REVIEW: Attachment Theory


Rating: 4 out of 5.

a tight and uncomfortable queer story that must be told


Having therapy is meant to fix your problems, but what if your relationship is beyond fixing?

“Attachment Theory”, written by Liam Scanlon and directed by Dom Stephens, explores the undulating forms of queer attachment and how it can tear a relationship apart. After a sold out run at Canal Cafe Theatre, the three hander took the stage at the Bread & Roses Theatre.

Ryan, played by Dan Holland, and Edward, played by Marley Brown, are an unlikely pair. Edward is the son of a high society mother, bumping drugs and spilling his heart out on a canvas, while Ryan could not be more different. A former monk with a dark past, he escaped America in exchange for London to distance himself from the life he once had. But while Ryan is happy to let sleeping dogs lie, the turbulence of his new relationship with Edward carves gaping rifts that may never be repaired.

Bernice Togher plays Dr Lucarelli, the therapist sat in the corner who ties the piece together. While Ryan and Edward dip into therapy sessions while popping out into the real world, Dr Lucarelli watches on, her questions influencing the pair in ways they cannot see. With a sofa stool, patchwork black and white when all is grey, rooted in the centre, the play’s story swirls around, spanning time and place in kaleidoscopic fashion. 

Dom Stephens’ direction keeps a tight hold on Liam Scanlon’s script, allowing the pulsing pace to race along while leaving the right breathing room for the right moments of stillness. Scanlon’s dialogue is knotty and thick, laden with juicy morsels and weighty in the mouths of the three actors. 

The play does a good job of championing love above all things, but at what cost? These feelings cannot be explained away or reasoned out with a therapist, sometimes love can only be felt, despite any better judgement. Holland and Brown are both a perfect fit and polar opposites. We can see their attraction physicalised on stage, but from their opposing views it is clear that they will not be an easy match.

What could have been a by the numbers play about a couple both seeking therapy individually crackles with a life that is elevated by smart pace and meaty dialogue. A lean fringe show that takes you on a rollercoaster ride, “Attachment Theory” is a tight and uncomfortable queer story that must be told. 

REVIEW: Guidline at New Diorama


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Dark descent into the internet age. 


Although the advent of social media is such a recent phenomena in our history, we can’t help but see that there is something primordial about the way it twists our human nature. 

“Guidelines” invites you into the dark abyss that is the internet like a Brothers Grimm folk character leading you into a black forest. After years of development, this debut work by writer Pip Williams and director James Nash, under the new company Conglomerate, is brought to the New Diorama stage, standing as both a fantastic introduction to the company and a cracking example of New Diorama’s championing of multi-disciplinary performance.

Rachel Leah-Hosker and Alexandria McCauley are the lead performers who invite us into this world. They take us through the ‘guidelines’, the terms and conditions of the contract that we all unwittingly make when we use the internet. The threat of corruption is always there, but we are encouraged to turn a blind eye to it. Leah-Hosker and McCauley bounce about the stage with satirical abandon, keeping this rendition of the Metasphere darkly comic.

But what happens when the guidelines we have agreed to abide by are manipulated and abused? A video of two girls in a forest at night circulates on social media, the reality behind which is obscured but the ripple effects are very much felt. We are made to question the outward effects of exposure to violent content, on an audience in a theatre and to children online. The evocation of this forest crafts an insidious world, one we step into every time we log online.

Nash’s direction, in tandem with the creative decisions offered by the rest of the team, not only compliment the world Williams has wrought into being, but stand as the very foundations of it. Patch Middleton’s sound design is atmospheric and unsettling, assisting in keeping an audience on the edge of their seats for the sixty minute duration. Coupled with Adi Currie’s evocative lighting design, which pulses with unnerving energy, the deepness of this forest is rendered on stage, filling you with dread as to what may lie beyond the trees. Jida Akil’s work on the set is simple but effective too, utilising swinging ropes from the ceiling to evoke both the vines of the forest and the insidious tendrils that reach down into the bowels of the internet. 

“Guidelines” is a haunting expression of the ancient depths of the human psyche, made eternal and present by the all-encompassing grasp of the internet age. 

Running until 14th February at New Diorama Theatre. 

REVIEW: Scenes from the Climate Era


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Vignettes across our current end-of-days. 


How can we exist in the era of climate disaster? How can we make a future for ourselves in the present when the damage is already done?

“Scenes from the Climate Era” by Australian, Ngunnawal country playwright David Finnigan presents a kaleidoscope of vignettes cataloguing this era of environmental devastation that man has ushered in, spanning from wildfires in Scotland to biblical storms in Wales. This is the Gate Theatre’s only offering of 2025, so all the stops have been pulled for a show that is both timely and memorable.

The Playground Theatre is the canvas for which director and Gate Theatre Artistic Lead Atri Banerjee can paint the scenes of this play upon. Minimal in presentation, the stage is set with a blue circle in its centre, conveying the fragility of our deep blue planet while surrounding it with the clinical white, decked out with curtains associated with a hospital wing: our planet is in desperate need of care.

Finnigan’s script is both ever-expansive and specific, darting across the past, present and future to encompass what it means to live in this current age. We open with a couple discussing the ethics of having a child during the climate era, demonstrating the clear cross roads we are presented with: do we carry on as normal or make changes to our future? 

The biggest issue that the play tries to balance is the same problem that plagues climate discourse in political and private spheres alike – why should I care about the planet? Not only is this question tackled head on, the very nature of this dichotomy is imbedded into the fabric of the play. The actors switch briskly between climate conferences and monologues of disasters affecting the average person, but we are rarely implored to be scared or convinced or persuaded by some form of argument. Finnigan presents us with truths that we can digest at our own pace, predictably giving no answers to this crisis but instead suggesting how we can continue to exist through it. 

The stages of grief are applied to our relation to the climate crisis, demonstrating how all the feelings we have – denial, optimism, anger, despair – are all natural reactions to a threat that we can no longer avoid. These stages intertwine with the big moments and the small, showcasing how existence is possible in the face of certain change. 

The ensemble are stellar: Miles Barrow, Peyvand Sadeghian, Ziggy Heath and Harriet Gordon-Anderson, who carries over from the original Australian run, are always engaging to watch. At times, the abrupt transfer from one scene to the next does not allow for the actors to fully inhabit the roles in the eyes of a viewer, but the moments of levity are incredibly impactful.

A show that always looks to the future, “Scenes from the Climate Era” is a triumph for the Gate Theatre and a must-see production. 

REVIEW: Good Girls Don’t Go To Hell


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Five women named Cecily find out what it means to be a Cecily.


What is the “right way” to be a woman?

Five women, who all happen to be called Cecily, battle with what it means to be a woman in A. A. Brenner’s new work-in-progress production of “Good Girls Don’t Go To Hell” at the Divine in Dalston. Directed by Emma Denson, this new play’s attitude to form, it’s zany but real characters and its unique voice all show huge promise for a fully fledged production.

After an introduction from God herself, we meet Good Girl Cecily, played by Beth Graham, and Boss-Bitch Cecily, played by Kemah Bob, in a cafe. Realising that they share the same unique name, as does Good Girl Cecily’s best friend Save-Me Cecily, played by Eliza Martin, they form a council of Cecily’s to form friendships and discuss issues of relationships and the patriarchy. Tiggy Bayley rounds out the cast as the awkward Shut-In Cecily, with Tahiris Adames introduced in the second act as the wily Sexpot Cecily.

Each actor shines in their roles and makes you forget that this is a work-in-progress performance. Everyone is perfectly cast, in particular Martin as the bubbly, anxiety-ridden Save-Me Cecily. From queer awakenings to inevitable break ups to existential questionings of life, this cast of characters covers it, but they bring a real heart and pathos to these themes.

In terms of form, we are led through this world as a standard play, but this structure is broken when the show concludes with a lip-sync cabaret hosted by Femmi as the Burning Bush. This was a fiery way to end the piece, but it left me wanting to see this cabaret motif as more of framing device linking the play together.

The script is jam-packed with fantastic ideas, but few are given the full exploration that they deserve. Adames’ character of Sexpot Cecily is set up as a sassy new love interest for Good Girl Cecily, but this idea is only lightly touched upon, giving Adames very little to do in their role. Wacky concepts, like how two of our Cecily’s run a greeting card writing business, are set up and then forgotten. There are so many great ideas, they just need the time to grow.

“Good Girls Don’t Go To Hell” may be in the embryonic stages, but it is already a great night out. The potential for a great play is here and I cannot wait to see its best elements brought to their zenith for a future production.

REVIEW: Burnt Toast


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“Twin Peaks meets cannibalistic absurdism.”

What if the baggage you carry with you is the only thing keeping you alive?

This question, and many, many others, are percolated in “Burnt Toast”, a squelchy, uncomfortable exhibition of absurdist-horror theatre. Created by multidisciplinary Norwegian company Susie Wang, this feast of the eyes was brought to the Battersea Arts Centre’s Grand Hall stage for only two sold out nights.

Upon entering the Grand Hall we are welcomed by the scene of a vibrant hotel lobby, ripped from the bowls of roadside spot in the Deep South. Red velvet carpet coats the stage, while plush, fleshy bean bags are scattered across the foyer. 

Betty, played by Julie Solberg, stands at the reception desk, tapping away loudly. Two elevators, one that goes up and one that goes down, bookend the back wall of the stage – this is where Danny, played by Kim Atle Hansen, enters from, his hand handcuffed to a briefcase. Once he checks in, he meets Violet, played by Mona Solhaug, a new mother who coddles her baby daughter in the lobby. An unnerving spark ignites between them, catapulting them through this journey of a performance. 

“Burnt Toast” is not for the faint of heart. Bloody, violent and sacrilegious moments highlight the performance, bursting out from the uncanny reality we are presented with. Twisted cannibalism rears its ugly head, disturbing the audience to the point where they might ask – how much more can we take? But this is absurdism after all, and the twisted world we are captured in is one of off-kilter comedic beats – chuckles of disbelief did abound. Scenography work by Bo Krister Wallstrøm is impeccable, creating a hotel lobby that harkens back to the likes of the Red Room in “Twin Peaks” and the decor of “The Shining”. 

Much can be taken from the thematic content of this performance and that is its strongest element. But just as you think you grasp what they are trying to say, they throw something new your way. The power of dependence and generational trauma flit through as symbolic links to the events in the performance, but more can be read into this tight but inventive production.

Susie Wang prove the power of bloody absurdism with the unnerving but impacting performance of “Burnt Toast” – a show that you won’t soon forget. 

REVIEW: Heisenberg


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Queer retelling of a Simon Stephens two-hander.


What can you expect when you take an unexpected route late in life?

The Arcola Theatre’s new production of Simon Stephens’ play “Heisenberg”, which first debuted in 2015, takes a new spin on the two-hander by queering the original narrative. Taking place in the Arcola’s studio space, this intimate revival brings to life a bit of the magic of the original with much-needed fresh representation.

Upon taking your seats you are greeted by the presence of two solitary chairs – possible stand ins for the characters we are about to meet. Whilst sitting on a bench in a train station in London, Alex, played by Jenny Galloway, is jolted out of her reverie when Georgie, played by Faline England, kisses her on the back of the neck without permission. This unlikely interaction kickstarts the descent into an unexpected relationship that sees this unlikely couple growing closer and closer, all the while well-kept secrets are held close to home.

Galloway and England expertly take on these very distinct characters. England plays Georgie as an insufferable American woman in her 50s, loveable but at times grating on the ears – this is very much the point. Galloway’s portrayal of the 75-year-old butcher Alex is built in layers of subtextual nuance – a brilliantly evocative performance. The two together lead the audience through the subtleties of their lives, opening up small compartments in which we can nestle for a time before being ejected back into the harsh reality they live in.

This is a perfect example Stephens’ writing style in action. An uncanny character portrait of two souls who find each other despite the oddest of circumstances, he manages to weave their seperate storylines together in a deft fashion.

Although I believe more could have been done to bring the theatricality of the play to life. The pacing suffered at times as the action was not switched up often enough to maintain attention. As well, the sound design by Hugh Sheehan was oddly placed – used to create atmosphere for locations such as restaurants or train stations, the soundscapes provided instead grated on the ears as they seemed to rise and fall in volume for no reason, distracting from the text. While the lighting design by Rajiv Pattani was a bit too sparse for certain moments, and ill-fitting to the layout of the Arcola’s studio space.

All in all, “Heisenberg” is an enduring work by one of our great playwrights, brought to life by gender-bending that subtly reworks the powerful message of the play. 

REVIEW: Paradise Lost (lies unopened beside me)


Rating: 4 out of 5.

One-man movement-based rendition of “Paradise Lost”


What if everything you worked to create suddenly fell out of control? Adapting John Milton’s 1667 epic poem Paradise Lost would be no small feat for any medium, but when taken into the realm of a one-man dance piece the epic quality of the original text is brought down to earth. Crafted by Ben Duke with his award-winning dance company Lost Dog, this original performance is brought back to life after ten years to take the Battersea Arts Centre’s Council Chambers by storm in a flurry of hellfire.


Milton’s Paradise Lost is a multi-layered epic that tells the story of the creation of the universe by God, Lucifer’s fall from Heaven and the Angelic War that succeeded it. The age old tale of Adam and Eve’s expulsion from the Garden of Eden is described, foreshadowing the future consequences that this event has on human history.

Lead performer Sharif Afifi takes on the task of recreating all of this lore, mainly through
ecstatic movement and expressive dance. With the stage bare, aside from a wide white cloth, Afifi has little else but his body, and a bunch of chickpeas and rope, to recreate the biblical battles of Heaven. But his impressive use of expression and rapid movements have the power to manufacture the biggest battles and smallest scenes within the audience’s minds.


The power of this rendition of Paradise Lost is in the way that it does not take itself too seriously. Afifi brings us into his world by beginning to the read a section of the original text, only to assure a woman in the audience that he is in fact not going to read the whole thing. This joking quality to his performance immediately ensnares the audience, allowing us to take in his rendition of the piece with a smile on our faces.


Intertwined through his evocations of the doings of God and Lucifer, Afifi occasionally takes us into the modern day. Short scenes of him lovingly coaxing his daughter to get into the car or moments of meta-theatre which see him rehearsing for the exact show we are watching are interspersed. These aspects elevate the piece, because they begin to draw parallels between God’s own creations and that of a normal, human father. What do we do if we cannot control our creations? What does it feel to have all the power in the world but someone – your little daughter, Adam and Eve – just won’t listen to you?

Equal parts playful and profound, this re-staging of Lost Dog’s captivating one-man show is an absolute must see.

REVIEW: One Day When We Were Young


Rating: 3 out of 5.

Time jumping relationship drama permeates quiet sadness.


Time can destroy a relationship. It can also be the tool to heal one.

“One Day When We Were Young” is a simple tale of a couple whose time never came to be. Strung across three time periods, this two hander, originally debuting in 2011, hits the Park Theatre’s Park90 space for an intimate and heartfelt run.

Written by Nick Payne, famous for his classic play “Constellations” and more recently his screen work on the Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield starring film “We Live in Time”, the piece explores his usual penchant for non-linearity.

We follow one couple, Violet played by Cassie Bradley and Leonard played by Barney White, from the midst of the Second World War, to 1960s Bath and ending in early 2000s Luton. Thematically we are made to confront the notion of “what could’ve been” – as their lives together, broken up by war, take veering paths into their own futures.

James Haddrell as director keeps a tight hold on the script. He succeeds in bringing the best he can out of his actors, with Bradley and White giving impeccable performances as the eponymous couple. White’s performance of Leonard is heart-warming and nuanced, while Bradley performs age, old and young, to a stellar level. Where Haddrell fails is in his control of the pacing, as huge chunks of the play drag unnecessarily, especially in the first scene which lacks the sense of tension it deserves.

Although the script is far from predictable to the uninitiated, it is hard to say that it is a tense watch that makes you wonder what will happen next. The power in the play is the quiet sadness that comes from a relationship that never had its time to bloom and the power that reconciliation can have on those involved. But at times that power can’t sustain the show’s 90 minute runtime.

Pollyanna Elston’s design for the set is simple but effective, inhabiting each time period without much in the way of incongruous juxtapositions. Although, I would love to see a version of this play that does more with less.

All in all, “One Day When We Were Young” is a low-thrills rendition of Nick Payne’s writing style on display, brought to the finish line by two incredible actors.

REVIEW: Frau Trapp: Five Lines


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Theatre, cinema, miniatures and trumpet combine for a dystopian tale


How can we create our own utopia?

Swiss based theatre group Frau Trapp bring their debut show, “Five Lines”, to the Barbican Centre’s Pit space as part of MimeLondon 2025. A master class in micro-cinema theatre, “Five Lines” explores what it means to be human in the face of disaster and repression.

Frau Trapp is the brainchild of Matteo Frau and Mina Trapp, artists from multidisciplinary backgrounds that combine their experience of clowning, circus, puppeteering, set design and trumpet-playing to create a wholly unique piece of art. Having taken a course on micro-cinema theatre together, Trapp and Frau banded together to explore this innovative, new form of performance. Born out of the horrors of the COVID-19 pandemic, the genesis of “Five Lines” began.

Following fictionalised versions of Frau and Trapp themselves, the story of “Five Lines” takes a dive when an earthquake, coupled by numerous other environmental catastrophes, hits the city they live. The answer: T.O.P.O.. A new cooperation who have built an entire underground city to house the refugee population, Frau and Trapp become one cog in the capitalist machine, disappearing into the mass of people kept confined under the earth. What will it take for them to find the will to fight back?

This tale asks interesting questions about the power of art in oppressive societies and what we can do to keep our humanity in the face of homogenisation. But it is how these themes are coupled with the mediums that are employed which sparks the most insight.

Utilising live video projection, cameras on hand held stabilisers scan across miniature city vistas, accompanied by tiny paper figurines of citizens and characters. The textures of the walls of the buildings give a grungy life to their facades. Tiny cars move on miniature tracks. LED desk lights are shone across the landscapes and plumes of haze emerge from the ground.

There is honestly too much to mention when it comes to how “Five Lines” utilising their miniature models, decked out across three tables on the stage. The way that Frau, Trapp and their two supporting performers seamlessly blend their manipulation of the set into a non-stop, live film is incredible to watch – like an intricately choreographed movement piece.

Frau also dazzles with his trumpet. Played live to a backing track, the trumpet becomes the musical motif across “Five Lines”, knitting together each scene with a smooth and swanky melody.

The culmination of all of these disparate elements, from live projection to miniatures and trumpet, is a sight to behold. Frau Trapp have excelled in creating a wholly unique work of art that should be seen by all.

REVIEW: Séayoncé’s Perky Nativititties


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Debauched Christmas hijinks from two drag stars


Are you in need of some anti-Christmas cheer this year? Perhaps a visit to the wacky realm of Séayoncé will be just the treat.

After the success of previous shows such as She Must Be Hung! at Soho Theatre, Séayoncé’s Perky Nativititties hits the Yard Theatre’s stage for the drag artists’ longest ever London run. The brainchild of performer Dan Wye, he is accompanied by fellow drag performer Robyn Herfellow to provide a silly night of camp Christmas fun.

Upon entering the space, we are met with the insides of a shonky television set of a living room on the eve of Christmas, replete with tinsel, trees and presents. We are at Satan Studios, where Séayoncé has managed to secure a slot for her festive shows. But not all is as it seems.

For the first half, we must contend with an outer force attempting to commandeer the show, distorting the usually foul-mouthed humour in favour family friendly content. This will not do. Séayoncé must fix this before they all end up on the naughty list. This plot device is fun, but has the unfortunate effect of nullifying the first half of the show, as the piece only really kicks into gear in the second act. Séayoncé’s Perky Nativititties is at its best when the puns are coming thick and fast.

Robyn Herfellow’s embodiment of Leslie, a rough and ready queen, provides a respite and balance to Séayoncé’s raucous humour. They take on the musical duties, providing a piano backdrop to the show, accompanying Séayoncé for many of her boisterous Christmas parody songs. Their cockney geezer persona is the perfect foil to Séayoncé’s extravagance, but their presence is slightly under used. It would have been great to have more of a rapport between the duo, especially in the segments which heavily rely on Séayoncé’s monologic delivery.

The manner of absurdity that the audience is brought into is creatively fuelled. From Santa being an ex-lover of Séayoncé’s come to exact his revenge to making spiritual contact with Jesus Christ live on air, the surreal comedy is a camp and inventive feast for the senses. Although there is a smattering of audience participation, from sing-a-longs to gift giving, this could have been further expanded for comedic effect.

All in all, Séayoncé’s Perky Nativititties is a masterclass in camp comedy, bound together in a tight red bow for your viewing pleasure.