REVIEW: Operation Mincemeat


Rating: 5 out of 5.

To agree with Monty and the whole team, “God, that’s brilliant.”


Walking into the New Theatre for Operation Mincemeat, I knew exactly what I was in for. This was my fifth time seeing the show, and yet it still managed to feel fresh, sharp and just as entertaining as ever. Even with a few subtle changes from its West End run, the heart of the production remains completely intact, continuing to land both its comedy and its emotional beats with ease.

Telling the extraordinary true story of the WWII deception operation that helped turn the tide of the war, Operation Mincemeat is fast-paced, inventive and entirely driven by its cast. With just five performers taking on a huge range of roles, the success of the show rests almost entirely on their shoulders. Thankfully, this cast more than delivers, working as a tightly controlled ensemble that never drops energy or precision.

Holly Sumpton’s Monty was a standout, full of swagger and self-confidence while still maintaining that slightly ridiculous sense of dignity the role demands, very much “like a cow.” Christian Andrews brought real emotional weight to ‘Dear Bill’, landing the moment with sincerity and control, while also matching the show’s comic rhythm elsewhere. Sean Carey was a brilliant lolloping sidekick, bouncing off Monty’s energy with ease and clarity.

Charlotte Hanna-Williams was a perfect plucky heroine, full of warmth and determination. Her performance in ‘Useful’, alongside Andrews, was a particular highlight.

It’s one of my favourite songs in the show, and they did it complete justice. Jamie-Rose Monk, the only cast member new to Operation Mincemeat, slotted in seamlessly. Her take on Haselden was a joy to watch, and she more than held her own alongside an already well-established company.

Having previously seen the show in the more intimate setting of the Fortune Theatre, the move to the much larger New Theatre inevitably shifts the dynamic. Some of that closeness is lost, but the production adapts well to the bigger space without losing its momentum. A few entrance changes and small staging tweaks have been introduced, along with a fun addition to Monty’s moment in the glitzy finale. These are not major alterations, but they offer something new for returning audiences.

What remains unchanged is the show’s ability to connect with its audience. The atmosphere in the theatre was electric, with consistent laughter throughout and a clear sense of shared enjoyment. By the final number, the entire audience was fully on board, culminating in a well-earned standing ovation. Even bringing along someone new to the show, it was clear how quickly it wins people over, with lines already being quoted on the way out.

Operation Mincemeat continues to prove why it has built such a loyal following. Smart, inventive and packed with standout performances, it holds up brilliantly, whether it is your first visit or your fifth. And honestly, to agree with Monty and the whole team, “God, that’s brilliant.”

This show runs at New Theatre Oxford until 4th April. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?


Rating: 5 out of 5.

This production trusted its material and its audience. Even going in unfamiliar with the story, none of that mattered. The performances carried it entirely, and the room was completely with them


Walking into the Oxford Playhouse for Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, I knew very little about the plot and even less about what to expect. What unfolded over the course of the evening was a masterclass in controlled chaos: blistering, exhausting and utterly gripping from start to finish. It is the first straight play in a long while that I have given a standing ovation to.

At its core, Albee’s play is a brutal dissection of marriage. George and Martha invite a younger couple, Nick and Honey, back to their home after a faculty party. What begins as late-night drinks quickly spirals into an unrelenting psychological battleground as secrets are exposed and carefully constructed illusions begin to fracture. It is funny, cruel, deeply uncomfortable and, in the right hands, electric.

And here, it was electric.

Matthew Pidgeon’s George and Katy Stephens’ Martha were phenomenal, evenly matched in every sense. Their dynamic was razor-sharp. Verbal blows landed with precision only to be returned seconds later with equal force. There was no sense of one overpowering the other. Instead, it felt like watching two heavyweights circling the ring, each calculating the next strike. The speed of delivery was astonishing. Lines were fired off at pace without ever losing clarity, and the rhythm never slipped. It was exhausting in the best possible way, a controlled demolition rather than messy bickering.

Ben Hall’s Nick and Leah Haile’s Honey held their own against that intensity. Honey, so often reduced to comic relief, was given welcome depth here. Beneath the humour was a vulnerability that made her increasingly sympathetic as the night unravelled. Nick, ambitious and quietly opportunistic, provided a sharp counterpoint to George’s simmering cynicism.

The design grounded the chaos beautifully. The traditional living room set, complete with an impressive collection of books loaned by Blackwell’s, immediately established George’s academic world. It had a very clear “I’m a history professor” energy. Much of the action unfolded within the triangular space formed by the sofa and two armchairs, creating a kind of arena in the centre of the room. Yet the characters could break out to the bar, the desk or offstage to the kitchen and bathroom, allowing the tension to expand and contract naturally.

Lighting subtly charted the emotional descent. The warm glow of table lamps in the early hours gradually hardened as the night wore on, almost without you noticing. The final image was quietly devastating. Morning light streamed through a stage-right window, the rest of the room in darkness, as George sat cradling Martha. That single shaft of “sunshine” held the stage before slowly fading to black. It was simple, restrained and deeply affecting.

This production trusted its material and its audience. Even going in unfamiliar with the story, none of that mattered. The performances carried it entirely, and the room was completely with them.

Five stars, without hesitation. It runs until 7th March — get there.

REVIEW: The Constant Wife


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A superb piece of theatre: stylish, confident, and consistently engaging


Walking into the Oxford Playhouse for The Constant Wife, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect beyond a sharp comedy of manners. What I found instead was a superb piece of theatre: stylish, confident, and consistently engaging, with performances and design working in seamless collaboration.

Set in 1927, the play follows Constance, a woman who appears to have everything: a comfortable life, a devoted husband, and a close-knit social circle. Yet beneath the surface, her marriage is quietly unravelled by her husband’s affair with her best friend. What could easily become a conventional farce is instead a clever and surprisingly modern exploration of autonomy, emotional labour, and what it means to reclaim control in a society determined to keep women contained.

The performances were outstanding across the board, with not a weak link in sight. The cast worked as a tight, responsive unit, balancing humour and emotional precision with ease. Kara Tointon was particularly impressive as Constance, leading the production with warmth, restraint, and a quiet authority that made her eventual transformation deeply satisfying. Her performance grounded the play, allowing the comedy to flourish while ensuring the emotional stakes never slipped into caricature.

Visually, the production was a joy to watch. The set was minimal but remarkably flexible, transforming subtly to mark shifts in time and circumstance. With small changes — peeling wallpaper, a different fireplace, altered doorways — the space effortlessly moved the audience back a year, creating a sense of progression without interrupting the flow of the action. It was clever, economical staging that trusted the audience to notice and appreciate the details.

Costume design played a similarly important role in storytelling. The colour palette was rich and cohesive, filled with corals, yellows, blues, and greens that brought warmth and texture to the stage. The costumes were both beautiful and versatile, helping to define character while remaining fluid enough to support the fast-moving narrative. (Constance’s navy blue and gold coat was a particular standout.) Together, set and costume design created a world that felt polished, playful, and period-perfect without becoming overbearing.

Lighting and sound worked in close collaboration to support the storytelling. Subtle shifts in lighting, paired with music, clearly marked changes in time and mood, guiding the audience through the narrative with precision. While the sound levels were occasionally on the louder side, it never became distracting and largely served to enhance the atmosphere.

Directed by RSC Co-Artistic Director Tamara Harvey, this production felt assured in what it was trying to say and how it chose to say it. It trusted its material and its audience, allowing the humour and themes to land naturally. By the final moments, it was clear why this production has generated such enthusiasm; it lingered well beyond the curtain call, prompting plenty of conversation on the walk out.

Overall, this was a sparkling, intelligent, and thoroughly satisfying piece of theatre, and one I would highly recommend seeing.

REVIEW: Company


Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

The production feels designed primarily for existing Sondheim fans


Walking into the Oxford Playhouse for Stephen Sondheim’s Company, I was conscious that this was a musical I was coming to with fresh eyes. While Sondheim’s work has never fully clicked for me, I was open to being surprised. What I found instead was a production that was clearly ambitious and carefully put together, but one that often felt inaccessible, particularly for those unfamiliar with the show.

From early on, issues with sound made it difficult to fully engage with the narrative. While the orchestra, led by musical director Tom Constantinou, sounded polished and confident, they frequently overwhelmed the performers. Lyrics and dialogue were often lost beneath the music, which is a significant problem in a show so dependent on clarity and wordplay. A handful of microphone issues only added to this, making it harder to follow character relationships and emotional beats, especially for a first-time audience member.

Visually, the production leaned heavily into bold but abstract design choices. The set, styled like a soft play area complete with a slide used repeatedly throughout the show, was striking but confusing. The symbolism behind this choice never fully revealed itself, and rather than enhancing the themes of adulthood, commitment, and emotional stagnation, it often distracted from them. Lighting design had its moments, but was inconsistent overall; at times performers were left in shadow as spotlights shifted awkwardly towards Bobby, creating moments that felt unpolished rather than intentional.

Aaron Gelkoff’s Bobby was solidly performed, with a strong vocal presence, but the character remained emotionally distant. While competent, the performance lacked the depth needed to anchor the show, making it difficult to care about Bobby’s journey or the relationships that surround him. This distance was compounded by a dream-like sequence introduced partway through the production, which, for those unfamiliar with Company, felt confusing and unnecessary. Rather than offering insight, it muddied the narrative and slowed the momentum.

Musically, there were moments where the production found its footing. ‘Getting Married Today’ stood out as a highlight, with Rosie Sutton delivering a confident and well-paced performance as Amy. The song was handled with precision and energy, offering a glimpse of what the production could have been with greater clarity and restraint elsewhere.

One notable choice was the use of real cigarettes on stage. While presumably intended to heighten realism, it felt unnecessary and distracting, adding little to the storytelling while pulling focus from the performances.

It is important to acknowledge that this is a university student production, and staging a musical of this scale is no small achievement. The commitment and ambition on display were evident throughout. However, Company ultimately felt like a production created with existing Sondheim fans in mind. For those already familiar with the musical, there may be much to admire, but for newcomers, it risks feeling confusing and emotionally distant.

REVIEW: Music at Oxford: 90 years of Arvo Part – Merton College Choir and Britten Sinfonia


Rating: 4 out of 5.

This wasn’t just a birthday concert. It was a powerful tribute, beautifully performed, thoughtfully curated, and deeply moving


Walking into the Sheldonian Theatre on Tuesday 11 November, I knew little about Arvo Pärt beyond the fact that he was turning 90. The packed-out hall and palpable buzz hinted I was in for something special. Despite the Shedonian’s medieval seating, the atmosphere was one of genuine anticipation for an evening of music that proved both transcendent and deeply human.

The programme tried its best to explain Pärt’s signature tintinnabuli style. But as someone without a musical background, I’ll be honest — most of it went over my head. That didn’t matter. The music spoke for itself. This wasn’t a lecture in composition, it was a reminder that you don’t need to be an expert to be moved by music.

The highlights came thick and fast. The Merton College Girls’ Choristers brought a fresh, radiant tone to Vater Unser, a short but powerful piece that filled the space with clarity and emotion. Berliner Messe preceded it and was delivered with quiet intensity: reverent, measured, and full of that contemplative stillness Pärt is known for. The Sheldonian’s acoustics suited it perfectly, each phrase lingering just long enough to settle.

But it was Haydn’s Nelson Mass that stole the show. With the full Merton Choir, the Girls’ Choristers, the Britten Sinfonia, and four phenomenal soloists — Sophie Bevan, Lucy Gibbs, Ruairi Bowen and Gareth Brynmor John — the performance was on another level. The vocal blend was rich without being overpowering, and the energy from the ensemble never dipped. Every movement had momentum and clarity, giving the whole piece a real sense of occasion.

The concert also marked the start of Oxford’s week-long celebration of Pärt’s music. Estonia’s Ambassador to the UK, H.E. Sven Sakkov, was in attendance and has been named Patron of the Festival. It’s a fitting connection to Pärt’s home country and the cultural weight his work carries there. Festival Director Rebecca Dawson noted how support from the Estonian Embassy and the Arvo Pärt Centre had shaped the ambition and scale of the project. In the programme, the Ambassador captured the tone perfectly: “Pärt’s music reminds us that beauty often lies in simplicity, and that silence can be as meaningful as sound.”

This wasn’t just a birthday concert. It was a powerful tribute, beautifully performed, thoughtfully curated, and deeply moving. You didn’t need to know a thing about tintinnabuli to walk away feeling like you’d witnessed something remarkable.

REVIEW: Emma


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A warm, witty Austen adaptation that even won over this Emma novice.”


Walking into the Oxford Playhouse for Emma, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Never having read the book or seen a previous version I lacked previous knowledge of the story and was bracing for a lot of characters in bonnets and a plot I might struggle to follow. What I got instead was a warm, funny, thoughtfully staged production that had the audience (including me) fully charmed.

The set was simple but effective: clean, minimal, and clever with lighting to help us shift between indoor drawing rooms and outdoor garden strolls. Nothing flashy, but it didn’t need to be, it let the characters and dialogue take centre stage. Scene changes were slick, using ensemble characters as members of the household, which kept the pace flowing nicely in the first half, and the whole thing had a polished feel without ever becoming stuffy.

India Shaw-Smith was a clear standout as Emma: charismatic, confident, and completely watchable. She held the whole piece together with ease, moving between comedy and sincerity as Emma’s emotional arc unfolded. William Chubb also deserves a special mention as the hypochondriac Mr Woodhouse, his comic timing was spot on and clearly a hit with the audience.

The rest of the cast were strong across the board, and you could feel how well they worked together as an ensemble. While the plot got a little bogged down in the second half (especially if, like me, you’re new to the story and can see the ending from a mile off), the performances still carried it through. A slightly tighter final act wouldn’t have hurt, but it never lost its charm.

What surprised me most was just how funny the show was. The humour landed again and again, gentle in tone but genuinely laugh-out-loud in places. It felt faithful to Austen’s wit but didn’t rely on the audience knowing the book inside out. The room was full of audible enjoyment from start to finish, whether people were longtime fans or not.In short: this Emma was a thoughtful, well-performed adaptation with a lightness of touch and a real sense of joy. It’s unlikely to convert Austen-sceptics, but if you’re open to a period drama that knows exactly what it’s doing — and does it well — it’s absolutely worth seeing.

Emma plays at the Oxford Playhouse until 25th October. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: The Party Girls


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Visually striking, brilliantly acted, and unafraid to challenge its audience. If you can still get hold of a ticket, it’s absolutely not one to miss.


Walking into the Oxford Playhouse for The Party Girls, I had no prior knowledge of the Mitford sisters, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. What I found was a piece of theatre that was visually slick, tightly performed, and thematically challenging in all the right ways.

The production immediately set the tone with a silk-like curtain billowing gently on stage. This wasn’t just decoration: throughout the performance, the curtain became a projection screen for time and place, guiding the audience through seamless jumps from 1942 to 1932 and forward to 1969. Behind it, the set shifted fluidly, creating a sense of cinematic transition that never stalled the action. Designer Simon Kenny and lighting designer Aideen Malone deserve huge credit here, the staging transported us from Washington D.C. to Oxfordshire and out to France with elegance and clarity. The moving set pieces also meant the drama never paused for clunky scene changes, which kept the energy alive.

Equally impressive was the work of Kelly Cox (wigs, hair, and make-up). The transformations were so strong that by the time the story jumped to 1969, I genuinely had to double-check whether the same actors were on stage. The aging process was subtle yet convincing, adding depth and realism to the storytelling.

As for the performances themselves, every actor brought something distinct, making it impossible to single anyone out. They all worked as a unit, balancing humour, charm, and the darker undertones of the narrative. The pacing felt spot-on, carrying us through decades of history without dragging or feeling rushed. If I had one critique, it would be that in moments of shouting, some of the intensity slipped. The delivery occasionally felt a bit forced, where a more controlled rawness might have kept the tension sharper. Still, this was a minor blip in an otherwise excellent set of performances.

The play doesn’t shy away from the uncomfortable, particularly the openly antisemitic views expressed by Unity and Diana Mitford. In today’s world, hearing such rhetoric on stage is jarring, but it’s also essential. These views were a real part of history, and the production didn’t sanitise or sidestep them. Instead, it forced the audience to confront the disturbing reality of how these women aligned themselves with fascism. The discomfort in the room was palpable, which only highlighted how effectively the actors delivered these moments. Theatre isn’t just about entertainment; it’s also about holding up a mirror to society, and The Party Girls did exactly that.

Overall, this was a fantastic piece of theatre: visually striking, brilliantly acted, and unafraid to challenge its audience. If you can still get hold of a ticket, it’s absolutely not one to miss.

REVIEW: Improbable Sessions


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“Improbable Sessions is experimental theatre at its most alive: bold, imaginative, and unafraid to blur boundaries.”


Improbable Sessions: AI and Consciousness at the Oxford Playhouse was an evening of ingenuity, unpredictability, and surprising resonance. Bringing together improvised music with thoughtful commentary on artificial intelligence, the performance created a wholly unique dialogue between sound and ideas that left the audience captivated.

The stage, minimal at first glance, became a canvas for invention. A pianist, cellist (Juliet Colyer), violinist, a range of wind (Max Gittings) and percussion instruments (Joley Cragg), and a vocalist combined to form an ensemble that built each piece from a single note into layered, shifting soundscapes. Guided by the pianist-conductor, the music unfolded with spontaneity, embracing risk and reward in equal measure.

Threaded through these improvisations were three short talks on artificial intelligence. Each reflection on creativity, consciousness and the unpredictability of new technologies found immediate responses from the musicians. A striking highlight came when one speaker described AI as “a cat out of the bag.” The vocalist transformed this image into a playful yet poignant vocal improvisation, supported by the ensemble’s witty and inventive accompaniment. The result was as humorous as it was thought-provoking

What distinguished the evening was its interplay of intellect and artistry. At times playful, at times deeply moving, the music was never mere backdrop; it challenged, complemented, and illuminated the spoken word in real time. The performers’ willingness to embrace mistakes and surprises gave the event an honesty and immediacy that felt rare.

The intimacy of the Oxford Playhouse heightened every detail, from the delicate resonance of strings to the smallest breath of the vocalist. By the final notes, the atmosphere was electric, and conversation buzzed long after the performance ended — proof of the event’s impact.

Improbable Sessions is experimental theatre at its most alive: bold, imaginative, and unafraid to blur boundaries. It is an experience that lingers, inviting audiences to continue the dialogue it sparks. An evening not easily forgotten.

REVIEW: Much Ado About Nothing


Rating: 3 out of 5.

It’s not the slickest Shakespeare you’ll ever see, but if you’re after a fun, feel-good evening in a stunning setting, this one’s worth your time.


On a beautiful, warm evening, there’s really no better setting for Shakespeare than at the Oxford Castle. The open-air atmosphere adds a certain magic, and even though the actors have to project more without microphones, the unique setup with the audience on three sides means they don’t have to worry too much about sight lines. That said, for the first twenty minutes of this production, Oscar Luckett, who played Claudio, faced upstage a bit too much, which made it hard to catch some of his lines from where I was sitting. So while the three-sided audience arrangement is awesome, the actors still need to make sure they turn and project to all sides.

The director, Paul Alex Nicholls, was very welcoming and made sure I had a great seat, which definitely helped me soak it all in and appreciate every detail.

The set was simple but effective, with just a central dais, some plants and a bar that transformed into Hero’s tomb later on. The actors made great use of the set, especially during those sneaky, secretive scenes where they had to hide or eavesdrop.

Performance-wise, I felt the men really stood out. Billy Morton as Benedick was fantastic, he nailed the comedic timing and brought out Benedick’s softer and more intense sides really well. Craig Finley, who juggled multiple roles, also made the Shakespearean lines feel natural and engaging, which is no easy feat.

On the flip side, I did feel the women’s performances were a bit stiff at times, which made some scenes harder to follow. Eliza Blackwell as Beatrice had a great grasp of the language, but some of her movements felt a bit distracting and unnatural, which took away from the immersion just a little bit.

The pacing had its ups and downs, and there were a few moments that dragged a bit, at one point in Act Two, there was some dead stage time that could have been tightened up but there were also some real highlights. The scene where Leonato, Don Pedro, and Claudio trick Benedick into believing Beatrice loves him was absolutely brilliant and had everyone laughing out loud.

The audience really seemed to enjoy the interactive elements, even if not everyone was thrilled about being pulled into the action and the 1940s setting was a really nice touch, with great costumes and a vintage vibe. The music and dancing added some nice breaks between scenes, even if some choices were a little unexpected.

In the end, if you’re looking for a fun, easygoing evening of Shakespeare in a gorgeous setting, this production is definitely worth checking out. It might not be the slickest, most professional performance out there, but you’ll still have a great time and leave with a smile.

REVIEW: Little Women


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A thoughtful, character-driven production that’s not flawless, but full of charm and worth seeing


Last night, I caught Anne-Marie Casey’s adaptation of Little Women at the Oxford Playhouse (running Tuesday 27 – Saturday 31 May), and overall, it was a really enjoyable night at the theatre. The script keeps the heart of Louisa May Alcott’s classic alive, while trimming and adapting the plot into a production that feels both familiar and fresh.

The dynamic among the March sisters was authentic, believable, and full of warmth. You really felt their sibling bond, from the small gestures to the bigger emotional moments. The set design helped sell this too: it had a cozy, homey vibe, with simple but clever elements like movable bookcases and curtain dividers that shifted the scenes without breaking the flow. Visually, it felt like you were sitting right in the March family’s living room, which made the emotional beats hit harder.

That said, there were a few bumps. The small cast and the show’s runtime meant that energy dipped at times. Some scenes felt a little sluggish, and there were moments where the pacing could have used a jolt. An extra cast member wouldn’t have gone amiss, especially with characters like Mr. March being completely absent. His return could’ve offered an emotional anchor near the end and given the production one more layer of resolution. Jack Ashton handled multiple roles (John Brooke, Professor Bhaer) well, but it still left the show feeling slightly underpopulated. A few more bodies on stage might’ve added more dynamic movement and kept things snappier.

Performance-wise, the standout for me was Belinda Lang as Aunt March. She had razor-sharp comedic timing and owned every scene she was in, easily a crowd favourite. Ellie Pawsey, stepping in as Marmee, was also brilliant. She brought a quiet strength and warmth to the role that really grounded the family and gave emotional weight to the more reflective scenes.

As someone new to Little Women, I found it accessible and easy to follow, even if some of the accents were a bit jarring or hard to catch in places. The emotional high point for me was the confrontation between Jo and Amy early on. It started slowly but built into something raw and powerful that clearly hit the audience hard.

Overall, this is a solid, heartfelt production with plenty of charm. Not flawless, but definitely worth seeing, especially if you’re after something thoughtful, character-driven, and beautifully staged.