Author: leahj

REVIEW: Òran

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

A myth for the modern age, exploring themes of modern boyhood through the tale of Orpheus’s descent into the underworld.

In this immersive one-man show, Òran retells the myth of Orpheus’s descent into the underworld through a modern Scottish lens. In the original Greek tale, Orpheus sets out to rescue his lover Eurydice from Hades. In this version, Òran loses a childhood friend (Euan) to the pressures of modern adolescence, and descends into a cyber hell to rescue him from the clutches of a sinister online world. Performer Robbie Gordon brings this tale to life with an electric storytelling style, setting the scene with an approachable, conversational energy as he ropes in audience members for various roles in this interactive tale. This new work, written by Owen Sutcliffe and staged by Wonder Fools, has just debuted in London after a critically-acclaimed run at the Edinburgh Fringe this summer.

The story begins with an imagined phone call from Òran to Euan, his childhood friend, as he reminisces about how bravely kind Euan used to be.  In a style that seamlessly blends prose and spoken word poetry, Òran addresses Euan as he recalls how pressure and bullying from older boys slowly dripped poison into their friendship, as camera phones and online networks pulled kids into image-obsessed online communities. As cameras became more available and the awkward stages of self-discovery became too well documented, boys started to mock and ridicule the appearance of others, and so-called ‘friends’ would share any vulnerable photos they could get their hands on for clout. As Òran sees just how far Euan has descended into this toxic world, he realises he’ll have to journey into the depths and confront his own darker impulses in order to bring Euan back to his old self.

As Òran descends into this technological hell, the writing slowly develops into a more fantastical, mythological world. Sutcliffe’s script flows into a more lyrical style as he paints images of several circles of hell. Gordon shows off an impressive vocal versatility as he ranges from voicing Hades in a low growl, to the boisterous energy of his boyhood memories, and the tender moments as he confronts his own vulnerability and shame. Jack Nurse’s dynamic direction uses every inch of the space to build up this world, and brings the audience into the story to play a few key parts. The play is scored with electronic music by VanIves, which adds a pulsing energy to the rhythm of the script. The main set piece is a large rectangular light, which drenches the space in colour as Òran progresses on his journey. Each aspect of this production is vibrant, and surprisingly full of life for a visit to the underworld. This myth for the modern world will resonate with anyone who has known the darker side of today’s technology, but the underlying current of hope reminds us of just how powerful a true friendship can be.

Òran ran from the 11th to the 13th of November at the Pleasance Theatre in London after a sold-out run at the Edinburgh Fringe.

REVIEW: The Ungodly

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

Enter the richly detailed world of the East Anglian witch trials, as a young couple are driven to extremes by loss and fear

The Puritans, famously at the heart of many of Britain’s seventeenth-century witch trials, did not call themselves Puritans; they most commonly called themselves ‘the godly.’ They believed that only a select few would reach heaven, and that ‘the ungodly’ would suffer eternal damnation. The Ungodly, a new historical play by Joanna Carrick, follows a young couple as they are drawn into the paranoia, prejudice, and violence of the East Anglian witch trials. Based on real historical figures like the infamous ‘Witchfinder’ Matthew Hopkins, this chilling tale explores how religious fervour can grow to have devastating consequences.

The play opens on a desolate scene of grief, as Susan (Nadia Jackson) has just buried the baby her late sister left in her care. Richard (Christopher Ashman) injects some humour into the scene as he can’t help but remind Susan that he would be happy to marry her. Despite this inauspicious start, the two find their way into a tender and flirtatious relationship and, soon, an affectionate marriage. Vincent Moisy as Matthew Hopkins is the awkward third orbiting around this happy couple; a preacher’s son, Matthew is deeply and fervently pious. A Stuttering and shy teenager at first, he makes ominous comments which reveal the dogmatic misogyny and rejection of pleasure that characterised the Puritan faith. Over the next two hours, Richard and Susan slowly lose their grip on certainty and optimism as they lose multiple children in infancy, and the suspicion that there are darker forces at play looms ever larger. Matthew is drawn deeper and deeper into his search to root out sin, and eventually steps into the role he is infamous for – the Witchfinder General. Moisy brings a strong sense of physicality to the role as Matthew becomes more confident and sinister, changing his speech and posture almost entirely by the end of the show. Jackson and Ashman as Richard and Susan deliver compelling performances as a married couple navigating the depths of sadness and loss.

Brought to life by the Red Rose Chain Theatre Company, this play is rich in details which will delight the history enthusiasts in the audience. David Newborn’s production grounds the story with minimal, yet evocative props and furniture; Susan is kept busy with dusting and folding laundry in a domestic bustle. The costumes have been chosen with the same attention to detail, down to the leather ties on each shoe. Matt Penson’s original music adds a slightly cinematic tone to the atmosphere, but the shining musical moment came when Richard sings a few phrases of a hymn as he searches for comfort in a moment of despair. Historic music can feel stiff or inaccessible, and moments like this help audiences imagine how these songs would permeate people’s lives just as music does today.

Carrick’s intensive research process has resulted in a very grounded, tangible, and thoughtful work. With the plotline centering on Richard and Susan’s transformation from grounded, happy newlyweds to a grief-stricken, revenge-bent pair, the focus lies on the witch trials’ accusers rather than the accused. The production is not lacking in drama; set in the round, the dynamic staging makes the most of the intimate space. David Newborn’s lighting adds some truly striking moments as Richard and Susan’s faces are thrown into sharp relief. Carrick asks what it takes for rational, intelligent people to become radicalised into cult-like mindsets, in ways considered extreme even by other devoutly religious people at the time. This story does not delve into the spectacles of the trials or executions, and leaves out many of Matthew Hopkins’s more gruesome methods of extracting confessions from the accused. This is, instead, a character study of two people forced to alter their worldview by unexplainable tragedy and the desperate desire for answers.

The Ungodly is running at Southwark Playhouse in Borough until November 16th, and will transfer to New York in 2025.

REVIEW: Ania Magliano

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

With creativity and charming self-deprecation, Ania Magliano’s Forgive Me, Father tackles questions like how to survive moving in with a partner.

With Forgive Me, Father, comedian Ania Magliano brings a fresh, cheeky energy to classic topics like the growing pains of relationships. Over a well-paced hour of long-form comedy, she weaves in topics like her complex relationship with her contraceptive coil, her parents’ divorce, social media ‘stalking,’ and her struggle to settle into cohabitation with her first live-in boyfriend. These explorations are studded with more surreal flights of fancy, as she brainstorms unusual ways to eliminate the burden of flossing and identifies her dream job in Tudor England. Ironic quips, self-deprecating stories, and light-hearted jokes are all presented with a confident, mischievous smile.

The central story of the show is Magliano’s adjustment to living with her boyfriend; he dated his last girlfriend for an intimidating eight years, while Magliano has moved through a series of short-term relationships. As they navigate life in the same home, she weighs the pros of having access to his printer against the deep defensiveness she feels at any perceived slight. She manages to convince herself that her contraceptive coil is causing this belligerence, and decides to have it removed. This coil is rapidly established as the antagonist of the story, and much of the next hour is devoted to her quest to solve her relationship problems by ridding herself of this rage-inducing contraption, all the while admitting that this blame is not based in any science other than self-assurance. While medical procedures can be an awkward subject to broach onstage, Magliano finds humour in the deep indignities of gynaecological care: imagining, for example, which outfits still work well with the bottom half completely removed. As she explores these core themes, she makes brief forays into topics like her relationship with her father, her love of gender-neutral clothing, and her fraught experience with buying an adult toy online. Each detour is carefully tied back into the narrative, and several well-timed callbacks to previous jokes give the show a truly cohesive feel; Magliano manages to deliver an intricately-constructed set while still evoking the feeling of a long phone call with a slightly chaotic friend.

With a twinkle in her eye, Magliano attempts to justify her most erratic and neurotic habits in ways which will feel familiar to most audiences. She walks the line between indulging her slightly delusional tendencies and laughing at herself along the way. After several successful solo shows at the Edinburgh Fringe and the Soho Theatre, Ania Magliano is a rising star with great promise for even more laughs to come.

Forgive Me, Father is running at the Soho Theatre Downstairs until 26 October.

Photography by Roy Riley 07816547063

REVIEW: Filibuster

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

A whimsical yet moving portrait of a life away from home.

In the bustling auditorium of Jacksons Lane theatre in Highgate, amidst the gentle hubbub of the waiting audience, Tom Gaskin stepped casually to the front of the seats and began to very slowly ‘post’ a letter through a mail slot held up by a willing audience member. The audience quietened as if a switch had flipped; even before he took the stage, Gaskin had captured the attention of the room. In Filibuster, a new work by the circus company Kook Ensemble, Gaskin stars as Bertie, who flees to an isolated cottage to escape a rapidly-encroaching war.

The set seems simple as the show begins, with white fabric thrown over a few indistinct shapes, and a scattered paper design marking a plain black background. However, it quickly becomes clear that there is more than meets the eye here, as the set itself reveals an impressive array of secrets. The bulk of the action takes place in Bertie’s cottage, which is filled with suitcases; these are a convenient way to store the show’s various props, but they also paint a picture of a displaced life lived out of bags and cases. As well-off as Bertie seems in his cottage hideaway, he is still fleeing a war which has driven him away from his home and into this retreat. Gaskin’s performance is underscored by the show’s playful and absorbing sound design. As the show begins, insistent strings are overlaid with the sounds of trains, boats, and cars to bring Bertie on his long journey to the cottage. As he experiences the highs and lows of isolation, from dancing exuberantly as he cleans the cottage to dejectedly listening to the ticking clock, the music helps change the tone on a dime.

As Bertie tries to settle into this new and uncertain home, he toys with the idea of dating, and comes to terms with a (creatively puppeted) butler who can be, in Bertie’s opinion, overly familiar. Several of these scenes bring audience members onstage to fill in for various supporting characters, and these interactions lead to some of the show’s most delightfully playful moments. Gaskin also shows off some truly impressive juggling skills in the show’s lighter scenes, engaging the audience with an almost cabaret-like flair. The heart of the piece, however, lies in Gaskin’s full physical commitment to storytelling. This show was designed as an homage to iconic silent movie stars such as Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, and Gaskin brings a fresh and modern energy to this style while still evoking the classic aesthetic of the twenties. He embodies each emotion right to the tips of his fingers and toes, creating visually captivating physical theatre. As foolish and flawed as Bertie can be, audiences will still be rooting for him as they’re swept up in this whimsical adventure.

Filibuster’s current UK tour will end with a performance in Sheffield on 9 November.

REVIEW: The Night Overtook Us

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Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A lively, evocative exploration of winter in the Scottish Highlands, with a stunning new piece from composer Donald Grant.”

This weekend saw composer and violinist Donald Grant premiere a new work in London: Thuit an Oidhche Oirnn (The Night Overtook Us). The piece was performed by Grant and his band with the local Aurora Orchestra as part of a concert exploring the harshness and beauty of winter in the Scottish Highlands. With a varied yet cohesive programme, the evening was an exciting blend of traditional melodies with new writing and creative new arrangements.

The concert opened with a traditional tune from Grant’s hometown of Roybridge – “A Mhairead Óg,” and then under soft washes of light, the rest of the ensemble entered with modern composer David Fennessy’s Hirta Rounds. Inspired by Hirta, the largest of the islands in St. Kilda, this evocative and haunting piece had light, dancing notes fluttering over sustained, droning chords. The strings conversed in a sort of harmonic chaos reminiscent of sounds echoing down a glen, a chorus of birdsong, or rain pattering into a lake.

The next pieces saw the tempo pick up, as the band took centre stage for Calum Stewart’s Am Monadh Ruadh, evoking the mountains known as the Cairngorms today, and Donald Grant’s own piece To the West, inspired by his childhood camping holidays on the coastlines overlooking the Inner Hebrides. Grant’s arrangement of Am Monadh Ruadh was beautifully balanced, drawing on the combined power of the band and ensemble while still allowing each instrument their moments to shine. With swelling strings and some slightly jazzier stylings on the piano, this tune had the audience tapping their toes from the start, and To the West kept the energy up with a bluesy, bluegrass-esque jig, which drew out the rhythmic and tonal elements of traditional Scottish tunes which have shaped these more modern genres.

Next, Scottish folk singer Mischa MacPherson led the ensemble in “An Robh thu sa Bheinn,” a wool-waulking song; these work songs are usually led by the eldest woman in the group as a call-and-response chant to keep the group working the wool in time. Grant’s arrangement added a driving beat to the melody, resulting in a rock-and-roll energy enhanced by dynamic red lighting onstage. MacPherson then lent her talents to “Ailean Dubh,” a love song about an admittedly problematic raider who has captured a woman’s heart. With simpler piano and sustained strings, Grant’s setting allowed MacPherson’s dynamic and graceful vocals to shine. For Ailie Robertson’s string trio, The Black Pearl, some of the other musicians sat or stood around the back of the stage, lending an easy, communal atmosphere to this jazzy piece which added a more driving, suspenseful tone to the programme. La Bottine Souriante’s Prelude Valse was a catchy, swinging waltz, and a nod to the Scottish roots of traditional Québécois music.

Donald Grant’s new composition, Thuit an Oidhche Oirnn (The Night Overtook Us), was a true highlight of the evening. Grant drew some inspiration from winter’s elemental brutality, such as one 19th-century storm in Roybridge described by local John MacPhee, which hit like a flash in the middle of the day and wreaked havoc on the community. Alongside this intensity, Grant also wished to capture the culture of communities working together to bring light, warmth, and music into the longest nights, and chose to honour the siskin (a.k.a. pìobaire, or ‘piper’) as a symbol of this hope, as this bright yellow bird stays each winter in Scotland and can serve as a reminder of more colourful times to come. With delicate trills on the violin over a steady beat from the double bass, the piece eased into a waltz, with soaring strings and sunny melodies. A more haunting, traditional tune shifted the energy of the piece, as the rhythmic guitar started to conjure images of a rising storm, and Grant was able to show off some impressively quick fingers and dynamic phrasing on the violin as the piece built to an energetic finish with resounding applause.

MacPherson returned for another love song with “Dohmnull Nan Domhnull,” bringing a delicate warmth and tenderness to the melody, and the evening was brought to a jolly close with Grant’s The Way Home. This concert was a varied yet cohesive modern folk programme, and a brilliant exploration of the joy to be found in blending historic and modern tunes, tones, and stylings.

Thuit an Oidhche Oirnn (The Night Overtook Us) was performed on September 28th at Kings Place.

REVIEW: The Devil in the Belfry

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Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Darkly whimsical and surprisingly political, this one-man adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s tale is a perfectly spooky way to spend an autumn evening.

Written and performed by Dave Robb, The Devil in the Belfry is a one-man adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s darkly whimsical short story from 1839. With direction from Flavia D’Avila, this captivating performance will leave audiences on the edge of their seats as earnest narrator Handel Fledermaus relates the thrilling tale of an orderly village descending into chaos.

Dave Robb is the perfect performer to bring this story to life, as he weaves moments of morbid humour into a quirky yet chillingly suspenseful narrative. A confident, masterful storyteller, Robb whisks audiences away to the beautiful, isolated valley of ‘Vondorvotteimittiss’ – Poe’s cheekily named hamlet with a deep love for order and rigorous timekeeping. This ostensible peace is soon to be shattered, however, as audiences are warned at the start about the ‘catastrophe’ which has befallen the unsuspecting villagers upon the arrival of the titular devil. In one short hour, this catastrophe unfolds in a well-paced, enthralling monologue.

With sharp, clear changes in his expression and posture, Robb gradually expands the cast of characters as he brings this village to life. Throughout the show, simple yet effective lighting changes add drama to the shifting moods of the piece, and Robb and D’Avila’s deeply creative use of props create dynamic and evocative impressions of the village as a simple coat rack and cane transform into telescopes and towers. Robb’s energy and focus bring audiences immediately into the world of the narrator, Handel Fledermaus, and at certain points the audience is even asked to step into various roles within the tale. While Poe’s original story is written as a travelogue, the choice to create Handel as a central character and narrator adds urgency and intensity to this adaptation.

Fans of Poe’s work may notice a few references to his other short stories, and will surely appreciate the chance to delve into one of Poe’s lesser-known, more humorous works. This story is also a timely one, as Poe explores themes of xenophobia and the fear of change which are pressingly relevant to today’s society. Poe’s story has a tongue-in-cheek satirical tone, poking fun at the isolated and prejudiced villagers, and Robb and D’Avila’s adaptation perfectly captures both the wittiness and the eerie rural horror of the original tale, leaving audiences wondering who the true villain of the piece is.

The Devil in the Belfry is running from September 24th to 28th at the Barons Court Theatre at 7:30 PM.

REVIEW: The Book of Margery Kempe

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Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

 This playful retelling of a mediaeval autobiography is a whirlwind tour through the life of a woman both tormented and thrilled by religious visions

The Book of Margery Kempe, by writer and director Natalie Lines, takes a fresh look at a mediaeval work by the same name, which some believe to be the first known autobiography in the English language. The real Margery Kempe, according to the book she dictated in the early 1400’s, spent her life experiencing the agony and ecstasy of all-consuming religious visions. In this new student-led dramatisation of Margery’s tale, Lines explores what drives a person to document their life, as Margery seeks to defend herself against accusations of heresy and prove that she does indeed have a personal relationship with Jesus.

An overworked wife with fourteen children, Margery is not whom the church would expect to see visions of Jesus, but she advocates fiercely for herself and her right to connect with a divine presence. In some ways, she was simply born a few centuries too early for the Protestant Reformation, as many Protestant sects believe that any individual may have a close relationship with God. However, in the late Middle Ages, when Margery confesses that her visions of Jesus have taken an erotic turn, she turns the town of King’s Lynn (called Bishop’s Lynn at the time) on its head.

Across the span of one swift hour, Lines’s snappy writing whisks audiences on a journey through years of Margery’s life, and follows her on one of her many pilgrimages. This work draws heavily on the imagery of Margery’s mystic experiences, with vivid hallucinations of animal imagery, overwhelming experiences of Jesus’s suffering, and romantic connections with Jesus himself. Much like Carlo Ginsburg’s The Cheese and the Worms, the source material for this play is a deep dive into the worldview of an allegedly heretical mediaeval Christian, but this production’s irreverent humour keeps it from feeling too scholarly. Akshit Ahuja plays an entertainingly suave Jesus, and Artemis Loynes and Theo Parkin provide some comedic moments as Margery’s sex-starved husband and an ornery pub owner.

The central challenge of this story, however, lies in how to evoke the intensity of Margery’s visions – this production effectively evokes the horror inherent in the violent religious imagery (like Jesus’s crucifixion) that most people have become inured to. Amenie Groves as Margery gives a strong performance which adds a great deal of pathos and humour to the show; she handles the transitions between mystical fervour and witty narration with ease, and her intense gaze holds audiences captive. Lines’s direction sees the cast use the uniquely-shaped stage to its best advantage, drawing the audiences in as witnesses to Margery’s testimony. Stan Hunt’s sound design provides jaunty tunes to accompany Margery’s journeys, and haunting soundscapes to add an oppressive atmosphere to her trances.

Overall, this student production is an engaging and quirky hour, with a good amount of heart and humour. The show dives into the mixed blessings of being chosen for a higher purpose, explores how mysticism allowed mediaeval women to circumvent the deeply patriarchal church to find their own callings, and leaves audiences eager to learn more about this fascinating mediaeval figure.

REVIEW: Cianalas

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Rating: 5 out of 5.

This gripping tale of one community’s resistance to the Highland Clearances is harrowing and life-affirming in equal parts.

Cianalas, an original play by writer and actor Niamh O’Donnell, brings audiences on a gripping ride as a village in the Scottish Highlands faces an existential threat: the Highland Clearances. During the 1700’s and 1800’s, communities in the Scottish Highlands faced increasing pressures to relocate (allegedly so that landlords could use the land for more profitable sheep farming), eventually culminating in thousands of forced evictions by the British Army. Many narratives of this violent era have implied that Highland communities accepted these evictions passively, but recent studies have begun to explore evidence that does tell stories of resistance and protests. Inspired by real instances from the Clearances, O’Donnell skillfully weaves together two parallel stories: one of a close-knit village community as they start to realise the impending threat to their home, and one of two soldiers who represent this rapidly approaching violence.

The show’s early scenes paint a relatively blissful picture of the loving relationships between the women in the village: the younger girls – optimistic Ùna (played by writer Niamh O’Donnell), wry Ciorstaidh (Clara Doherty), and innocent Seònaid (Katie Rough) – and the sage grandmother Magaidh (Elizabeth McNally). The dashing Lachlann (Peter Jeffries) stumbles over his words as he and Ùna exchange glances, and the two are subject to much teasing. But Ailig (Eoin Quinlan) brings news that some families have been offered a fee to move off the laird’s lands, and this spark of danger grows steadily over the next two years until the show’s riveting climax. Within the village, the central tension lies with Seumas (Mark Moore), Ùna’s overprotective father, as he refuses to believe that these ‘rumours’ are anything more than idle gossip. Outside the village, two British Army soldiers – lone wolf Lowlander Walter (Joshua Urquhart) and the family-minded Englishman George (Ned Cooper) – grapple with their own demons and their wildly clashing personalities. With a resoundingly strong ensemble performance, this piece will leave audiences deeply invested in each and every character’s journey.

Produced by Lauren Lewis, Rachel McKay, and Niamh Deasy, and directed by Anna Millington, this evocative production comes to life against a background of drying laundry and herbs hanging behind a cosy domestic table setting. Ellie Rowlinson’s creative lighting design uses shifts in colour and focus to separate different scenes without changing the set. The real standout of this production design is the music: with music direction by Imi Waters, the live traditional soundtrack adds melancholy strings and pulse-quickening drums to emotional scenes and lively ceilidhs. Each time rumours of families leaving the area are mentioned, gentle strains of accordion add an undercurrent of changing tides to the moment.

O’Donnell wrote this piece to address the relative absence of stories on stage about the Highland Clearances, and the underrepresentation of Gaelic both in the arts and in Scotland today. To that end, the show weaves together English, Scots, and Gaelic (with translation and guidance from Uilleam MacCormaig). Throughout the play, characters delve into questions of whether it’s better to stay in a threatened home or give up one’s way of life. The show’s name, ‘cianalas,’ is a Gaelic word referring to a profound connection to ‘the place where your roots lie.’ The word doesn’t carry strong associations of sadness or loss, however, and while this play is a wrenching look at the physical and cultural violence of the Clearances, it ends on a note of hope for the next generation. Cianalas celebrates the power of stories, poems, and songs to bring people together, to soften hard hearts, and to carry a sense of belonging across mountains and oceans.

Cianalas ran from 30-31 July at the King’s Head Theatre in Islington as part of the Camden Fringe.

REVIEW: Mrs. Warren’s Profession

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Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An enjoyable production of a classic, with chic 1930’s costumes and lots of laughs alongside Shaw’s deeper moral questions.

Content Notes: This play includes discussions of sex work, and prop firearms onstage.

George Bernard Shaw’s 1893 play Mrs. Warren’s Profession was so incendiary that the cast of the first public performance in 1905 was arrested midway through the show. The Shaw-focused company Shaw2020 performs this controversial exploration of ethics and blame, as the independent but privileged Vivie Warren is forced to question everything she knows when her mysterious mother, Mrs. Kitty Warren, comes to visit. Over the course of the play, Shaw asks whether choices made in desperation can be forgiven, and whether the end always justifies the means.

For this production, director and actor Jonas Cemm brings the story forward a few decades to land in the 1930’s. This shift adds a bit more modern glamour to the costumes, although much of the cast seemed to give relatively timeless performances which wouldn’t have been out of place in the original setting. The change does free Vivie even more from turn-of-the-century social norms, as Bethany Blake brings a bold, brash energy to her performance which is well-suited to the updated era, but Vivie is already a strikingly modern character even by Edwardian standards. Laura Fitzpatrick plays Kitty Warren with a saccharine air of feigned innocence, resulting in a slightly less frightening character than in other stagings. Regardless, Fitzpatrick has a very compelling stage presence, and her Mrs. Warren effortlessly commands any room she enters. Joe Sargent plays Frank Gardner, Vivie’s paramour, and brings a cheeky comic energy to the first half of the show, and a debonair thoughtfulness to the later acts as Frank is forced to confront more serious topics. The show is rounded out by director Jonas Cemm, who is suitably unctuous as the corrupt Sir George Crofts, Karl Moffatt, who is endearing as the artistically-minded Mr. Praed, and Anthony Wise, who is charming as the often-bewildered Reverend Gardner. Wise and Sargent bring an especially jolly dynamic to the production as their scenes pit Frank’s teasing against his father’s efforts to corral him.

Much of the technical side of the production was well-suited to the show, with toe-tapping 30’s tunes, and some delightful scene change antics. There were brief moments in which the 30’s hats cast several actors’ faces into shadow, however, and some scenes in which characters were seated with their backs to the audience, which somewhat reduced the impact of the staging.

Overall, this production seems to portray Mrs. Warren as a slightly more sympathetic character than some others do. The cuts made to certain lines and stage directions also shifted some of the focus away from Vivie’s relationship with Frank and her own independence (particularly in the ending scene), leaving a much greater emphasis on her relationship with her mother. Nevertheless, this cast successfully navigates the shifts between the play’s witty humour and its darker ethical questions, resulting in a thoroughly enjoyable show.

Mrs. Warren’s Profession is running from 16-20 July at the Jack Studio Theatre in Brockley, and will run at several other theatres in and around London in July and August, including Shaw’s Corner in Welwyn.

REVIEW: Jewels

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Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A playful and thought-provoking look at a medieval woman’s experience of religion and sexuality, with a jolly soundtrack of ‘bardcore’ tunes to distract from the looming threat of the 1348 Black Death.

Content Note: This play includes strong language, fake blood, and scenes of sexual assault and miscarriage. Some spoilers below.

In Jewels, writer and performer Tanwen Stokes brings a fresh, fun, and lovingly irreverent story of mediaeval womanhood onto the stage. This one-woman show weaves together figures and themes from 14th-century English history to produce ‘Jewels,’ a sex worker living through the Black Death in 1348. Inspired by figures like Julian of Norwich, who wrote the earliest known book by a woman in English, we see Jewels attempt to escape the plague by securing a position as an anchorite nun–‘anchoresses’ like Julian of Norwich devoted their lives to Christ in complete and permanent isolation.

This one-act show traces the highs and lows of Jewels’s first days of isolation in her cell, as her only connection to the outside world is the daily visit of the handmaiden assigned to bring her sacramental wine and sewing projects–Sister Agnes. As her caretaker has been sworn to silence (to protect her from Jewels’s “forked tongue”), Agnes only communicates through knocking, the occasional hummed melody, and a daily note slipped into Jewels’s basket. This focus on a few crucial days adds a rhythm to the narrative that drives the story forward with the daily cycle of deliveries and church bells, and the conversational structure between Jewels and the semi-silent Agnes adds a lot of dimension to the piece. Agnes also relays periodic complaints from people visiting the surrounding cemetery, who are often offended by Jewels’s singing and rather loud blasphemy–this helps bring the world around her small cell to life. All the while, Jewels is awaiting rescue from a man whom she–somewhat accidentally–allowed herself to truly fall for.

Stokes also looks closely at the erotic nature of many mediaeval women’s relationship with Jesus, particularly as nuns were considered to be married to Christ. In a world where women were vilified as temptresses for expressing any sexual desire and sex workers were blamed for spreading both sin and disease (and indeed, for bringing the plague as a punishment for their sins), Jewels challenges the idea that God wanted humans to live a life of self-denial in order to reach some promised heavenly reward. If this is true, she asks, why does it feel so good to dance and sing and kiss each other? She quotes some of the most erotic passages in the Bible to Agnes, and wonders why she’s been locked in a room with a hunky, nearly-nude Jesus on a crucifix as her only companion. She also points out the deep hypocrisy (which was actually perpetuated for centuries before and after this play’s setting) of the Bishop of Winchester condemning sex workers while profiting off their taxes in the brothels that he ran and even visiting them himself.

James MacManus’s music thrums along throughout the show, combining original compositions with covers of traditional English tunes and a fun infusion of ‘bardcore’ hits like “Nuns Just Wanna Have Fun.” Stokes brings an energetic physicality to the role that melds well with direction and choreography from Miriam Botzenhardt, whether she’s testing out improbable prayer positions, bopping around her cell, or letting loose in a joyfully uninhibited dance at Bartholomew Fair. With excellent comic timing, Stokes is likeable and engaging from the moment she opens her eyes to look boldly around her new home.

The show’s lighter moments are balanced out by vivid and visceral explorations of mediaeval theology, sexuality, and what it means to embrace life in the midst of an unthinkable epidemic. With a background in medieval literature, Stokes has written a show which is strongly rooted in historical context, while bringing a healthy dose of playfulness to the sources; this is a promising playwriting debut. While those without this background may not recognise every term or reference, many of the questions Jewels asks are just as relevant today as they were nearly 700 years ago, and in 2024 it is especially poignant to look at the toll that isolation takes, even when it’s a necessary protective measure. Jewels grabs life in both hands with every chance she gets, and reminds us that the desire for connection, both physical and emotional, is incredibly human.

Jewels has run from July 16-17 at the Canal Cafe Theatre in Little Venice, and will run August 8-11 and 13-14 at the Edinburgh Fringe.