Juliet Pone

REVIEW: 2:22 A Ghost Story

Published on April 9, 2026 by Juliet PoneLeave a comment

An evening of lukewarm ghostly surprises that don’t bear up under scrutiny

Walking into the Liverpool Empire Theatre to see Danny Robins’ immensely popular 2:22 A Ghost Story on its 2026 tour, the atmosphere is tense and expectant. The stage is ready for us to see: curtain up on the open-plan kitchen and living space that serves as the sole setting for this claustrophobic four-person play. Anna Fleischle’s set design captures a suitably creepy vision of a house that has recently changed ownership, with half-painted doors, stripped and stained-looking walls, and a rapidly counting digital clock reminding us that the time for haunting is approaching.

With this run co-directed by Olivier-nominated Matthew Dunster alongside Gabriel Vega Weissman, 2:22 A Ghost Story has been wildly popular since its 2021 opening in the West End, winning Best New Play at the WhatsOnStage awards that year, as well as being nominated for three Olivier awards. An eclectic mix of big names like Cheryl Cole and Tom Felton have made up the four-person cast on national and global tours, with James Bye, Natalie Casey, Grant Kilburn and Shvorne Marks sharing the stage for this run.

The first three minutes of the play are genuinely tense, with only Shvorne Marks as Jenny – a new mother home alone with her baby – onstage. Living in a house recently sold by a widow, she believes she is being haunted at 2:22 by a ghost who poses a threat to her baby. The scene is fraught with the fear of unseen things triggering motion sensor lights in the garden through bare screen doors, and with breathing coming through the baby monitor. But after that, it falls apart.

The play follows Jenny and her husband Ben (James Bye) as they host a small housewarming dinner party for old university friend Lauren (Natalie Casey), a classic psychiatrist with mental health issues, and her new boyfriend Ben (Grant Kilburn), who serves largely as comic relief. Rather than a haunting thriller, the plot is driven by the four characters arguing about the existence of ghosts and the turmoil of their personal relationships. The play rather gives the impression that it thinks it is very clever and is saying something meaningful about religion, life, and loss, while rehashing the same very standard conversations that we have all, no doubt, also had with friends several times. Jenny thinks she’s being haunted. Husband Ben is a scientist and doesn’t believe her. Ben’s mother held seances. Lauren wants another glass of wine. Repeat for the next two hours.

All the genuine tension and fear are gone, replaced by cheap jump scares; the same scream and plunge to black marks every new scene, even though nothing frightening ever really happens. Even the set loses its spookiness when the characters spend the whole evening remarking on how nice and newly done-up the house looks. It doesn’t, which instead left me wondering whether the creepy set was more of an accident than a choice.

As the clock edges towards 2:22, any sense of mounting tension quietly drains away, and it becomes increasingly clear there is neither the time nor the substance for a truly frightening or satisfying payoff. When the moment finally arrives, the much-teased revelation lands with a muted sense of disappointment, closer to a shrug than a shock.

Shvorne Marks delivers the standout performance as Jenny, providing the production’s emotional anchor and most sympathetic presence. The remaining characters prove largely unlikeable, and the performances lack distinction. Natalie Casey’s unconvincing American accent further undermines Lauren, diminishing an already verbose and overbearing character.

Writer Danny Robins drew on interviews with people reporting paranormal encounters, yet the resulting play feels pedestrian and clichéd. Its twists and turns lack originality and fail to withstand closer scrutiny, falling short of the intrigue suggested by its real-life inspirations.

However, the audience obediently laughed and gasped at the right moments, and seemed to receive the play very well. It remains popular and generally acclaimed, so although I was not compelled by it, if you like an evening of jumpscares and arguing couples, it could still be the play for you.

REVIEW: Shostakovich’s Symphony No.5 and more

Published on April 27, 2024April 27, 2024 by Juliet PoneLeave a comment

It was a privilege to listen to the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, with well-loved classical masterpieces accompanied by a thrilling world premiere of current talent.

It was a privilege to listen to the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra (RLPO) on Thursday evening. Domingo Hindoyan conducted the already well-loved classical pieces Bacchus and Ariadne, Op. 43: Suite No.2 by Albert Roussel, and Dmitri Shostakovich’s Symphony No.5 in D minor, Op. 47 as well as the exciting world premiere of Eleanor Alberga’s first piano concerto, performed by Leeds International Piano Competition 2021 winner Alim Baisembayev and the RLPO.

Alberga’s new concerto had to be the highlight of the night. Hearing a new, beautiful piece performed live for the first time by such an accomplished and exciting pianist was quite the honour. The concerto, split into four distinct movements, was commissioned especially for Baisembayev as part of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Society Contemporary Prize, and the crowd applauded rapturously for several long minutes as Hindoyan, Alberga and Baisembayev took their bows together before the interval. My favourite was the slow third movement, in which chimes resonated like the call of a large cathedral bell, and the piano often called to mind the sound of running water. Though there is no set narrative behind Alberga’s concerto, it was nevertheless very emotive and it was easy to let your imagination run wild while listening to create a personal narrative to the highly dynamic music.

The three pieces performed across the evening flowed well thematically and were flawlessly performed, in accordance with the RLPO’s reputation. Bacchus and Ariadne is swiftly coming to be considered a signature piece for Hindoyan after its inclusion in his critically acclaimed 2022 debut album, and was the opener of the evening. Composed in 1930 as part of the ballet Bacchus and Ariadne, The Second Suite makes up the second half of the story, where a distraught Ariadne throws herself from a cliff on the island of Naxos after being abandoned by the hero Theseus, but is caught by the god Bacchus. They fall in love, and she is eventually welcomed to Olympus as a goddess. The piece has some beautiful, romantic sections for strings that conjure up the swift, elegant rhythm of the ballet dancers even when listened to in isolation, but is as changeable and full of contrasts as the mischievous trickster god himself, with some big, bold sections interspersed. Shostakovich’s Symphony No.5 is the perfect showstopper. It was composed in 1937 after Stalin himself denounced the composer’s most recent opera. This symphony and its reception was quite literally a matter of life and death for Shostakovich, and this lingering threat can be heard throughout with a dark, menacing first ‘Moderato’ movement including ominous percussion and brass, as well as more mournful string sections in the third ‘Largo’, before finishing with triumphant fanfare. It was a rousing and moving listening experience that showed off the best of the RLPO, making a bold finale to a highly accomplished evening.

REVIEW: Everybody’s Talking About Jamie

Published on April 24, 2024April 24, 2024 by Juliet PoneLeave a comment

A story of grit covered in glitter, of drag as armour – but also of how Jamie unapologetically being himself injects colour back into the lives of those close to him

The wildly popular and award-winning Everybody’s Talking About Jamie returned to the stage at the Liverpool Empire this week, directed in its new run by Matt Ryan and with the sensational Ivano Turco starring as the fourth Jamie. The musical is inspired by the BBC documentary ‘Jamie: Drag Queen at 16’ and follows the story of a gay teenager in Sheffield who wants to be a drag queen and is fighting for his right to attend prom in a dress.

The set, designed by Olivier award-winning Anna Fleischle, folded and shifted between bedrooms, streets, school and kitchen. Largely drab and with cloudy, grey skies projected onto the walls, it caught the grit and desperation of this working-class town, with the warmth of Jamie’s mum’s kitchen and the shop where he meets drag queen Loco Chanelle, aka Hugo (Kevin Clifton) being the only flashes of colour. This is, at its heart, a painful story, a story of grit covered in glitter and drag as armour – but also of how Jamie unapologetically being himself injects colour back into the lives of those close to him, and the set catches that beautifully.

I admit I had to try to reconcile my idea of what the story would be with the reality; Everybody’s Talking About Jamie wasn’t the feel-good evening I expected, and at times left me tearful and uncomfortable. Rebecca McKinnis was incredible as Margaret New, Jamie’s mum, who loves and supports her son unconditionally while facing money struggles, loneliness, and trying to protect him from his father and the others who don’t understand him. Her heartfelt solos ‘If I Met Myself Again’ and ‘He’s My Boy’ gave me chills and were the undeniable standouts of the night. Strictly star Kevin Clifton’s ‘The Legend of Loco Chanelle’ was also dark and beautiful and Hugo was a definite favourite, overcoming his own painful past to take to the stage in drag again to introduce Jamie’s debut performance.

These more raw elements were handled beautifully, however other darker elements of the plot sometimes felt like they lost this nuance. There’s a fine line between representing the often difficult reality of the queer experience and feeding into shock factor, and the freedom with which homophobic and racist slurs were used, and a scene of physical abuse which just seems to be shrugged off, made it feel to me like the show slipped into the latter. A difficult scene where Jamie lashes out at his mother also felt out of place and surprisingly cruel considering how close their bond is shown to be, and the usual nature of Jamie’s character. I was taken out of the show temporarily, thinking ‘he wouldn’t have said that’ rather than ‘I can understand the hurt behind those words’. Sometimes the quick switches between ballads, upbeat pop songs, and vitriol were also a bit of a whirlwind, but it certainly made for a dynamic show.

The catchy tunes performed by Jamie and his classmates can’t be overlooked, either. I’ve had ‘And You Don’t Even Know It’ in my head all day, and I loved how the songs incorporated elements of music-making that most of us will remember from school, like clapping on the tables or stacking cups. Ivano Turco sung beautifully and was a real force of nature, commanding the spotlight and injecting both humour and colour, and insecurity and sensitivity into his performance.

Of course, in the end, everyone came together, with a lovely final scene where Jamie’s class rallies behind him as he arrives to prom not as drag queen Mimi Me, but as himself, in his truest and most fabulous state. He shares the spotlight this time, however, with best friend Pritti Pasha, played by Talia Palamathanan. She was wonderful throughout, playing the straight-talking and sensible counterpart to Jamie’s head full of dreams, but she really finds her fire in the finale in her takedown of school bully Dean Paxton. Jordan Ricketts, the original Dean, returned to his role in this run of the show, and plays a great villain. I didn’t quite come away with my heart as full of love for Everybody’s Talking About Jamie as I thought I might, but it was a technically flawless evening executed by an outstanding cast and crew, and perhaps my only criticism lies in small elements of the original writing. I would nevertheless recommend it to all fans of drag and glitter – though with a note to also bring a packet of tissues.

REVIEW: Come From Away

Published on March 14, 2024March 13, 2024 by Juliet PoneLeave a comment

A story of love, of the great care and compassion of the people of Gander, of love found for some and lost for others, Come From Away doesn’t shy from difficult topics.

My parents always said that everyone old enough to be aware of it can remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when the planes hit the twin towers on the 11^th September, 2001. That’s exactly how Come From Away begins, with the residents of Gander, Newfoundland, recounting what they were doing when the news came through and 38 diverted planes started queuing up to land in their small town. The hit musical, written by Irene Sankoff and David Hein, began as a student performance at Sheridan College, but has since travelled the world to critical and public acclaim, becoming one of the most loved shows of all time. After seeing it for the first time on opening night at the Liverpool Empire Theatre, once again directed by Christopher Ashley who brought it such success on Broadway, I understand why.

With an ensemble cast of twelve performers all playing more than one role, I was a bit concerned there wouldn’t be enough space to allow each character to shine or be developed as an individual. Sometimes all it took for an actor to change character was to put on a hat, such as Jamal Zulfiqar switching between Kevin and Ali, but the whole cast pulled it off remarkably, each managing multiple diverse accents, and I was amazed at how much individuality there was to each of the more than twenty-four characters, and with how much compassion they were all treated.

The set was no more than a backdrop of bare planks of wood and some tall trees stage right, calling back to the sparsely populated woodlands and logging communities of Newfoundland. Chairs moved around by the actors on set, often while singing and dancing, transformed the stage from a Tim Hortons, to a local pub, to the aisle of an airplane, to a school packed full of ‘guests’ with remarkable smoothness. The production is fast-paced and told almost entirely through song, with a runtime of 1 hour 40 minutes with no interval, but it neither felt rushed nor too long, largely thanks to the expert choreography of Kelly Devine and Richard J. Hinds that allowed for seamless character and set transitions.

Naturally with any musical the songs have to be showstoppers, and Come From Away certainly delivered. The power of twelve voices singing at once cannot be underestimated, and worked perfectly for the energetic but sometimes haunting flute-and-fiddle folk songs that told the story of how the residents of Gander opened their homes and hearts to more than 7,000 people who were stranded for five days. Having a live band on stage really made the whole production shine, and all the cast sang as well as they acted. The booming voice of Nicholas Pound as Claude and others was a standout for me, with Sara Poyzer also impressing with several long narrative solos as Beverley Bass, the first female American Airlines captain, and a few more light-hearted solos as Annette, a Gander local who swoons over the new men in town. Bree Smith’s ‘I Am Here’ as Hannah, a mother travelling alone and desperately searching for news of her son, was poignantly heartfelt and had me tearing up.

While it is ultimately a story of love, of the great care and compassion of the people of Gander, of love found for some and lost for others, Come From Away doesn’t shy from difficult topics; Ali, a Muslim man inspired by many real passengers including world famous chef Vikram Garg, faces discrimination based on his ethnicity and religion, with many of the other passengers and airport security alike suspicious of him. The gay couple Kevin and Kevin, and black passenger Bob, fear for their safety in this remote town, and Jewish and Muslim passengers struggle to find suitable food, but all form lasting bonds and leave an impression on the community. The ‘Prayer’ song, sung in multiple different languages as passengers from different religions pray, was a real standout moment for me. Even animal passengers weren’t forgotten, with devoted animal lover Bonnie, played by Rosie Glossop, taking care of cats, dogs, and a few rare Bonobo chimps. I laughed, I cried, and at the final bow the whole theatre was on its feet with rapturous applause. Come From Away has it all, and I think part of what makes it so universally touching is the care with which it tells real stories, always guiding us to think of the stranded passengers who still keep in touch with the residents of Gander today.

REVIEW: Beethoven’s Symphony No.5

Published on January 20, 2024January 20, 2024 by Juliet PoneLeave a comment

The RLPO were not afraid to be bold and dramatic, or soft and emotional when called for, making for a highly dynamic experience

It was a night of adventure at Liverpool Philharmonic Hall, with chief conductor Domingo Hindoyan leading the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra (RLPO) through Beethoven’s heroic Egmont, Op. 84 Overture, Richard Strauss’ fantastical tone poem Don Quixote, and into the ‘fate motif’ of Beethoven’s immortal Symphony No. 5, naturally bound to be the showstopper of the evening. Also part of the orchestra tonight were Emerging Fellowship Musicians Danny Cleave on double bass, and Méline Le Calvez on clarinet, who will undoubtedly continue with bright careers in music.

The Egmont Overture was a stirring beginning; first performed in 1810 for Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s play Egmont, the piece brings together the story’s overarching themes of righteous rebellion, freedom, and loss, with Beethoven’s personal anger at Napoleon’s unjust dominion over much of Europe. Hindoyan and the RLPO brought out the subtleties of the piece in a highly dynamic performance; quiet, slow minor chords to express the tragedy of the story building into grand fortissimo and a rousing, triumphant finale as the hero becomes a martyr in a valiant stand for freedom.

I did wonder over the choice to sandwich Don Quixote, which is longer but arguably less impressive than the 5^th(though this may be a matter of personal taste), between two of Beethoven’s most iconic pieces, but thematically it complements the Egmont Overture perfectly – following the often sad and unsuccessful adventures of the eponymous hero, a crazed knight living in an illusory world of undying chivalry and romance. The technical mastery of RLPO throughout this 45-minute continuous piece cannot be underestimated and they breathed real life into the piece. With the wind machine softly adding to the ambience, the rolling landscapes of La Mancha, Spain, that set the backdrop for the story, appeared to me with remarkable clarity.

The solo cello, composed as the voice of Don Quixote himself, was performed beautifully by Norwegian Jonathan Aasgaard and was my personal highlight of the score. These mournful passages gave a different depth and sadness to the tale of the ‘knight of the sorrowful countenance’, juxtaposing perfectly with the triumphant brass fanfares of his imagined victories. Of the three solo instruments written to be the voice of Don Quixote’s squire, Sancho Panza: viola, tenor tuba, and bass clarinet, Ausiàs Garrigós Morant’s bass clarinet solo was the standout. I unfortunately felt that Nicholas Bootiman’s viola solo, a famous aspect of the piece, got a bit lost in the third variation and didn’t bring out as much of the individual character as it could have. The final variation also felt as if it ended quite abruptly, and though it may be called ‘sehr ruhig’ (very quiet/calm), that was not the way it was conducted here.

It is hard to find something new to say about the finale, possibly the most famous and certainly the most recognisable symphony of all time. Hindoyan launched right into the first motif with what I’m coming to see as his characteristic vivacity, and all four movements seemed to fly by, which is a credit to the beauty with which it was performed as well as a result of Hindoyan’s energy and pace of conducting. The lyrical, more emotional nature of the second movement in andante was not lost, however. Throughout the whole evening, it held true that the RLPO were not afraid to be bold and dramatic, or soft and emotional when called for, making for a highly dynamic experience and bringing out the narrative of each piece.The transition between the third and fourth movements in Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, where the key shifts from minor to major for the grand finale, was performed so seamlessly that I almost wondered if I’d missed a trick, and I couldn’t help the smile of joy on my face during the final crescendo. The orchestra finished to several minutes of rapt applause and whistling from the audience, who I’m sure eventually filed out feeling the same sort of high as me.