Author: Lucy C

REVIEW: RAMBERT X (LA)HORDE

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

“Bring Your Own at The Lowry is a high-energy dance show full of athleticism, chaos, and inventive group choreography.”

I went to see Rambert’s Bring Your Own at The Lowry this week and came away really impressed with the energy and athleticism of the dancers. The show was split into three pieces, each with its own feel, and what stood out most was how well the group worked together. The timing was spot on, and they made great use of the whole stage so every section felt alive.

The first piece, Hop(e)storm, started with a bell ringing and a rumbling backdrop. It felt like a clash between the dancers, with the women launching themselves across the stage and the men having to catch them. At first it seemed combative, but it shifted into a kind of truce, where they danced together instead of against each other. I liked how it moved from a retro Lindy Hop style into something closer to rave culture. It gave the piece a sense of progression, like moving through different eras of dance in one number. The group worked as one, filling the stage and keeping the energy up throughout.

The second piece, Weather Is Sweet, was very different. It leaned into the LA club scene and was more provocative. The choreography was bold, playful, and at times a bit in-your-face, but the overly explicit nature of the dance did accidently turn it humorous. That didn’t take away from how the dancers pushed the limits of what their bodies could do and how far they could go with certain movements. Even though parts were sexual, it felt more like a look at how people move in club environments, how physical it gets and how boundaries are tested. It wasn’t my favourite of the three, but it was creative, and the timing between the dancers was flawless.

The final piece, Room With A View, really stuck with me. It started slow, with the group moving together in a controlled, almost hypnotic way, before one dancer broke away and shifted the energy. From there, it built into organised chaos, with human pyramids, dancers being thrown around, and bursts of energy that felt wild but precise. The group often split across the stage, which made it dynamic and full of life, with lots happening at once. At times it was almost hard to take it all in, but that added to the sense of chaos and rebellion. I loved how it swung from everyone moving together to complete disorder, with individuals breaking out and even taunting the audience. It was funny in places, but also powerful, the kind of performance that leaves you buzzing afterwards.

What really stood out across the night was the stamina of the dancers. The choreography asked a lot from them with fast changes in pace, big lifts, and sudden bursts of energy, but they never missed a beat. The athleticism was impressive, and the trust they had in each other made even the riskiest moves look confident. I also liked how much of the stage they used. Nothing was wasted, and wherever you looked there was always something happening.

Overall, Bring Your Own was a strong and varied evening of dance. Each piece had a different atmosphere, from the retro-rave vibe of the first, to the bold humour of the second, and then the chaotic energy of the third. For me, the closing number was the highlight, but the contrast between all three worked really well.

I wouldn’t say every section is for everyone, but that’s what made it interesting. You got to see different sides of what Rambert can do. The energy, precision, and athleticism of the dancers carried through the night, making the whole performance worth watching

REVIEW: Can’t Complain

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A quietly moving and thoughtful audiodrama that finds beauty in everyday life while exploring grief, love, and growing up.“

I went to the Manchester showing of Can’t Complain at 53two and found it quietly captivating. It’s billed as a “pop audiodrama,” and the evening felt like a chance to experience the music in a slightly theatrical way. It’s not a full-blown stage production yet, but the combination of music, visuals, and atmosphere made it feel more alive than just a listening session.

The story follows Tom and Joanna, two teenagers on the brink of adulthood, whose lives are thrown off course after Joanna’s father dies by suicide. Alongside Joanna’s mum, Helen, they try to carry on while processing grief, navigating new emotions, and figuring out how to be there for each other. The material is obviously heavy, but the show handles it with honesty and warmth. There’s quiet humour in the dialogue and lyrics that makes the characters feel real and relatable even in their most painful moments.

The stage setup at 53two was simple but effective. A table with a few plates, one left untouched, hinted at everyday life interrupted. Behind it, a large screen showed visuals that paired with the music, created by Grace Antoinette Easton. Ordinary scenes like a street, a kitchen, or a looping train were made strangely beautiful through framing and movement, giving the evening a thoughtful, reflective feel. The images didn’t overpower the music; they complemented it and let you focus on the emotional journey of the characters.

The songs themselves are the heart of the show. Sam Easton’s music mixes electronic pop with traditional theatre-style storytelling. The sound is polished and modern, and there are short lines of dialogue that help the story along. Tracks like Changing of the Guard capture the excitement of new love, while Suffer in Silence sticks in your mind long after it ends. Helen’s solo, Best Laid Plans, is quietly powerful, full of emotion but still with a rhythm that keeps it moving.

While the music is strong throughout, the evening also leaves space to just sit with the emotions. The repetition of certain melodies and the slower pace meant you could notice the little details and feel the tension between grief and everyday life. There’s a calmness to the way it flows, even during the heavier moments, which gives it a really gentle tone. It’s not about big spectacle or flashy numbers, it’s about the characters and the story.

What stood out most was how the show finds meaning in ordinary life. The heartbreak is real, but it’s mixed with everyday routines the cooking, walking down streets, looking out of windows. That mix of the mundane with the emotional makes it feel really human. Even small moments, like a glance between Joanna and Tom or a half eaten meal, carry weight.

It’s obvious a lot of thought has gone into this project. The music, visuals, and simple staging all work together to create something cohesive and original. There’s care in how the story is told and how grief, love, and growing up are explored. Even though it’s based on a concept album, it never feels like you’re just listening in, you feel like you’re part of the story.

Overall, the Manchester showing of Can’t Complain was an impressive evening. It’s intimate and reflective, finding beauty in everyday life while handling heavy themes sensitively. The music is strong, the story feels real, and the visuals add subtle depth without taking over. It’s a thoughtful piece that stays with you long after it finishes, and it’s clear there’s something special here worth following.

Follow @cantcomplainmusical for future updates.

REVIEW: The Diana Mixtape

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Rating: 5 out of 5.

A fun, lighthearted mix of theatre and pop hits, The Diana Mixtape is a hilarious, feel-good night out full of camp, energy, and singalong moments

The Diana Mixtape at The Lowry is such a laugh. From the start, it’s clear the show isn’t taking itself too seriously, which makes it easy to just enjoy. The setup is funny and clever part theatre, part concert and the cast absolutely lean into that vibe.

The show stars Courtney Act, Divina De Campo, Rosé, Kitty Scott-Claus and Priyanka, and yes, they’re all playing Diana. At first that sounds a bit odd, but it works. It’s camp, it’s silly, but it’s done with so much energy that you just go with it. There’s no trying to be a serious biopic, which is nice. It’s more a celebration of Diana through this over-the-top, pop-heavy lens.

The music is a big part of the fun. Loads of well-known songs are crammed in, from Britney to Gaga, Dua Lipa to Kylie, all sung live. Honestly, it’s a bit of a banger-fest, but in the best way. The queens hit almost every note, their vocals are strong, and the choreography is sharp without being too showy. 

Keala Settle as Queen Elizabeth and Noel Sullivan as King Charles add extra laughs, especially when they play up the royal absurdity. Lucinda Lawrence as Queen Camilla is great too, and the ensemble really tie everything together with energy and cheeky timing. You can tell the cast are having a ball, which makes it easy for the audience to do the same.

What’s great is that it’s lighthearted. There’s no heavy, moralising stuff or dark undertones, just a proper feel-good show. It’s the kind of show where you leave humming along to pop songs you didn’t realise you knew the words to, laughing at the ridiculous bits, and admiring the costumes and wigs. Everything’s bright, bold and unapologetically camp.

The direction by Christopher D. Clegg keeps it moving nicely. Nothing drags, and the transitions between songs and scenes feel slick. You’re constantly entertained, whether it’s from the pop hits, the funny royal moments, or just the overall spectacle. The set is simple but effective, letting the cast do all the heavy lifting with their personalities and energy.

If you’re after something dramatic or deeply emotional, this isn’t it. But if you want a night out that’s funny, uplifting, and full of songs you can sing along to, this is exactly that. The mix of theatre and concert works really well, and the show genuinely feels made to make people smile.

All in all, The Diana Mixtape is a total crowd-pleaser. Funny setup, loads of well-known songs, great performances, and a genuinely fun atmosphere. Definitely one to see if you want a light, fun night out with a bit of camp and plenty of laughs.

REVIEW: A SYMPHONY OF FLESH AND BONES

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

serene, and at times tumultuous, but always emotional

This piece felt more like stepping into someone’s memories than watching a traditional performance. A Symphony of Flesh and Bones blends film and live presence in a way that’s serene, and at times tumultuous, but always emotional. Emulating how many of us feel when facing the existential questions that Flesh and Bones proposes vividly.

The story draws on Juliet Ellis’ family, particularly her dad and brother, and looks at the ways we use our bodies to tell stories about ourselves. Her dad was a world champion bodybuilder and her brother used to be a cage fighter, so there’s a strong focus on physicality and how we rely on strength as a kind of protection or identity. You see footage of them at different points in their lives – younger, stronger, full of potential, and then as they are now – and that contrast is quietly powerful.

The film plays across multiple screens, and Ellis sits in the centre of it all, responding to the footage and offering commentary as it goes. Taking full advantage of stage and intimately involving her audience. Her voice adds context and draws out the links between images. It helps anchor some of the more abstract parts. She doesn’t over explain anything, but what she does say brings a sense of intention and care to the piece.

The solo performance felt subtle but solid. She’s not acting in a dramatic way, more just holding the space and guiding you through it. It works well against the more layered and sometimes intense visuals happening around her.

I shall warn that this show is highbrow, and I can be humble enough to admit that falls outside of my wheelhouse, so unless you flirt with metaphysics from time to time you may also find yourself a little lost on the narrative. But even when I didn’t fully connect with what was happening, I still found it engaging. You don’t have to understand every philosophical question to feel the weight of it. The themes around ageing, identity and loss of control are things we all come up against at some point.

Visually it’s beautiful. Everything feels intentional and carefully put together, even if the pace is slow. It gives you space to reflect rather than pulling you along with a clear story. In otherwords, it’s a ‘thinker’ and it gives moments of peace to ponder the big questions before launching you deeper into Juliet Ellis’ clever rhetoric.

One thing I appreciated was how personal it was without being too self indulgent. You can tell the work comes from a deep place, but it never feels like it’s trying to force an emotional response. It just presents these images and ideas and lets you take from it what you want.

I wouldn’t say it’s an easy watch. You have to be in the right mindset for it. But it’s the kind of piece that lingers afterwards. It doesn’t give you answers or tie everything up neatly, but it does make you think about how we see ourselves, especially as our bodies change and age.

Overall, I found it quite impactful, even if a bit abstract for my usual taste. Juliet Ellis did a really good job, both in holding the space live and guiding us through her world. And it changed the way I see my own body, making it a truly insightful experience.

REVIEW: Manchester Classical at Bridgewater Hall

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

A captivating night of Reich’s music, brilliantly performed by the Hallé and Jonny Greenwood.

This was a really solid night at Bridgewater Hall. I’d not seen the Hallé before, and they were brilliant. There’s something so precise about the way they play, but it still feels human and expressive. Everything felt really well balanced, and they made Reich’s music feel both accessible and properly moving.

The evening started with Clapping Music, which is just two people clapping, but it was weirdly gripping. Colin Currie and David Hext had amazing timing and focus, and even though it’s just hands, it pulls you in. It’s the kind of piece that could feel a bit like a party trick in the wrong hands, but they gave it structure and intention. Currie explained beforehand that Reich was inspired by flamenco rhythms when writing it, which added another layer to listen out for. I liked that he gave context without making it feel too formal.

Runner followed, and it was one of the standouts for me. There’s this constant sense of movement and energy in the piece, but it never becomes chaotic. All the parts—strings, winds, pianos, percussion—fit together so neatly. You can tell how much thought goes into every phrase. It had this steady pulse underneath that kept things grounded, even as the textures shifted on top. I found it really easy to get into.

Jonny Greenwood was performing with them and felt like a genuine part of the group rather than a guest musician. He didn’t try to take centre stage, which I appreciated. He was subtle and respectful in the way he played, but you could also tell how much the music means to him. At one point he joked about the “shame” of playing a five-string bass, but honestly, the sound it added was gorgeous—deep and warm, like a steady heartbeat underneath everything.

The piece he played that on was Pulse, which had a more emotional tone than the others. Greenwood had said it’s full of joy, tension and sadness, and it really did hold all of that. It had these gentle melodies that loop and change, and it felt both calming and quietly emotional. The ensemble played it with a kind of softness that made it feel quite intimate.

The final piece was Variations for Vibes, Piano and Strings, and it felt like a perfect way to end. There was a lightness and energy to it that lifted the whole room. The strings were especially lovely in this one, really responsive to Currie’s direction. It was rhythmically complex in places but never felt heavy or academic. Just very alive.

The bond between Greenwood and Reich’s work was clear too. Greenwood’s approach felt thoughtful and genuine, not just admiration from a distance but a real understanding of how the music works. It’s easy to see how Reich’s style has fed into some of his work with Radiohead, but here it was all about fitting in, not standing out.

The whole evening had a quiet confidence to it. Nothing flashy or overstated, just really high-quality playing and clever programming. It made me want to hear more from both the Hallé and from Reich’s catalogue. A proper rewarding evening, and if this is the standard for the rest of the Manchester Classical weekend, it’s well worth going along.

REVIEW: Silver Chamber at The Yard Manchester

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Rating: 4 out of 5.

A well-balanced night of heavy music and classical textures, with thoughtful arrangements and a strong mix of bands

This was a really well-put-together night that brought a mix of genres together without it feeling disjointed. The flow between acts made sense, and the overall vibe had a proper arc to it rather than just being a mix for the sake of it.

The night opened with the Voluta Quartet, who played a short classical set. It was a nice contrast to what followed, and gave a bit of breathing space at the start. The only issue was the crowd – people were already chatting, and it was hard to hear the more delicate parts. A bit of extra volume would’ve helped, as the playing itself was lovely.

Fear Inoculatum, the Tool tribute band, followed and brought a solid shift in energy. They were tight and well-paced, and the sound had that layered, hypnotic feel that worked well in the space. It felt like a good stepping stone between the classical opener and the heavier sets to come.

Silver Chamber’s first set was where the concept properly came through. The orchestral parts added depth and drama to the heavier elements without overshadowing them. It wasn’t just strings tacked on for show – the arrangements felt thoughtful and brought a bit of atmosphere to the whole thing. Some of the quieter sections could’ve done with a boost, but overall it came across really well.

Syntara came next, with a set drawn from their latest release, Forever Gone. They had a great presence on stage and the balance between melody and heaviness worked. The strings supported the more emotional moments without taking anything away from the band’s sound. You could see the crowd properly getting into it.

Divinitas followed and brought things up a gear. More technical and fast-paced, their set was confident and tight throughout. The orchestral side was used more sparingly here, but it added a nice touch when it did come through – not too much, just enough to lift things when needed.

To close, Silver Chamber came back on for a final set. This part pulled everything together and felt like a proper finale. The collaboration between the bands and orchestra actually worked, and didn’t feel like an afterthought. Everyone looked like they were having a good time, and it landed well as a closer.

Overall, it was a strong night. The mix of acts kept things interesting without feeling jarring, and the classical elements were used in a way that added to the music rather than distracting from it. Would definitely go again – though next time it’d be good to have the strings turned up just a touch.

REVIEW: Sand

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Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

A visually creative and touching show with some lovely moments, though its loose structure means the emotional impact doesn’t always fully land

I wanted to like Sand more than I did. The concept is a strong one—a couple dealing with the slow, painful reality of dementia—and there are definitely moments that land emotionally. But as a whole, it didn’t quite come together for me.

The story follows Dylan and Heather, a long-term couple trying to hold on to each other as Dylan’s memory and sense of self begin to deteriorate. It’s a powerful subject, and there’s something original in the way Kook Ensemble choose to explore it—through circus, movement, and juggling instead of dialogue or more traditional storytelling. At times, this approach is really effective. There’s a tenderness in how the couple pass objects between them, or echo each other’s movements, that says a lot without needing words.

But where the show shines visually, the emotional throughline sometimes gets lost. The storyline felt a bit loose and hard to follow in places—I found myself wondering what was going on or what we were meant to take from certain scenes. Some of the circus sequences, while impressive, went on a bit too long and seemed to pull focus from the actual heart of the story. I think I was waiting for something to properly hit, and it never quite did.

That’s not to say there weren’t standout moments. The sand metaphor is used nicely throughout—Dylan pouring sand instead of water, trying to juggle with sand-filled balls that fall apart in his hands—it’s a clear image of how memory slips away. There’s also a scene where audience members are asked to blow feathers into the air, which sounds a bit odd on paper but ended up being quite moving. It captured the feeling of trying to keep something delicate from falling apart, which mirrors Heather’s struggle.

The performers are strong, especially Dilly Taylor as Heather. She gives a lot emotionally and physically—you can see the toll it’s taking on her as things progress. Her dancing shifts from soft and flowing to tired and robotic, which is a smart way to show burnout and loss. Myles MacDonald as Dylan captures the confusion and frustration of someone trying to keep up but slowly getting left behind. There’s a sad moment where he watches from the side, no longer part of the group, which says more than any dialogue could.

But for me, the balance wasn’t quite right. The acrobatics and physical theatre often felt like the main event, with the emotional weight of the story added in around the edges. It’s clear a lot of skill and thought went into the movement, but I wanted more time spent on the relationship itself, more clarity on what was happening emotionally. Sometimes it felt like style over substance.

The use of two versions of the couple—young and older—was a good idea in theory, but I’m not sure it added as much as it could have. There were sweet moments, like young Dylan trying (and failing) to juggle to impress Heather, but it didn’t feel fully integrated into the main storyline. I get the sense it was meant to add warmth and backstory, but I didn’t feel that much more invested because of it.

Overall, Sand is an original and visually interesting piece, and I really like that Kook Ensemble are doing something different. It just didn’t feel fully developed to me. There are some lovely moments, but as a whole, it needed a tighter structure and more emotional depth to really land. A promising concept, but I left feeling a bit underwhelmed

REVIEW: North by NorthWest

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Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Smart, funny and full of surprises – this Hitchcock rework is a proper good night out.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect walking into North by NorthWest – I knew the name, but hadn’t seen the film, and only really knew it was a Hitchcock story. Turns out, none of that mattered. This version, directed by Emma Rice and put on by Wise Children, is full of charm, cleverness and surprise. It’s easily the most fun I’ve had at the theatre in ages.

The whole thing kicks off with a bit of a daft setup – a phone call gone wrong that drags an ordinary man into a world of spies and Cold War conspiracies. Roger Thornhill (played by Ewan Wardrop) finds himself mistaken for someone else and ends up legging it across America trying to stay alive and figure out what’s actually going on. He’s suave and silly in equal parts, and carries the story with a kind of calm chaos.

What I didn’t expect was just how funny the whole thing was. Even though the plot is full of danger and near-misses, it’s all played with a lightness that keeps it from ever feeling too heavy. That’s down to a few things, really – the movement, the soundtrack, and the sheer energy of the cast.

The 1950s soundtrack is such a good touch. It gives the whole show this breezy, vintage vibe, and some of the dancing was honestly brilliant. Not in a polished, West-End-musical kind of way, but in a proper fun, character-driven way that made the audience grin from ear to ear. The choreography had a bit of a wink to it, and the way they used suitcases for everything – cars, buses, even Mount Rushmore – was so creative. You could just tell the cast were having a laugh with it, and that makes such a difference.

Now, the narrator – or “The Professor” – was my favourite part by a mile. Katy Owen was absolutely hilarious. She somehow managed to keep us on track with the plot while also breaking the fourth wall, throwing in cheeky comments, and keeping the energy up even in the slower moments. It could’ve all felt a bit complicated or far-fetched, but she made sure we were always in on the joke. She’s got the kind of stage presence where you just know everything’s going to be alright when she’s talking.

The rest of the cast were great too – it’s only six of them, but they play loads of characters each, flipping between roles with just a tiny costume change or a new accent. It was really clever, and never felt confusing. One second someone’s a villain, the next they’re someone’s mum or a bus driver or a bellboy. It just worked.

There are loads of twists and turns – I kept thinking, “Right, now I know what’s going on,” and then something else would happen to throw it all off again. And even though it’s daft in places, you still care about the characters. You want Roger to make it out, and you’re genuinely not sure whether Eve, the mysterious woman he meets, is going to help him or betray him. That balance of comedy and tension was done really well.

It’s also just so visually fun. The set design is simple but clever – suitcases stacked into landmarks, a kind of film reel feel to some of the transitions – and it all adds to the slightly surreal, tongue-in-cheek tone. There’s one scene with an airplane that had the whole audience giggling, and another moment near the end that felt surprisingly moving, even after all the silliness.

Overall, I thought it was brilliant. It’s rare to see something that feels both high-energy and properly silly without tipping over into chaos. Emma Rice’s direction gives it loads of personality, and the cast clearly know how to deliver a laugh while still keeping the story engaging. It’s honestly one of the best things I’ve seen in a long time.

If you’re after something clever, funny and packed with surprises – this is well worth seeing.

North by NorthWest runs until 10th May at HOME. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: WAKE

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Rating: 5 out of 5.

A bold, glittery celebration of life and grief that’ll have you laughing, tearing up, and dancing in your seat

It’s not often you go to a show and end up dancing in your seat, nearly crying, and watching someone tap dance in leather — but that’s WAKE for you.

Brought over from Ireland after two sold-out runs in Dublin, WAKE is a mad, messy, joyful celebration of life, death, grief, and everything in between. It’s loud, glittery, full of heart, and really hard to describe — but I’ll give it a go.

The idea behind the show is pretty simple: it’s based on the Irish wake — the traditional gathering after a funeral — but it flips it on its head. Rather than being sombre or overly sentimental, this is a wake that celebrates transformation, change, and connection. It mixes old traditions with club culture, so you’ve got traditional Irish music and céilí dancing one minute, and aerial silks, breakdancing and big anthemic DJ sets the next. It sounds chaotic (and it is a bit), but it somehow works.

Visually it’s stunning. There’s loads going on – aerial performers spinning through the air, gorgeous lighting, someone Riverdancing in full-on clubwear, and even moments of comedy and improv that give it a proper sense of spontaneity. It never stays in one lane for long, which I liked – you never really knew what was coming next.

What really stood out to me though, was how it handled the heavier themes. Even with all the madness, it still finds space to talk about grief, love, chosen family, and identity. It’s got this strong emotional core that gives the whole thing meaning, and you can tell how much care has gone into creating something that feels genuinely inclusive and heartfelt. It’s definitely got a queer spirit running through it, and there’s a real sense of joy and freedom in how it all comes together.

There’s also moments of audience interaction — not in a cringey way, but in a way that makes you feel like you’re part of something. It doesn’t feel like performers up there and audience down here — it’s more like a shared experience, which I suppose is very in keeping with the whole “wake” theme. Community, connection, all of that.

The cast were honestly brilliant. Such a mix of skills — dancers, musicians, poets, acrobats — all clearly giving it their all, and the energy didn’t dip once. The live music was gorgeous too, from the more stripped-back folk moments to the full-on ravey bits that had the whole theatre buzzing. I’ve genuinely not seen a show quite like it.

If I’m being picky, the first few minutes really caught me off guard — not because they were over the top, but because they were unexpectedly sombre. It was actually the saddest part of the show. Quiet, reflective, and heavy with grief, it felt like a proper funeral moment — that raw, gut-punch feeling of loss before anything else. But as the show went on, that sadness slowly started to lift. Bit by bit, it shifted into something more joyful and celebratory, which made the whole journey feel really moving and real. It mirrored how grief can change shape over time — never fully gone, but softened by connection and joy.

Overall, WAKE is one of those shows that doesn’t try to be neat or polished — and that’s kind of the point. It’s about messiness, chaos, celebration, and the weird beauty that comes with all of that. You come out of it feeling uplifted, moved, and weirdly grateful to be alive. Which, for a show about death, is kind of perfect.

If you’re after something a bit different — bold, big-hearted, and properly fun — this one’s worth catching.

REVIEW: Abigail’s Party

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Rating: 3 out of 5.

A stylish, entertaining production with strong performances, though the plot twist lacks impact

I went into Abigail’s Party not really knowing what to expect, but it turned out to be a funny, slightly odd night that left me thinking about class, awkward social dynamics, and how much people can unravel in just one evening. The show’s set in the 1970s and follows a group of neighbours having a few drinks together – though it’s never just that simple.

The cast were all brilliant, especially Kym Marsh as Beverly. She completely owned the stage – loud, confident, constantly topping up people’s drinks whether they wanted one or not. She played the character with the right mix of charm and pushiness, which kept things feeling quite funny but also a bit uncomfortable at times. You can tell she’s used to being the centre of attention, and honestly, I couldn’t take my eyes off her – she brought most of the humour too, especially with her dancing and little side comments.

Graeme Hawley as Lawrence gave a solid performance as her husband – a bit uptight and clearly not as in control as he’d like to be. I found his moments quite funny, but also slightly sad at times, especially when he started going on about the people moving into the area. Yasmin Taheri, who played Angela, was sweet and quite easy to warm to. You could tell she was trying to fit in, maybe a bit too eager to go along with everyone else, but that made her feel real. Her husband, Tony, played by Kyle Rowe, barely spoke – but when he did, the room went quiet. There’s a lot in the way he looks at Angela, or doesn’t – it made me feel a bit uneasy, which I think was the point.

Tupele Dorgu as Susan was also great. She brought a quieter energy to the group, kind of acting as the outsider looking in. You could see her getting more uncomfortable as the night went on, worried about her daughter Abigail, who’s throwing her own party down the road. Even though we never meet Abigail, her presence hangs over the whole night – which is quite clever, really.

The set was genuinely stunning. It was so detailed, and just screamed ’70s – from the patterns on the furniture to the record player and drinks trolley. The revolving stage was a really nice touch too, especially when it moved along with the music. I don’t normally notice things like that, but it really added something. You got to see different parts of the house, and it helped break up the action in a subtle way.

My only real issue with the play was the pacing. It all takes place over one evening, which makes sense for the setup, but it meant the first half felt a bit slow. Not much actually happens until near the end, and by that point I was starting to wonder what the show was trying to say. There are hints throughout at deeper issues – bits about racism, class, and even power dynamics between the couples – but they’re never really explored properly. When the big twist came at the end, it felt a bit random. I get that it’s meant to show how thin the veneer of polite society is, but it didn’t quite land for me emotionally. It didn’t really feel like a proper dramatic moment.

That said, I did enjoy it overall. It’s well acted, looks great, and there are definitely moments that made me laugh – especially anything Kym Marsh was doing. I’m just not sure I totally got what it was all for. It felt like the play was building to something that never really arrived, and I left not quite knowing what I was meant to take from it.

Still, if you’re into character-driven plays with a bit of dark humour and some brilliant ‘70s nostalgia, it’s worth seeing. Just don’t expect it to go anywhere big – it’s more of a slow burn than a proper bang.