REVIEW: The Crumple Zone


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Festive tragi-comedy shines in its humour, but struggles to get out of first gear in its drama.


The Crumple Zone is a formerly off-Broadway dramatic comedy written by Buddy Thomas, enjoying a run in London’s Waterloo East theatre, directed by Helen Bang. The play occurs solely in the flat of Terry (James Grimm), Alex (Jonny Davidson), and his ‘away touring’ wife Sam (Sinead Donnelly). In Sam’s absence, Alex has been having an affair with Buck (James Mackay), that Terry has been forced to watch in close quarters. Whilst grappling with the conflict of how to act as his best friend is cheated on by her husband, Terry also grapples with his own life; bereft of love, and affection, and resorts to bringing home an unusual pushy stranger called Roger (Nicholas Gauci) for a one night stand. 

From a comedic perspective, the play triumphs as its dense script is executed flawlessly. Grimm sets a high standard from his sharp, snappy delivery of Terry’s verbose sassy wit – the source of the majority of the show’s humour. But the whole cast had excellent chemistry on stage together, which led to the back and forth jovial bickers between characters always hitting the mark. 

In its more serious moments, the play and cast do suitably capture the agony and irony of trauma and tears whilst in a room draped in tinsel and other cheap festive paraphernalia, a wonky Christmas tree, and remnants of alcoholic drinks scattered around. 

Much of the play is spent dwelling on the morally reprehensible behaviour of Alex and Buck’s infidelity. The play never truly condemns this, aside from the sneers and comments of Terry. It tries and fails to truly establish the depth of conflict in Alex’s mind. Perhaps because there was no real conflict at all – but again, this could have been developed further. 

The moments of moral exploration are where the script feels shallow. Alex offers up clichés such as ‘you don’t understand’ over and over again, meaning Davidson’s portrayal of angst comes across simplistic. Similarly, Mackkay’s Buck morphs into a cheap villain at the climax, and again the opportunity for complexity felt limited by the script. 

Upon her return, the character of Sam is meek and spineless, and Donnelly plays her like a thrice-kicked puppy, unboxed and abandoned on Christmas day. The play ends just as a glimmer of recovery emerges, and Terry and Sam resolve to go visit Terry’s mother on Christmas day. The final moments are both beautiful and bleak. You crave more to the story, you want growth. It’s as though you’ve merely watched the pilot for a new sitcom about how Sam and Terry put their lives together again. I know I’d watch that.

REVIEW: Land of the Free

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Well rounded historical drama that serves us a reminder on the importance of condemning all political violence

Land of the Free is the latest show performed by award winning theatrical ensemble Simple 8. Written by Sebastian Armesto and Dudley Hinton, and also directed by Armesto, Land of the Free tells the story of John Wilks Booth – the man who assassinated Abraham Lincoln shortly after the end of the American Civil war in 1865. 

This is a British production from British writers, but covers a part of history that its British audience won’t typically have been exposed to through its school curriculum. Contrasted, for example, to famed West End British production Six, this play isn’t a retelling from a new perspective. With narration from the ensemble between scenes to provide historical context, as well as the erection of literal signs that tell the audience when in time a scene takes place – Land of the Free is an engaging, well taught historical fiction bordering on a history lesson. I’ll concede that at times it felt a little bit like I was being taken through a theatrical reenactment of a Wikipedia page – particularly exacerbated by the occasional tangents the plot deviated onto, but it was an interesting Wikipedia page nonetheless. 

The entire cast of the production can be commended for their excellent performance. Most actors covered multiple parts, switching between roles flawlessly – though I would call out the noteworthy Brandon Bassir – who spent most of the play in the role of Booth himself, playing him with a combination of subtle malice, earnestness, and vulnerability. In addition, Clara Onyemere in the role of Lincoln showcased the President with a stoic goodness, and flashes of  mild arrogance – direction that can be commended as one could argue it was a sense of complacency that allowed Booth the opportunity to fulfil the deed. 

The word ‘Tyrant’ is used by Booth throughout the , before he eventually fires a bullet into the skull, just below the President’s left ear. At the side of the stage is a now famous photograph of Donald Trump, blood dripping down from his left ear, after the bullet aimed at his head missed by millimetres. This is never referenced in the play, but is crucial to the underlying message. The parting message of Booth in the production is that he sees himself as a hero. That he did what he did to protect America from a great evil. Here, Land of the Free carefully reminds us that political violence does not only affect one side. A hero to one is a villain to another. As a society we must reject it entirely, otherwise we may lose a leader capable of great goodness. 

REVIEW: Port City Signature


Rating: 3 out of 5.

Often captivating, often mystifying drama/thriller Will she shoot the sheriff? 


Playwright Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller’s latest play is a rather original take on the ‘a stranger comes to town’ motif. Co-directed by Brimmer-Beller and Phoebe Rowell John, Port City Signature takes us through a single evening in which a young woman, the Newcomer, walks alone into a quiet local pub in a sleepy seaside town after getting off the train at the wrong stop. Accosted by the Regular, and the Lady, serving behind the bar, who attempt to convince the Newcomer to shoot the town’s local sheriff before she boards the last train out of town forever.

The play poses an enticing question to the audience at the beginning: ‘Will she shoot the sheriff?’. The play then draws us closer to the answer to that question at a healthy pace. Why then, did I leave the theatre feeling somewhat unsatisfied? 

Despite the play being grounded in realism, set in an unconfirmed time, though presumably the 70s or 80s, the premise of the plot never felt believable. The idea that two strangers who exist in a morally grey area between good and evil would ask a timid stranger to commit murder never truly sat right. As the plot advances, more and more questionable decisions are made that feel inconsistent in sequence from what we previously saw or heard minutes earlier from the same respective characters. 

The most important character, the Newcomer, portrayed by Meg Clarke, is perhaps the largest enigma – the journey of timid stranger hard on their luck to potential executioner would have perhaps landed better had the play been longer, and the character given more time to develop. In addition, I would assume a clear decision was made to have the Newcomer speak in a strong ‘Received Pronunciation’ accent, presumably to show a surface level dichotomy from the way they speak and their thought process around a potential murder, though at times this felt overdone. 

The characters of the Regular and the Lady were played well by Paddy Echlin and Katherine Lea, respectively, but it was David Carter as the Sheriff who, despite having the smallest role, made the largest impression on stage. Built up as a bogeyman whose death would serve the greater good, when the Sheriff finally makes his entrance, Carter’s demeanour is intimidating, and his energy creates an instant oppressive fog of tension. 

As a piece of entertainment, Port City Signature is best enjoyed without too much critical thought. It’s engaging, original, and even fun if you’re a fan of gun-driven tension. When you start to challenge it for its realism, then the cracks begin to show. 

REVIEW: Kim’s Convenience


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A well oiled family friendly comedy with glances towards deeper notes on race, immigration, and family expectation.


Despite being perhaps more widely known for its subsequent Netflix adaptation of the same name, Kim’s Convenience is a stage show written by Canadian writer and actor Ins Choi. Having toured extensively in Canada in the early 2010s, Choi has taken the hit show international, where it’s running at the Riverside Studios in London.

With the stage set beautifully inside the convenience store that gives the play its title, Kim’s Convenience follows the happenings of the family run store over the course of a day, in which the father and store manager Appa (Choi), attempts to introduce the idea of taking over the store to his 30 year old single daughter, Janet (Jennifer Kim), who has other ideas for herself and her future. Elsewhere, Appa’s wife Umma (Namju Go) is meeting up secretly with the family’s estranged eldest son, Jung (Edward Wu). Rounding out the cast is Miles Mitchell, who soundly plays all the remaining characters who are customers to the store in one way or another, and provide either a springboard for jokes or drive the plot along. 

Kim’s Convenience has a heart full to the brim – a story that contrasts expectations across generations in a Korean immigrant family in Canada that had to start over.  Everyone wants what’s best for each other and the family unit collectively, but what ‘best’ is, differs from each perspective. It touches on these themes through love and laughter, rather than ever becoming too heavy. 

Its comedic hijinks are the real joy of Kim’s Convenience. In an early moment, Appa attempts to teach Janet how to spot shoplifters based on their race, gender, sexuality, and fashion sense. It’s a scene which manages to tow a very delicate line. It executes itself brilliantly and showcases the excellent comedic timing of Choi, but also the strong chemistry he has with his on-stage daughter Kim. Throughout the show, Choi has a script that is filled consistently with gags that he executes with the perfection of an olympic gymnast. 

The characters are so easy to bond with, it would be understandable to find yourself wanting to spend more time with them. Fortunately, this is a rare occasion where a theatre audience can do just that.

REVIEW: 23.5 Hours


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Thrilling character driven drama on the collateral damage of sexual abuse 


Whilst celebrating the opening night of the school’s production of Romeo and Juliet that he’s directed, beloved local school teacher Tom receives a phone call that changes everything. The cast freeze and the play jumps forward two years to the release of Tom from prison – accused, charged, and convicted of raping a female student performing in his play. 

Written by Carey Crim and directed by Katharine Farmer, 23.5 Hours explores the fallout on family and friends when a man is convicted of sexual crimes. While the play is about the actions and impact of the conviction despite guilt of Tom (David Sturzaker), it’s the character of his wife, Leigh, played by Lisa Dwan, who drives the plot forward. Tom’s release breathes new life into the struggles that Leigh has been able to keep from boiling over for the past two years; hatred from the community, the judgement of friends, and pacifying a son who’s trying to navigate his school life with the question of his father’s actions hanging over him. Most importantly though, Leigh has to reconcile with herself the ever important question of whether she believes her husband is innocent or not. 

Dwan thrives in unravelling the composure of Leigh throughout the production, as the doubt that she buries deep within creeps closer to the surface, and her desire to remain in close proximity to Tom is tested to its limit. Sturzaker’s portrayal of Tom is also quietly brilliant. Meek, and hollow by design in the early stages of the performance as he adjusts to his new role in life as a registered sex offender, but as Tom’s comfort on the outside grows, he backs his former self on the innocent care he showed his former students, but with this comes the most gentle hints of sinister darkness that Sturzaker does well to not overcook, but allows the audience to question Tom’s intentions. 

Friends of the couple, Jayne and Bruce, serve as reflections of two typical voices in society in the face of sexual crimes. Bruce (Jonathan Nayati) remains supportive of his friend Tom, in the same way that many men fail to challenge their friends on improper behaviour around women. Bruce is frequently blasé about concerns that Jayne has about Tom. Jayne (Allyson Ava-Brown) serves as both an antagonist and a voice of reason, the only character able to put personal feelings aside, preferring to balance her views on statistics, and probabilities, but driving a wedge between Tom and Leigh in the process. Both Nayati and Ava-Brown perform their modest roles perfectly here. 

While light on plot, limited to the progression of Leigh’s doubts and the improvement in relations between Tom and his son, Nicholas (Jem Matthews) 23.5 Hours is a captivating drama that gives an honest reflection on how this crime, infamous for its uncertainty, can impact more than just the victim. 

REVIEW: Red Hare’s Wish

Rating: 3 out of 5.

High potential period piece musical let down by soundtrack volume

Basing itself on stories and characters from Chinese literature, set in the year 168 BC,  Red Hare’s Wish is a mostly sung-through period musical written and composed by Jialun Qi and directed by Enrico Liou. Performed at The Space Theatre, This performance is an adapted version of act one of the full production, with the script altered to make the story feel more complete. 

With a character list resembling an episode of Game of Thrones, our eight strong ensemble cast portray a trio of warriors striving to do good, an unpopular Lord Regent and his infamous bloodthirsty warrior, a scheming fugitive attempting to sew discord and gain influence, and a high-born mother and daughter caught in the middle of the political games. 

The highlight of the show is the musical soundtrack, which is predominantly classical in style, though also contains flashes of more contemporary moments. The songs were sung well by the cast, with Vivi Wei shining through as the highlight as sandal maker-gone warrior Liu Bei. 

From the show’s greatest strength, came its greatest struggle, however. In a musical political/historical drama in which the majority of dialogue and plot advancement is through the songs themselves, the audience risks falling behind in the story if they can’t keep up with the spoken words and lyrics. 

Unfortunately the volume on the otherwise beautiful soundtrack that played out from the speakers in The Space Theatre was turned up too loudly, and often drowned out words or full lines from the cast. 

This became problematic as the story was quite complex, with a number of plots and political schemes occurring side by side. I sadly found myself not quite sure who certain characters were, or sometimes struggling to hear what they were saying alongside the movements they were performing on stage. This was perhaps exacerbated further by this performance being an altered version of act one transformed into a more complete story – you would expect a more fleshed out two act performance to give the audience more time to keep up. 

After reflecting on the performance, and clarifying plot points with my +1, I’m determined that there’s something really great at the core with Red Hare’s Wish. Given more space to breathe across two acts, and improved sound balancing, I’d likely find the end product very enjoyable. 

REVIEW: After Sex


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A dramatic rom-com set in the afterglow of casual sex that touches you in all the right places


The casual sex question – can it be just that? After Sex is a play written by Siofra Dromgoole and directed by Izzy Pariss, in which we join a newly formed casual sex pairing of a female character (Antonia Saliba) and a male character (Azan Ahmed). Through their intimate moments, we get closer to them as people, as they get closer to themselves. They get a handle on what they want, and learn what they need. 

Dromgoole’s script is fiery, funny, and rarely allows the characters to waste a word, but is never over-written. The poetic dialogue is never heavy handed, and the characters and their motivations feel entirely human and easy to connect with. As the play advances, we’re deeply invested in the couple, and whether they can steer their ship through stormy weather. 

The stage is set up minimally, some slightly raised wooden platforms arranged like a capital E with the tines of the E facing the audience. A pile of clothes remains on-stage which the couple draw from in order to dress themselves in between scenes – a tidy and swift device for drawing the audience in or out of the bedroom, and reflecting the level of inherent intimacy that our couple are sharing. 

The intimacy shared between the couple is executed well in that there is no nudity, but when a sexual position is inferred (or openly discussed), the two actors were in their expected bodily arrangements, but adjacent to each other rather than actually on top of each other. Not only is this practical for the actors’ ability to continue clear storytelling, but it also smartly maintains a theme of distance between the couple, even in their most intimate moments, there is something between them. 

Salib plays Her with power, but also a vulnerability. The moments of joy feel deeply sincere, but  in both moments of pain, and the occasional flash of cruelty from Her, Salib’s delivery is gut-punching.

Ahmed occasionally struggles with the more tender moments of the male character that were necessary to the storytelling. Ahmed plays Him with a vague aloofness, which serves the character well in shallow moments, and elevates some of the comedic lines to flourish. But as the show goes on, there’s an ask for the hard outer shell to be eroded away, and at times this feels unconvincing, and doesn’t do the character justice. 

It isn’t an untold story, but nonetheless After Sex successfully provides what feels like a fresh take. The characters aren’t cliché, it was frequently funny, but also provided depth and darkness. It binds us to two beautifully flawed characters that we painfully root for until the end.

REVIEW: Lady Dealer

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.


Whimsically, wonderfully poetic one-person show of inside the troubled mind of a heartbroken drug dealer

Written by Martha Watson Allpress, and directed by Emily Aboud, Lady Dealer is a trip inside the head of Charlie (Alexa Davies), an entrepreneur in the line of drug dealing, operating out of a council estate in Peckham. We follow Charlie through the course of a day where life gets on top of her as she processes a recent break up, and deals with a power cut and phones with no battery – in which she muses on her life and the people she brushes shoulders with day to day. 

Despite being a rapid-fire stream of consciousness in the form of a monologue, Lady Dealer’s script is beautifully poetic whilst never feeling shoehorned in, or self congratulatory. 

The rhythm and rhyme in which Charlie waxes lyrical aligns perfectly to her character’s initial happy go lucky attitude. Quick witted and amusing, through both wording and delivery both in the words and the delivery as Charlie pokes fun at herself, her family, her customers and her neighbours. This doesn’t get in the way of when the tone takes darker turns, as Charlie’s existential crisis oscillates. 

To match the captivating script, Charlie is played to perfection by Alexa Willis. Her portrayal of Charlie felt organic. Playing a drug dealer living on a council estate, it might be easy to fall into a cliché accent. Instead, Willis played Charlie with charm, vulnerability, and splashes of darkness at opportune moments. Even with regards to attire, (costume by Jasmine Araujo), Charlie looks like a carefree student who hasn’t emerged from their halls of residence in a week, which endears us to Charlie’s warmth as she discusses her proficient  drug operation. 

Always heartfelt, occasionally heart-wrenching, Lady Dealer is an accomplished piece of punchy storytelling that triumphs in taking us on a journey through the toils of someone struggling to understand her place and purpose in society, and her expectations of herself.

REVIEW: Rock, Paper, Scissors


Rating: 3 out of 5.

An amusing series of increasingly irritating decisions around what to do with a corpse 


Written and directed by Chess Hayden, Rock, Paper, Scissors stars Emma Lo and Jimmy Roberts, as housemates Lucy and Dylan. They’re joined by Megan Cooper, as Dylan’s ex-girlfriend. 

It begins with Dylan and Lucy sitting shell shocked on a sofa, moments after Lucy has pushed her boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, down the stairs and killed him. Realising the junction that their lives are at, Lucy and Dylan struggle to agree on a way forward, torn between the honest path that will put their own futures in jeopardy, or the more sinister option, of covering the whole thing up and hiding the body, 

Rock, Paper, Scissors is one of those stories where the characters act completely irrationally in the name of comedy. A punchy script provided some snappy quips between Lucy and Dylan, balanced with a modest dose of physical comedy based around a dead body.  And while I often found myself wanting to groan with frustration with my head in my hands at the series of bad decisions our characters were making, it succeeded in remaining funny enough to make the pain at their actions worthwhile. 

Where the play struggled was justifying the ludicrous decisions the characters were making. While a level of irrationality is a given when characters are discussing what to do with a corpse, Lucy’s character, the advocate for the ‘evil path’, often didn’t feel persuasive enough to justify the actions that she was advocating for. The character is freshly out of an abusive relationship, and this could have been drawn upon a little more to help the audience empathise with her. Instead, Lo plays Lucy’s anxiety and stress on a surface level. A desire to stay out of prison is the extent of the arguments made that drives Lucy’s increasingly erratic behaviour. This feels like a missed opportunity to add some emotional edge to contrast the comedy. 

To balance Lucy, Roberts’ Dylan, typically the advocate of playing a straight bat, plays his part well as enough of a voice of reason to highlight the nonsense, but sufficiently weak enough to not prevent it entirely, with very subtle and occasional allusions to hidden romantic feelings that, while a bit of a cliché, are passed off well . Rounding the cast off, Cooper does a solid job as Dylan’s irritating ex partner who gets in the way and risks everything unravelling.

Rock, Paper, Scissors does an excellent job of being an amusing 70 minute long experience of watching two friends navigate through a series of increasingly funny but increasingly bad decisions. Where it falls short is adding any further depth to the events unfolding, but that doesn’t take away from it being an enjoyable watch. 

REVIEW: In Everglade Studio

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A smart, twisted, dark comedic drama of four people locked in a recording studio as they descend into madness

After a run at Edinburgh Fringe in 2023, In Everglade Studio is enjoying a short run at the Hope Theatre in April 2024. Written by Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller, and Co-Directed by Brimmer-Beller and Phoebe Rowell John. 

Set in 1974, In Everglade Studio is about four people who come together over a single night in a recording studio in London with the goal of creating a whole record’s worth of hits in a single evening, unaware that the materials in the walls of the basement studio are toxic, and driving them to insanity. The audience is informed of this by a brief audio track of a future documentary that plays to the room, suggesting bizarre and tragic events of the night we’re about to watch. 

Skye (Emily Moment) is a white English artist heavily influenced by American country music, brought to the studio by mixed-race music producer Clarke (Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller), alongside white session musician Baron, (Aveev Isaacson, possibly donning a scouse accent). The trio are shortly joined by Matilda (Hannah Omisore), a young black woman, invited by Clarke to provide creative input onto Skye’s music. Racism is core to the tension that drives the plot. As the chemicals in the walls seep into our characters minds, Skye’s non-racist facade begins to fade, and aggression evolves in baby steps away from passive and becomes more direct. The play is enthralling as we watch the drama unfold and the relationships deteriorate. 

Emily Moment portrays the slow descent from arrogant musician into something more sinister superbly well, through dirty looks, body language, and subtly barbed verbal jabs, there’s always a slight ambiguity to what’s going on in Skye’s head right up until the mask falls and shatters onto the ground. Opposite Moment, Omisore well encapsulates a shy, unassuming, almost meek Matilda, who doesn’t quite know how to own the talent she possesses because of the place society has put her as a black woman. Omisore then transitions the performance brilliantly into what is first strength in the face of adversity, then into a retaliatory madness as we reach the climax. Brimmer-Beller puts in a solid performance as Clarke, a man putting his desire to make money from the night in the studio ahead of his personal feelings on racism, though this was perhaps slightly undercooked, the extent of his internal conflict (or lack of) on this matter could have been developed more. Isaacson’s Baron serves as a mild foil to Skye, and provides quips of comic relief, and is performed well by Isaacson. 

Music is a key feature of In Everglade Studio, with whole songs performed intermittently during the play, though this was done as part of the plot as the cast were recording songs in the studio, rather than how a musical might see its cast break out suddenly into a number. The songs throughout are excellently written and composed by Brimmer-Beller and Isaacson, and well performed live on stage by the whole cast. They were smartly used to convey mood, or allowed the cast to use expression and movement to suggest the current state of relationships to the audience. The only critique that they were sometimes a bit long, and would slow the pacing, particularly early on in the performance. 

In Everglade Studio finishes in an unrecognisable place from how it begins, owing to the characters going insane, and exacerbated by the tensions of not really liking each other that much to begin with. The journey the characters go on over the fateful night is thoroughly entertaining, gently funny at times, but predominantly satisfying for a uniquely chaotic spin on a victim of racism overcoming the attitudes they’re faced with that seek to bring them down.