, conducted by Ludwig Wicki. The score for Avatar was nominated for Best Original Score at the 82nd Academy Awards, and the song ‘I See You’ was nominated as Best Original Song at the 67th Golden Globes. This was a truly incredible experience. The music throughout the show is powerful. The tribal-esque piece ‘Pandora’ featuring whistling and choral singing really sets the scene for the planet, and the exciting and uplifting ‘Jake’s first flight’ makes you wish that you were there on Pandora, riding on the back of an Ikran amongst the floating mountains. The percussion during the tense battle scenes is powerful and intense. With over one hundred musicians on the stage, it really is next level and dictates the atmosphere of each scene. Sometimes it’s hard to choose which to watch – the movie or the musicians.

Avatar is an undeniable masterpiece, with quality directing from James Cameron and a brilliant cast. Zoe Saldana is fantastic as Neytiri, a skilled mo-cap actress conveying incredible raw emotion. Sam Worthington makes for a strong Jake Sully, while supporting actors Sigourney Weaver (Grace), Michelle Rodriguez (Trudy) and Joel David Moore (Norm) are inspiring as a troupe of rebellious scientists. Stephen Lang is the epitome of evil as Miles Quaritch, while Giovanni Ribisi disgusts us as Parker Selfridge, both skilled performers. A real stand-out for me is the character Mo’at, played by CCH Pounder.

The story of Avatar is a retelling of the European colonisation of the Americas. The aliens (humans), are after one thing: Unobtanium, a natural material with incredible monetary value. The colonisers are determined to steal the land from the natives for monetary gain, no matter the cost. Seventeen years on from my family trip to the ODEON, sitting in the Royal Albert Hall, the full weight of the film finally hit me. This is a film about genocide. Space travel aside, this is a very real story which is unfolding in various parts of our planet today. As I watched Na’vi mothers with their babies in arms, covered in ash and running from bombs that were destroying their home, I was overwhelmingly reminded of the images which I see coming from Gaza every day, plastered throughout my Instagram feed. In Parker Selfridge’s obsession with Unobtanium I see the plight of the people of Congo, children forced to mine material for smartphones. It is difficult not to draw comparisons between the story of Avatar when the same atrocities are being committed in our lived reality. Avatar sends a very clear moral message against violence and greed, and encourages respect for nature, land and indigenous/native people. A movie such as this, accessible to children with such a clear message is so important. If only more of us could learn from it.

Other upcoming Films in Concert events at the Royal Albert Hall include Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 in Concert (1st-3rd November); Home Alone in Concert (7th December) and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (25th April).

REVIEW: Ginger Johnson Blows Off

Published on September 28, 2024September 27, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Ginger Johnson serves us daredevil realness in this loud and colourful spectacle.

She has charisma, she has uniqueness, she has nerve, and she has talent. She’s an excellent comedy queen, and the reigning winner of Rupaul’s Drag Race UK. But what do you do when you achieve your dream? Ginger Johnson reveals that when you grasp your goals (for her, the sparkling sceptre) you need to find a new challenge for yourself. What’s Ginger’s? To become the ultimate daredevil, the most dangerous woman in the UK (but not in a JK Rowling way).

With an incredible fifteen plus years of drag under her wig, Ginger is a seasoned performer, and knows how to work a crowd. Her show ‘Ginger Johnson Blows Off’ is hitting the Soho Theatre main stage after a run at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. The pre-show atmosphere was buzzing. After a rocky start with a few technical issues (which a lot of us thought was part of the show) Ginger rides out onto stage atop a comically small motorcycle, clad in an incredible glistening jumpsuit, silver cowboy boots and a ginger wig that defies gravity. From the get-go she is a force of nature, unphased by the previous technical mishap, a natural performer. She begins with a hilarious song chock-full of witty lyrics, referencing her time on Drag Race and the fame that she found while on the show. She refers to the enormous prize differences between Drag Race America (tens of thousands of dollars plus a huge amount of makeup) vs Drag Race UK, before whipping out her shiny stick to dazzle the audience and amusing us with the new improvements she’s made to the object.

Ginger takes us back on a journey through her childhood aspirations (being a zebra seems like a fantastic idea when you’re a little kid) before revealing her awe when she first saw a stunt performer fired from a cannon, soar gracefully through the air, and land safely in a net far away. We’re introduced to Jen, Ginger’s onstage health and safety assistant, and her polar opposite. While Ginger bubbles with vibrant energy and colour, Jen, dressed in a dull black jumpsuit, stands glumly by, deadpan and disapproving, cleaning up and assisting the queen where needed. Jen is a fantastic, funny stage companion, and it’s particularly impressive that she managed not to break character at all.

What ensues is a series of daring acts – from mentos, coke, a mini trampoline, and farts that could really blow you away, to a risky game of party-popper russian roulette (I could go on about this, but don’t want to give too much away – you’ll just have to go and see for yourself!). Ginger gets the audience involved, asking them about their most brave moments, and bringing them up on stage to join in with stunts. It’s all very polished, and despite some issues with the microphone in the latter half of the show, Ginger powered through with style. Ginger’s songs were particularly funny, and I’d have loved to hear some more jokes outside of the stunts, but perhaps that’s for another show another time. Either way, it was a real blast.

Ginger Johnson Blows Off is funny, weird and wonderful. It plays at the Soho until 12th October.

REVIEW: Biography of a Constellation

Published on September 10, 2024September 10, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

An interesting tale linking a scientific icon and Greek mythology

Biography of a Constellation, directed by Paloma Sierra is one of six productions that make up LAMDA’s Greenhouse Festival, an event at Orange Tree Theatre which showcases the work of LAMDA’s graduating MA students.

Written by Lila Rose Kaplin, Biography of a Constellation is a feminist tale that spans space and time, and delves into a world of mythology. The play celebrates the life of American astronomer Annie Jump Cannon (Grace Willis), combining her story with that of Andromeda (Phoenix Edwards) and Perseus (Roy Mas), as well as a down-on-her-luck planetarium worker (Kathleen Irvine).

An elderly Cannon has been working in the Archives for an incredibly long time, with no sign of leaving. She is steadfast in her work, and committed to checking in on Andromeda. She begrudges the classic Greek myth which centres around yet another woman trapped and wronged. Andromeda is a budding astronomer herself, fascinated by the stars. In the original tale, Andromeda is chained to a rock as a punishment to her mother, the Queen Cassiopeia, who has angered the gods by claiming she is more beautiful than them. In this story it seems to be a marriage plot gone wrong – Andromeda is trapped, chained to the rock and bound to be eaten by a sea monster, until she is rescued by the hero Perseus. Perseus, in Kaplin’s retelling, doesn’t want to be a hero, but rather wants to be a painter, eager to capture Andromeda in her glistening chains. Andromeda is keen to avoid marriage, and the two broker a deal – Perseus frees her from the rock and places her among the stars. The two develop an interesting companionship, which we return to at moments throughout the play.

News has reached Cannon that she is supposedly dead, and in order to ensure she has an appropriate eulogy, she reaches out to her grandson, Gregory, a Harvard professor, inviting him to the archives to examine her journals and works. It’s an unusual choice, as in reality Cannon had no children, but setting this aside the story is interesting and heartfelt. We glimpse moments from the past, a young Gregory practises his scales on the cello (skilfully synced with sound cues – sound design by Summer Collier and music by Abhinav Mishra). He stargazes with his grandmother. We see him grow up, becoming a serious Harvard professor.

Alongside this action, another story unfolds. The planetarium staff member doubles up as our narrator, explaining the events and providing insight into the science. Irvine is humorously self-deprecating in this role, handling the comedy well, and relating to the audience, eliciting ripples of laughter.

Mas brings all the energy to their performance. A tragically misunderstood artist, their Perseus flits between gentleness and chaos – Mas leans into the comedy well. As the young Gregory, Mas is vibrant and playful, and the weight of responsibility and adulthood is palpable as Gregory ages throughout the piece.

Willis doubles up as Cannon and Queen Cassiopeia. Her Cassiopeia is stern, formidable, her stature regal. Willis’ physicality and vocality are particularly impressive – the attention to detail as Cannon ages was impeccable.

Edwards is a striking Andromeda. The passion which she brings to her scientific work is infectious, making it all the more frustrating when she becomes trapped.

The play itself becomes a tad confusing at times, jumping between stories and time lines, criss-crossing characters. It’s an interesting one, yet a little hard to follow. That said, performances across the board were on point. Costume and set design by Jana Lakatos must also be noted – that rock cape in particular was a fantastic piece.

Though the Greenhouse Festival has finished, it’s worth keeping an eye on the creatives involved in this piece, and I look forward to seeing what’s next for each of them.

REVIEW: Suite in Three Keys

Published on June 8, 2024June 8, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

A confronting trilogy and a real marathon

Suite in Three Keys is a trilogy of plays written by Noël Coward and first presented in London in 1966. You might know Coward from his earlier works, for the most part comedies, such as Private Lives, Blithe Spirit and Present Laughter, all three of which have graced the stages of the West End in recent years. This trilogy, written much later in his career, consists of a double-bill Shadows of the Evening and Come into the Garden, Maud, alongside full-length production A Song at Twilight. The three were written to be watched together, and you can catch the lot at The Orange Tree Theatre until 6th July.

Each of these plays are performed by the same group of actors: Stephen Boxer, Emma Fielding and Tara Fitzgerald take on different roles for each show, while Steffan Rizzi with his acoustic guitar and lovely voice remains constant as the hotel’s floor-waiter throughout.

The plays are each set in the same luxurious suit of the Swiss Hotel Beau Rivage, on the shore of Lake Geneva. Set design by Louie Whitemore is elegant and effective – a desk and telephone, white chairs and sofa, and a drink stand filled with decanters and cut glass tumblers (which is much used by the cast). Lighting by Chris McDonnell is simple and unfussy.

Shadows of the Evening, the first of the double-bill is a somewhat sordid story. George Hilgay (Boxer), a publisher, is dying of cancer. Troubled by the weight of the situation, Linda Savigfnac (Fitzgerald), Hugo’s mistress of seven years calls on his wife Anne (Fielding), in a state of desperation, unable to inform her husband of his limited time herself. Here we explore some heavy themes – religion, life after death, or lack thereof, an abyss of nothingness. The hefty subject of death is balanced out with comedy, which elicited ripples of laughter from the audience, but I felt a little as though (perhaps due to my being a young(ish) viewer) I was missing some of the jokes that others were picking up on.

Come into the Garden, Maud, the second of the double-bill is more comedic. Fielding is explosive as Anna-Mary Conklin, a demanding, frantic woman from Minneapolis determined to impress her peers by hosting the perfect dinner. Conklin’s rich golf-playing husband is resigned to his wife, but when an old friend of his, Maud, an adventurous princess, turns up at the hotel a middle-aged passion is ignited. The pair find themselves sparking an affair. This piece is the most satirical of the three, humorously emphasising cliched differences between rich Americans and Europeans of the era and drawing on Coward’s reliable go-to of a love affair.

The final, full-length play, A Song at Twilight, was the most interesting and hard-hitting of all. Hugo, an ailing and bitter writer, is staying at the hotel Beau Rivage with his wife and translator Hilde. Carlotta, an actress who had an affair with Hugo years ago has arranged to meet him after a long time apart. Hugo’s true love of his life was a man named Perry, who Carlotta happened to be with when he died. Now Carlotta has love letters written by Hugo, and is determined to have them published, but Hugo is desperate to keep his homosexuality a secret. The story itself is quite heartbreaking – a man mourning, suddenly confronted with the loss of his ex-lover in a time when homosexuality was still considered a crime in his home country. It poses some interesting questions about the privacy of famous people – Carlotta claims that it is only right that Hugo’s true life story is made public knowledge as he is such a successful writer – but is this fair, and what is the cost?

Steffan Rizzi charms as Felix the floor waiter, his returning character becoming a comforting familiar face. An incredibly skilled actor-musician, he captivates the audience with his personable performance, despite being onstage for the least amount of time.

Fitzgerald and Fielding are a fantastically dynamic pair, playing sharply contrasting characters in each piece, and balancing the drama brilliantly between them as they dance around Boxer, who does well as the man consistently caught between them. Fielding is excellent with her accents, a real chameleon in changing characters. The highlight of the three plays for me was Fitzgerald’s performance as the unapologetic, devious and self-righteous Carlotta.

All three plays together come to around five and a half hours of theatre, which is quite a lot for one day. Although they are best to watch altogether, if I were to recommend one over the other, I would definitely get tickets to A Song at Twilight.

REVIEW: The Glass Menagerie

Published on May 26, 2024May 25, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Poetic and intense, but in need of a pick up in pace

The Glass Menagerie, first performed in 1944, has seen countless reimaginings over the years. This widely-studied classic was the play which launched Tennessee Williams’s successful career as a playwright, earning him global recognition.

The play revolves around a broken Missouri family abandoned by their father (the fifth, unseen character who looms over the story). Amanda Winfield (Geraldine Somerville) has dreams of prosperous futures for her grown-up children. When she learns that her daughter Laura (Natalie Kimmerling) has secretly dropped out of business school she launches herself into finding an appropriate suitor, determined that if she won’t work she must marry. Laura is timid, terribly shy and troubled by her disability, she escapes from reality through her father’s records and her collection of little glass animals. Tom Winfield (Kasper Hilton-Hille) works as a Merchant Mariner. Desperate to escape the situation at home but weighed down by a responsibility to his family and haunted by his father’s actions, he spends his nights at the pictures, avoiding home-life wherever possible. When Tom invites his work-friend Jim (Zacchaeus Kayode) over for dinner, mother endeavours to create the perfect set-up, pinning all of her misguided hope on the long-awaited gentleman caller, certain that he will be the answer to Laura’s future. Crammed into a small St Louis apartment, this play is full of tension, desire and longing, an emotive exploration of strained family relationships.

This play is memory, as we hear from Tom Wingfield in his opening monologue. Williams wrote that The Glass Menagerie should be ‘attempting to find… a more penetrating and vivid expression of things as they are.’ Design by Rosanna Vize lends itself perfectly to this sentiment. Enormous neon lights reading ‘Paradise’ loom, revolving above a sparse stage, bare but for a few chairs and a scattering of tiny glass ornaments. The lighting for the most-part is dream-like, gentle. In the second act vases upon vases of daffodils (or Jonquils, as the American’s call them) surround the stage, interspersed with candles. It’s a beautiful image, a nod to Amanda’s stories of her youth, and a lovely choice for lighting in the later blackout scene. While the characters in the story exist in a cramped apartment, the lack of set and props gives them free-reign to use the full space to express and explore, and gives way for their relationships and needs to really shine through as the driving forces in this story.

The first act of the play relies a little too much on coasting in a dreamlike state. The acting is detailed and energised but the action lacks momentum. Fortunately, this picks up in the second act, particularly spurred on by a fantastic dance sequence (it’s a real spectacle) shared by Laura and Jim in the later part of the play.

Somerville makes a fantastic Amanda. She is determined, seemingly constantly teetering on the edge of breaking point but somehow just managing to keep it together. A mother who puts everything into her children, and though her parenting is clearly flawed, you can see how clearly and wholly she loves them. Kimmerling is magnetic as Laura. Clearly a gifted physical performer, her body exudes anxious energy, which makes her moments of hope all the more heart-wrenching. Hilton-Hille charms as Tom, relatable but filled with need and regret. A lovely contrast to the family of three is Kayode’s Jim – gentle, ambitious, kind, he is a warm presence on the stage, and the hope that he brings the family is contagious.

This production of The Glass Menagerie is ambitious. The sentiment is there, the themes are clear, the dreamlike atmosphere is palpable, but something is missing. Perhaps it’s pace, perhaps it’s something else. That said, it has a lot to offer. This play runs at Alexandra Palace until 1st June.

REVIEW: Peoples, Places and Things

Published on May 17, 2024May 16, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Denise Gough is a powerhouse as she reprises her original role of Emma in Duncan Macmillan’s People, Places and Things.

Eight years after the original production at the National Theatre (a co-production with Headlong), Denise Gogh has reprised her original role of Emma in Duncan Macmillan’s hard-hitting play People, Places and Things.

Emma is out of control. She’s forgetting her lines on stage. She’s sleeping on streets, waking up with strange men, stealing from people. Defiant that she has a problem, she checks into rehab, determined to procure a letter which will allow her to return to work. But the doctor is having none of it. In order to fully embrace her recovery Emma is repeatedly told that she needs to be honest. But Emma is a compulsive liar, constantly telling different stories about the death of her brother, and refusing to share in group sessions. Is Emma even her real name?

Even without the updates to the script (a reference to Covid here, another to Brexit there) this play would be relevant no matter the year. Addiction is a timeless theme, a disease suffered by countless people across the world which affects the lives of not only the addict, but anyone close to them too. Emma feels that all relationships are one sided, aside from drink and drugs, which are the only things which can ever love you back. Other than that, life is meaningless chaos. So why not drink?

Jeremy Herrin directs a sharp production, much the same as his original direction of the piece in 2015. The piece is well-cast, with fantastic performances across the board. Gough is captivating as Emma, which comes as no surprise since her performance back in 2015 won her an Olivier award. She is an absolute powerhouse, bringing a real raw emotional vulnerability to her performance. Her physicality is fantastically detailed and believable, from the stumbling lost drunk, through the denial and defiance, to the resolute recovering addict determined to return to work.

Malachi Kirby takes on the role of Mark, a fellow addict who offers reassurance as well as home-truths to Emma. Kirby performs with a laid-back ease which draws you in, leaving you conflicted when he reveals the story which brought him to rehab.

Sinéad Cusack brilliantly multi roles as Doctor, Therapist and Mum, differentiating her characters with subtle but effective shifts in accent and mannerisms. Her motherliness as her first two characters make the final scene all the more jarring. Kevin McMonagle has excellent comedic timing as dad (and is truly heart-breaking as Paul). Emma’s parents in this story reflect the struggle faced by those confronted with the difficult position of supporting a loved one who struggles with addiction, or cutting them off to protect themselves.

The set (designed by Bunny Christie) is fantastic. Walls of stark-white medical tiles easily transform into different rooms. An ensemble of Emmas’ crawl out of the bed and through the walls, bringing hallucinations to life accompanied by intense lighting (designed by James Frarnbcombe).

People, Places and Things is an honest representation of addiction and human vulnerability. It’s worth checking out the trigger warnings before you go for this one. This production runs at Trafalgar Theatre until 10th August this year. This isn’t one to miss!

REVIEW: The Cord

Published on April 20, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

A vivid reflection of the emotional struggles of parenthood

No one can teach you how to be a parent, and no one can warn you exactly how bringing a child into the world can affect the relationships that you already have. Ash (Ifran Shamji) and Anya (Eileen O’Higgins) are full of love for their newborn son, but as time passes Ash struggles to figure out where he fits. Sleepless nights and misunderstandings lead to rows and fractures in Ash and Anya’s marriage and his relationship with his mother (Lucy Black) in this new play written and directed by Bijan Sheibani.

Set design by Samal Blak is simple yet effective: a raised carpeted square platform in the centre of the room. Oliver Fenwick’s lighting design defines the atmosphere, a stark clinical bright white emanating from a glowing square directly above the stage, which darkens in troubled scenes. The performance takes place in the round, an interesting choice which allows the actors to exercise more flexibility with their action on stage, but detracts from the intimacy of the space as you can clearly see every face in the audience across from you.

One chair is set at each of the four corners of the stage, three are claimed by the actors, and one by lone-cellist Colin Alexander. Alexander’s musical accompaniment permeates the room, the music is poignant, and perfectly underscores the drama. Costume design, also by Blak, is simple and unfussy. Actors take to the stage barefoot, softened by the carpet. There are no props as the action relies on mime. The physicality of these mimed details is excellent, from O’Higgins cradling and breastfeeding the baby, to Black’s knitting (the best mime knitting I’ve seen, in all honesty). Beyond mime, the movement is expressive, Shamji twists in on himself in emotional turmoil, lying in a foetal position which reflects his child-like needs, and Black’s detail in the physical pains her character experiences is vivid.

The writing is natural, realistic, reflective of real-life conversations. Irfan begins as a gentle, curious presence, his tension builds as dark intrusive feelings attack his self worth and he distances himself from his wife to protect his inner child – any therapist would have a field day with this character. The women in the play are forces to be reckoned with. Anya is rooted in her motherhood, defensive, protective, yet O’Higgins portrays her with a palpable vulnerability, a new mother who needs the support from her distant partner. Ash’s mother Jane (Black) grapples with her desire to be a present grandparent while respecting the family’s space. Memories of her own experiences with post-natal depression resurface and become a source of pain for both her and her son. This early relationship between Jane and Ash was an interesting device, but perhaps could have used some more exploration to deepen the relationship between the characters.

While all three actors had clear relationships the tension at times felt contained, arguments never seemed to reach the full height. People under such emotional strain are surely more impulsive, but the true hurt that someone can inflict on their loved ones in crisis was lacking. The Cord is an interesting and valuable insight into the mental health of a struggling father, though I do feel that a little more time on the female characters in this show could have really added depth to the relationships portrayed.

The Cord is an honest portrayal of the challenges a family can face as they welcome a new child to the world. The play runs at Bush Theatre until 25th May. It’s nice and compact at just 80 minutes, and well worth a watch.

REVIEW: Iain Stirling: Relevant

Published on April 15, 2024April 16, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Stirling is self-aware, and mocks his own awkwardness to rolls of laughter from the audience

Iain Stirling, the iconic voice of Love Island, is back on stage this year with his new stand-up show ‘Relevant’. The BAFTA award-winning comedian, dubbed a ‘national sensation’ by the Evening Standard is also known for his Prime Video stand-up special, ‘Failing Upwards’, and co-creating and starring in the sticome ‘Buffering’ alongside this tour’s support act Steve Bugeja.

Stirling starts the show with the classic Love Island opening ‘TONIGHT, IN… HACKNEY!’ It’s unusual for a headliner to open their own show, typically this job is down to the support act, but it seems to be a warm-up of sorts for Stirling himself. Initially jittery and anxious, he rushes through jokes, stumbles over words and backtracks on some audience interactions. That said, he’s self-aware, and mocks his own awkwardness to rolls of laughter from the audience. The audience interaction, though a little shaky, sets the tone for a lively evening of comedy.

Steve Bugeja, co-creator of ‘Buffering’, delivers a fantastic performance as the support act. His awkward demeanour suits his character as he dives into a well-structured set exploring the concept of the ‘ick’. He engages the audience by inviting them to share their own ‘icks’, resulting in an involving, relatable, and hilarious experience. Bugeja effectively uses physical comedy to enhance the humour, seamlessly returning to previous bits for comedic effect. His strong rapport with the crowd and seamless improv during audience interaction makes him a stand-out stand-up.

Post-interval, Stirling reappears on stage visibly more at ease, likening this part of the show to “returning to work after lunch.” He’s animated, using physicality to embody characters, pacing the stage with swagger and flair.

A large part of Stirling’s set revolves around the differences between men and women. Many of these first jokes hit home as he talks about the frustrations shared by women in (heterosexual) relationships – they’re relatable and amusing, a shared experience by many in the audience. The focus then shifts onto the contrasts between mothers and fathers. As a father himself, he praises his wife’s mothering skills. He humorously highlights the perceived simplicity of fatherhood compared to the myriad of challenges that women face when it comes to caring for their offspring. A man can simply be deemed a brilliant father if he manages to dress both himself and his child – while a mother wrestles with all sorts of responsibilities from whether to have an epidural to whether they should breastfeed and beyond. While the jokes resonate, it feels at times as though he is trying too hard to be relevant. Though these topics are important to discuss, his approach verges on mansplaining, and some jokes would be more effective from the mouth of a female/femme comic. That said, some of the points he makes are very clever, and it is refreshing to hear a man celebrate having a wife who earns more than him. Jokes like this are indeed ‘relevant’ in a society where being a stay-at-home dad is becoming more accepted, comics of Stirling’s standing can perhaps use their humour and platforms to ease the perspectives of those who still oppose the breaks-down of such gender norms.

‘Relevant’ tours throughout the UK until May 5th, taking a break before returning for two final shows in Liverpool and Edinburgh at the end of May. You can find performances near you by checking out Stirling’s website here: https://www.iaindoesjokes.com/home#live

REVIEW: Instructions for a Teenage Armageddon

Published on March 18, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Charithra Chandran makes her fantastic stage debut in a one-woman show which shines light on teenage mental health.

One-woman shows have become increasingly popular on the West End in recent years, from Jodie Comer’s incredible performance in Prima Facie at the Harold Pinter back in 2022, to Sarah Snook in the current run of The Picture of Dorian Gray. But there aren’t many one-girl shows. Author, film-maker and actress Rosie Day decided that it was time for this to change, and in response to this lack of representation of the younger generation, she penned Instructions for a Teenage Armageddon. Originally performed by Day herself at the Southwalk Playhouse in 2022, the play has since been used as a basis for a self-help book of the same title (‘30 kick-ass women on how to take over the world’). Now, Day has passed over the starring role to Carithra Chandran, best known for her work on Bridgerton and Alex Rider. The new production directed by Georgie Straight runs for a limited time at The Garrick, only on Sundays, with the final performance on 28th April.

Day has worked with STEM4, a prominent teenage mental health charity, for nearly a decade. Shocked by the statistic that one in four teenage girls self-harm, Day was motivated to raise awareness about the challenges faced by teenagers today and the lack of support available for the younger generations. The result is a poignant coming-of-age narrative that addresses various traumas, including grief, self-harm, eating disorders, sexual assault, grooming, and depression. It’s a play that requires a lot of heavy trigger warnings.

Puberty is a tough time, any adult can remember that. Your body is changing, emotions are running high: you’re angry, sad, confused, hormones are wreaking havoc on your brain. And Eileen has to navigate all this tumult while dealing with the death of her 17-year-old sister Olive, who’s heart gave out following a years-long struggle with anorexia. Eileen (who is only named at the end of the play) deals with her trauma through sarcasm, commenting ‘at least the coffin will be light’ while in the funeral home, and joking that if Olive were to be reincarnated that she would simply come back as ‘skinny’. It is the insensitive humour of a teenager who uses jokes as a coping mechanism when faced with such overwhelming grief.

Following the death of her sister, Eileen is alienated at school as her peers are unsure how to interact with a classmate who has lost a sibling. Struggling with socialising, she latches on to american-accented cigarette-smoking cool girl Ella, a fellow scout who coaxes her toward rebellion. Meanwhile, Eileen’s parents’ marriage disintegrates, and as they enter relationships with new partners they grow emotionally distant from her, leading her to feel increasingly isolated. Eileen is groomed by an older man, and in a particularly horrifying scene we hear about her sexual assault, and the lack of treatment she receives from health services, an experience which is shared by a shockingly large number of young women.

It’s a compelling story that tackles important themes, but at times it feels a little disjointed. The blocking itself is basic and unchallenging. The inclusion of projected videos featuring Ella as well as Eileen’s parents (Philip Glenister and Shelley Conn) and voiceover from Sensible Scout Leader Susan (Maxine Peake) are unnecessary and detract from Chandran’s strong performance – she is already multi-rolling, surely it’d be more effective to give her all the characters. Despite this, Chandran shines in her West End debut (and a one-woman show is no walk in the park). Eye-rolling and armed with witty remarks, she makes for a believable teenager. She navigates the more traumatic scenes with raw vulnerability and emotion, captivating the audience and earning their empathy.

It’s not quite the angst-filled rebellion that the title promises, but Instructions for a Teenage Armageddon is a touching story with a vital message. With potential to raise awareness about teenage mental health, and running at just 80 minutes, it is one which I would recommend, particularly to young women. If you are or were once a teenage girl – there’s something in here that you will relate to.