Ke Meng

REVIEW: I Saw Satan at 7-Eleven

Published on April 24, 2026April 24, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

An essential love letter

I Saw Satan at the 7-Eleven is probably one of the most beautifully written monologue plays I’ve seen in the past few years, if not the best. Written and performed by Christopher Brett Bailey, pretty much as the title indicates, Bailey meets Satan at a 7-Eleven, where the Devil is trying to refuel his car. They talk. Bailey realises that Satan is a heavy-metal headbanger who at times helps the good guys, and also a believer in a whole spectrum of outdated and trendy conspiracy theories. There are definitely political reflections, but probably in nature it’s just an once-in-a-life-time encounter.

What makes the performance extraordinary is how precisely its approach sits right with the text. It is not theatrically striking: Bailey sits at a desk, unmoved for 70 minutes, with only minimal lighting changes (Alex Fernandes). Initially, I was wondering whether the piece might benefit from more theatricality: maybe an ensemble, elaborate props, live video and projections, and a heavier, perhaps more “European” directorial hand. I quickly rehearsed that stage in my mind, releasing it doesn’t gonna work. Overwhelming visual can be detrimental to the writing, because it needs the vision in your mind. It needs imagination.

Then came a second thought. Why shall I sit in a theatre watching the writer read his story, when I could just as easily listen to it on the radio or, more contemporarily, via a livestream? Again that didn’t hold either, as I suspect I would have drifted away from it in those formats. In fact, only the current way Bailey performing works. It has to be a virtuoso storyteller, presented live, to the audience. I Saw Satan at the 7-Eleven quietly proves how live storytelling lasts, in its own way, indispensable and irreplaceable in the whole territory within contemporary theatre and performance art.

Bailey’s voice is the perfect vehicle for this satanic road-side fable. His delivery is unhurried and intimate, allowing the story to unfold as if of its own accord. His tone is low and warm, but reminds you of a cool summer night after sex, perhaps with a devil, I reckon. From time to time, a note of helpless self-mockery flickers through, drawing you into his desperate gentleness. At the same time, Bailey shows a deft responsiveness to the audience, whether it was an accidentally ringing alarm, or an audience member pitied Satan when he’s rejected for sex.

I left with unrequited desire, a desire to perform I Saw Satan at the 7-Eleven to someone I love, looking into her eyes, and telling her, that the world is nothing, and that I am home.

REVIEW: Nayatt School Redux

Published on April 19, 2026April 19, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

revisiting and reinventing embodied theatrical liveness

The Wooster Group was no stranger to me when I was studying. They were almost everywhere: in textbooks, in journal articles on their famous Hamlet, and in conferences. They have long stood as a synonym for avant-garde theatre in the English-speaking world, and beyond.

When it comes to Nayatt School Redux, I am not exactly surprised, or pushed off, by their signature screen/live approach: extracting archived performances projected on screen while actors enact the same scenes in front of it. While live-camera and multi-media projection now seem so common and even overused, theatre’s ontology was much under peril in the 1970s, threatened by mass media such as television and cinema. Thus, theatre was made forced to rethink and justify itself, and pioneers of theatre practitioners painstakingly navigate their ways in between embodied liveness and mediated materials.

The Wooster Group is one of these pioneers. Performing in the liminal space in-between archive and living embodiment to validate and surpass both, Nayatt School Redux is of no exception. As a contemporary reworking of Nayatt School, originally created by Elizabeth LeCompte and Spalding Gray, this remake opens with Wooster Group member Kate Valk unveiling newly restored archival recordings of Gray’s original performance, interwoven with her own encounters with the company, before the current ensemble reenacts scenes from the 1978 piece, including T. S. Eliot’s The Cocktail Party, moving toward a climactic reanimation of performative social disguise, chaos and despair.

Using Diana Taylor’s terms, The Wooster Group often stages the friction between archive and a live event, where the performance per se becomes a way of storing and transmitting knowledge. This was already evident from The Town Hall Affair where the documentary Town Bloody Hall, a documentary about a squawky 1971 Town Hall debate on women’s liberation, serves as the archival source material. In Nayatt School Redux, that archival source becomes Gray’s original performance recordings, in front of which Valk and later Scott Shepherd enact the same action to carry forward their bodies. To me, this feels extremely exhilarating to summon living memories through living bodies.

T. S. Eliot’s The Cocktail Party was chosen by LeCompte and Gray in 1978 to integrate Gray’s innermost autobiographical voice and through a more theatrical, or in Richard Schechner’s terms, more “performative” frame. In this remake, that choice illustrates such performativity when the full ensemble reinvents the party scene as most ferociously raw, undisciplined, and desperately ecstatic, which still feels uncannily relatable today.

Some half a century ago, theatre was thought to be under threat of disappearance, supposedly eclipsed by mass media. Today, that anxiety returns with Netflix and its countless imitators. Under such conditions, Nayatt School Redux feels urgent and necessary: it is both a site and a signpost for us to revisit again and again, the ultimate value of embodiment liveness, and how such value can confront, mediate, and coexist with whatever new medium appears to demystify the ontology of theatre.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Kai Tomioka

Published on April 16, 2026April 15, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

25 years after Michael Nunn and William Trevitt’s critically acclaimed debut performance Pointless at the Roundhouse, pioneering dance company BalletBoyz will return to the stage with Still Pointless leads audiences on a retrospective journey through a quarter of a century of daring commissioning, producing, and performing dance across stage and screen. We interviewed one of the dancers, Kai, to share how they feel.

This show looks both backward and forward at once. When you are dancing a piece with history like Critical Mass, do you feel more like a custodian of legacy or a creator of something new?

Thinking about lineage and legacy, Critical Mass sits somewhere in the middle of those two things, and when I’m performing it, I have to consider being a both custodian and a creator at the same time. By definition, contemporary dance talks about the present, so performing something that was contemporary 25 years ago requires reinterpreting to make it able to say something about where we are now. Dancing a work like Critical Mass means honouring what has come before, aspiring to what may lie ahead, and that way create a container for both the past and the future. But when I perform the work live, it is solely about that present moment in time.

BalletBoyz is known for blending film and live performance. How does that shift the way you inhabit the stage? Do you feel you are dancing for an audience, a camera, or something in between?

The depends on the what the work is and how it is intended to be perceived, but for me as a dancer, although I have a degree of responsibility for the audience, ultimately my responsibility is about performing it for myself as an artist and for the integrity of the work. The added factor is that BalletBoyz sits in the margin between contemporary dance and classical technique to an extent, and classical dance has a different presentational project to any audience, whether it is live on stage or for the camera. As a dancer, I have to think about where I sit within that, and how I balance projecting out versus projecting in.

The programme spans a wide range of choreographers and styles. Which piece challenged you the most personally, and why?

We’re currently about halfway through the rehearsal period, and I have found Fiction particularly challenging. The character I perform in the work is separated from the rest of the group, which means I have struggled to find a consensus with everyone else about what the work considers and what it has to say. Fiction was created very specifically on and for the people who were in the studio at the time, so now I need to start working on making it my own. We’re still at the point in the rehearsal process where we’re replicating something that has come before, and we as a company of dancers need to now determine how we make this something new that we can give our own contribution to. It brings up questions about how we inhabit the history and legacy of each work, whilst also transforming it into something that is reinterpreted and forward-looking. But we have to learn the work first, because how can you change something that you don’t know? We need to be able to understand it first in order to translate it.

There is a signature irreverence to BalletBoyz, a refusal to take ballet too seriously. How does that philosophy show up in your rehearsal room day to day?

I’m not sure that the irreverence of BalletBoyz is a refusal to take ballet or dance too seriously. The definition of serious doesn’t mean cold or formal, warmth and joy and personality can also be synonymous with taking something seriously or being passionate about it. The misconception of what serious looks like warps the perception of what dance can mean and how it can be viewed – I think the irreverence is more about finding a different path to creating valuable art. We don’t need to suffer for what we do. How this manifests in the studio, which is full of hard-working, passionate, dedicated, and serious artists, for me is about the fact that I am allowed to be a person before I’m a dancer. This allowance to be myself adds layers to the work that is presented on stage. The philosophy also shows up in the studio through the realisation that creativity is, has to be, both play and hard work at the same time, and understanding that art is not found through limitation but through freedom.

You are performing work by choreographers such as Christopher Wheeldon and Maxine Doyle alongside a brand-new commission. How does it feel to move between established voices and emerging ones within the same evening?

For me, dance is dance, identity is identity, refinement is refinement, so the difference between an established voice and emerging voice isn’t necessarily materialised in us as dancers or in how we present work on stage.

If you could describe this 25-year journey not in steps but in a feeling, what does Still Pointless mean to you as a dancer right now?

I wouldn’t be doing what I do now if I thought that it was pointless, which is what the 25-year journey of BalletBoyz encapsulates. For some people dance may be pointless, and the importance of dance is being diminished all the time, which we’re being told through funding cuts and reduced performance opportunities and everything else that’s happening in the industry. But there’s a duality to dance: it can mean nothing but it can also mean everything, it’s something that is both completely imaginary and also the most real thing we can do. For us as dancers, it has always had value and it always will, and that gives us a reason for doing it, otherwise we wouldn’t put ourselves through any of this. So this is all we can do, all we can do is continue dancing. I don’t mean that in a hopeless way, I mean to say that this is the most hopeful thing I or any dancer can do in this environment – just to simply keep doing it.

For tickets and listing, please visit here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Will Fowler

Published on April 7, 2026April 3, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

Trash! The Wildest Films You’ve Ever Seen is now at BFI Southbank until 30 April. We hold this exclusive dialogue with Will, BFI National Archive curator and co-programmer.

· Trash cinema wears “bad taste” as a badge of honour, but where do you personally draw the line between deliberate transgression and something that simply fails?

I think the line between those states lies very much in the eye of the beholder and is even deliberately blurred in the case of some filmmakers, like say Jack Smith (NORMAL LOVE). But what does failure mean? If a film gets made and is shown on the big screen, then its successful from the perspective of the creative act. If something fails according to expectations of mainstream Hollywood cinema then instead it is doing something different.

· Many of these films were born in marginal, DIY spaces, so does bringing them into an institution like the BFI risk softening their original anarchic spirit?

Sometimes it can feel like it but in many cases the provocative punch of these works still strikes the optic nerve and in a comfortable, nice cinema may even have more impact – something dissonant can happen. These works were always straddling the underground and the acceptance of more established environments – it almost feels part of their DNA. John Waters’ PINK FLAMINGOS played at Cannes, for instance.

· The season spans from the 1930s to the 1990s, so what surprised you most about how the definition of “trash” has evolved or perhaps stubbornly refused to?

Trash feels like a time specific cinema which we indulge in now slightly retroactively. We experience it in the present when we view trash films but at the time of production they were creating the concept and working it out. There’s something transcendent about pasting marginal lives and activities up on the cinema screen, at huge scale. So that limits the time scope to a pre-home video age, arguably. In terms of surprise, I can still sometimes be astonished at how strong and transgressive early cinema can be.

· Films like Pink Flamingos still shock today, so do you think modern audiences are harder to scandalise or have we simply changed what we are scandalised by?

Some films once considered shocking now feel like historic artefacts, their production aesthetics more clearly linking them to a certain time. But some films, as noted, still pack a punch, for sure. Naturally, we’re scandalised by different things now however cinema was once the domain of shock and scandal, with calls for films to be banned, but this happen incredibly rarely now. The channels of communications are so much broader. It changes from the specific to the general – we talk about types of content now or platforms, rarely a particular piece of moving image material. However, sit certain people down with certain films and they would be freaked out. But that’s the domain of in the individual rather than a kind of mass hysteria as was the case with the video nasties. There’s a lot to say about this question!

· There is a strong thread of queer identity and outsider voices running through the programme, so how central is trash cinema to preserving histories that mainstream film ignored or erased?

It’s essential. Certain identities only lived in these spaces and in certain respects these works act as a kind of metaphysical documentary record, preserving faces, attitudes and creative endeavours. The people in these works are heroes to a great many people.

· With the pristine 35mm restoration of Plan 9 from Outer Space, is there a delicious irony in giving one of the so called worst films ever made the archival reverence usually reserved for masterpieces?

Strictly speaking it’s not a restoration but a new print made from original elements. We didn’t intervene or recreate anything but I take your point! To be able to make a new print is actually what’s of interest, what is says about the films we preserve in the BFI National Archive, in certain respects. The collection is enormous and encompasses all types of film. And for the record, Plan 9 from Outer Space is a good film with all sort of curious, extraordinary things going on in it. Making a new print means people get to see it as it was originally intended – on film, in a cinema. The cult of this film has been made through the video age, arguably, but that only increases the reason to put it back on film. People can see it as it was intended – and looking really good! I think Ed Wood always knew his films would endure and receive some larger appreciation later in life. So many are about resurrection – and we’re resurrecting Plan 9 on celluloid. Ed Wood has the last laugh.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Abigail Odat

Published on April 5, 2026March 24, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

Based on the much-loved film and featuring music by Alan Menken, Sister Act is a joyful, high-energy musical comedy – a feel-good celebration of community, inclusivity and a little bit of divine disco. We hold this exclusive dialogue with Abigail Odat, the co-director of the show.

Q: This show is known for it’s joy and energy – how have you approached capturing that spirit with Centre Stage London?
We’ve really embraced the joy and energy of the show by celebrating the diversity of the Centre Stage society and our cast. Amateur theatre in London brings together people from all walks of life, and that mix of backgrounds and experiences is something we’re incredibly proud of. As a production team, we’re proud to continue celebrating inclusivity and openness, and we’ve loved making sure everyone has the chance to shine and bring their own individuality to the stage.

We’ve also leaned into the show’s energy, turning it into a real celebration of dance, perhaps even more than you might usually see in Sister Act the Musical. So prepare to be dazzled by disco!

Q: What was it about Sister Act the Musical that made you want to bring it to Fulham Broadway right now?

Sister Act the Musical is a story about overcoming differences to find your community, and that’s a message that feels particularly powerful right now. London is full of people from different backgrounds, and has a wonderful sense of community that really reflects the heart of this show. So, really it felt like a no brainer! Plus, this show is full of joy, energy and phenomenal music, which is something we could all use a bit more of. After all, who couldn’t do with a good laugh and a little disco in their lives these days?

Q: Alan Menken’s music is so iconic – were there any numbers that particularly excited or challenged the cast?

His score really is iconic, and our Musical Director, Eve Millward, has done a fabulous job of bringing it to life. The great thing about Sister Act the Musical is that it’s jam packed full of different songs – from disco-inspiration to powerful ballads, so there’s so much to take in. Songs like ‘Raise Your Voice’ and ‘Sunday Morning Fever’ are big crowd-pleasers, but they’ve also been a challenge for the cast too. In the songs, we’re constantly switching between small scenes of dialogue to dancing and singing, so they require a lot of energy and focus from everyone involved. It’s demanding, but the cast and creative team has had an absolute blast bringing the score to life!

Q: What has it been like working with this particular cast and creative team?

Working with this cast and creative team has been fantastic. Because the show celebrates (quite literally) ‘Sisters Doing It for Themselves’ we felt it was only right to bring together an all-female production team. We’re incredibly proud of the talented production group we’ve assembled, who have worked together to create such a knock-your-socks-off production. Their creativity and vision has resulted in a really unique take on Sister Act the Musical that will delight even the biggest fans! (But I won’t say too much more on that, as I don’t want to give away the surprises!).

The level of talent on stage is also remarkable. Casting was such a tough process because there were so many strong performers, but we’re overjoyed with the final cast. The show moves at a relentless pace and there’s a huge amount the cast have had to learn, but the they’ve more than risen to the challenge, and they are ready to shine on the Oratory stage.

Q: For someone who’s never seen Sister Act before, what would you say to tempt them into the theatre?

If you’ve never seen Sister Act the Musical, this is the perfect introduction! It’s a joyful, feel-good musical packed with powerful gospel-inspired songs, dazzling choreography and plenty of heartfelt humour. The story follows Deloris Van Cartier, a lounge singer forced into hiding in a convent, where she unexpectedly transforms the choir, and the lives of the nuns around her.

Our production is a full-throttle celebration of community, inclusivity and a little divine disco energy. It’s uplifting, funny and full of soul, guaranteed to send you out of the theatre smiling.

For tickets and listing, please visit here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Jez Bond

Published on April 3, 2026March 23, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

Artistic Director Jez Bond, Executive Director Catherine McKinney, and the whole team at Park Theatre announced further details of Whodunnit [Unrehearsed] 4, the next instalment of its hugely popular fundraising comedy spectacular, which returns from 11 May – 27 June 2026 with the most ambitious version yet. We hold this exclusive dialogue with Jez.

Each performance features a different unrehearsed guest sheriff. What continues to surprise you about that format?

I think it’s a perfect blend of comic structure and comic chaos. Looking on, it might not seem like it all the time but the cast are utterly in control of every moment. Interestingly the blocking (unless we specifically allow it not to be for a short time) is the same from person to person; which is all about the skills of how the actors manipulate the stage space. The star is always exactly where we want them to be – which is particularly important, of course, for the jokes that rely on them facing the wrong way or addressing the wrong person! But the surprise is also that there’s plenty of space for each actor to bring their flair to the table, to portray the character in a different way and – here’s the real answer, I think – for the audience to enjoy the different live reactions on the stars’ faces. Many people come more than once and you might see one actor taking it very seriously, another trying to but with a glint in their eye, yet another might have a number of corpses throughout (yes, I know it’s a murder mystery but I’m not talking about dead bodies, I’m talking about the kind or corpse where you allow yourself to visibly laugh).

How does the success of Whodunnit [Unrehearsed] directly impact the theatre’s ability to develop new work and support artists?

We need to raise around £600,000 per year on top of regular box office income to stay afloat. Because we believe that theatre is for everybody, and a big part of accessibility is affordability, we don’t want to charge West End prices. We also do a huge amount of work in the community, from programmes with young people through to our flagship dementia work. As such, as a charity, we need to make up our shortfall by fundraising. We don’t get any core funding from the Arts Council or local government – and with individual donations, smaller scale events and trust and foundation support we’re able to bring in half of what we need each year. The Whodunnit show, running every other year, makes up that gap. It’s not exaggeration to say that it’s totally vital to our continued operation. In terms of supporting new work and new artists, this is a big commitment of ours. Across our two spaces we programme more new work than revivals and we also provide space and support to a number of companies and individuals each year to develop their work.

What does it say about Park Theatre’s identity that an event like this has become part of its DNA?

Ha! Financially I suppose it says that this creative idea borne out of need is now a regular fixture necessary to stay alive. I hope for our patrons it says that Park Theatre is known for exciting, fun work and for being able to harness the incredible power and generosity of its high profile friends (all of whom perform, I must add, for free to support the charity). I should also add that as a fundraiser tickets for this one are purposefully significantly higher – as it’s doing this show that enables us to run for the rest of the year. But even so we’re keen to ensure some lower price tickets and booking early is the best strategy as prices may change based on demand. Conversely there are also a limited number of standing tickets released on the day of each performance at our discretion. We are also going to be doing Lottery tickets – a small number of tickets for each performance at a reduced price. Full details on how to enter that will be announced closer to the show.

When audiences leave Graveside at the end of the evening, what do you hope stays with them?

So much! From the wonderful, themed food and cocktails throughout the night to the exciting touches across the building – whether that be actors conversing in character in the bar, or the addition of hay bales and whiskey barrels throughout. Of course, on stage I think there’s a few gags that will stay with them for a long time (there are still people who tell me they haven’t forgotten a particular gag in the first reading we did of this new script a year ago). But overall, I think the feeling you’re left with after Whodunnit (perhaps more so than ever in this all-encompassing immersive version) is the joy of having experienced something truly special that will never be repeated.

For tickets and listing, see https://parktheatre.co.uk/events/whodunnit-unrehearsed-4/

REVIEW: This Is Not About Me

Published on March 31, 2026March 31, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

A strikingly inventive exploration of intimacy

What is intimacy? Is it awkward? Is it exhilarating? Is it something that will inevitably hurt? Is it negotiation over micro-powerdynamics, or a zero-sum game? Written and designed by Hannah Caplan, and directed and dramaturged by Douglas Clarke-Wood, This Is Not About Me acutely explores the shifting meanings of intimacy through Grace and Eli, a pair entangled in an intricate, long-standing relationship.

The design situates the show within multiple spider-like nets, with a trolley-bed at the central stage, and a projection screen behind. A pillow on the bed reads “Things we hate about each other”, followed by another declaring “Things we love about each other”. The pair meets after a long while to unwind their past.

The first 20 minutes may feel a bit chopped up. There are witty exchanges and word-plays, but they are often lost amid overly frequent scene transitions, awkward puppetry, and indistinct video projections. Nonetheless, the play precisely captures and transfixes the awkward atmosphere of the pair whose history spans over intimacy, friendship and almost destruction. Interestingly, there is a kind of inverted parallel at work: while the narrative unfolds in reverse chronological order, its emotional intensity grows progressively deeper, barer, and much more unfiltered.

The use of subtitles is one of the best, if not the best, I have ever seen, perfectly reflecting what Grace indulges in as “contradiction and pretence as flirting”, while sitting in tension with the stark bareness of her “I love sex” speech. Their puppetry-based sex scene, in that sense, becomes a curious synthesis of both – something at once ultimately raw and predominantly pretentious.

The show finds its strongest footing in the latter half, where it turns more metatheatrical, becoming a play about Grace writing a play about Grace and Eli, where their power-dynamic parallels the power-dynamic between those who have pen and those who have not, about the authenticity of self and how that self is (re)presented in other’s stories, as well as about physical theatrical presence and their visualised counterpart.

One scene is particularly convincing. Eli (Francis Nunnery), in physical presence, interacts with a projected image of Grace (video designer Inigo Woodham-Smith), appearing almost like lying together. In the meantime, the physical presence of Amaia Naima Aguinaga, the actor of Grace, “puppeteering” Nunnery through those nets of ropes, thus embodying her fantasised imagery of Eli. Repulsed, Eli avenges by counter-writing a screenplay that polishes his own phallocentric fantasies.

The show ends up with the pair becoming absolutely bare about how they feel (including a fart joke), and the projection features their first meeting years ago. This dramaturgical and directorial decision somehow loses its momentum and feels a bit inadequate and undernourished. However, this does little to diminish its overall achievement, which offers probing perspectives, refreshing theatrical explorations and an exposed intimacy not just between Grace and Eli, but between the show and the audience.

This show runs from 25th March until 18th April. Tickets here.

Photo Provided By Southbank Centre Website

REVIEW: St John Passion

Published on March 31, 2026March 31, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

Finely sung with beautiful moments

One week before Easter, at Southbank Centre’s Queen Elizabeth Hall, the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment presented St John Passion under the direction of Johanna Soller, which also marked her London debut. Alongside, there were James Way as the Evangelist and Peter Edge as Christus, soprano Hilary Cronin, mezzo-soprano Helen Charlston and tenor Jonathan Hanley in the meditative arias, joined by the Choir of the Age of Enlightenment as the ensemble.

Many of the soloists showcased striking and promising talent. As the Evangelist, Way delivered a supple lyricism with refined nuance, helping to hold the ensemble together. As the primary storyteller, his voice carried a devoted piety but was tinged with subtle worry, worrying about Christus not as Lord but as human. This “humanisation of Christus” was further reflected in Edge’s portrayal, particularly in the recitative “Jesus ging mit seinen Jüngern”, where a trace of disappointment and melancholy was undercurrent, especially in the line, “Shall I not drink the cup which my Father has given me?”. Hilary Cronin, as the soprano, stole the evening with “Zerfließe, mein Herze, in Fluten der Zähren”. The aria was exquisite: her timbre was weightless, paired with a finely balanced light-mix that seamlessly dissolved into the instrumental texture.

However, despite these compelling solo moments, Soller appeared to struggle in articulating a coherent interpretive philosophy. What kind of St John Passion this was meant to be. Was it to be dramatic or intimate, historically informed or more modern? For instance, the opening chorus, “Herr, unser Herrscher”, can unfold as searing and overwhelming, full of dramatic tension. Bach’s modernity, in its harmonic clashes, is at once refreshing, unsettling, and even wild.

Here, the opening lacked both precision and intensity, as many notes came off as “oh, this is a bit hasty”, and the ensemble was not fully locked in, nor did the instruments properly engage. The dissonance struggled to accumulate the intensity through the violins’ and the basses’ quavers, which should have driven towards the three thunderous “Herr”.

Such interpretive vagueness lasted throughout the night, which made the whole performance feel like a missed opportunity. Much less performed by St Matthew Passion, St John Passion may demand a more sharply defined and affective direction.

This show finished its run on 29th March. Tickets for other shows at Queen Elizabeth Hall can be found here – https://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/whats-on/.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: James Cumming

Published on March 22, 2026March 21, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

Up-and-coming local theatre company Locked In Thought is proud to announce its spring production of Neil LaBute’s Tony-nominated play, Reasons To Be Pretty. The production will run for a limited four-night engagement from 1st – 4th April 2026 at the Assembly Roxy (Upstairs). A Youngish Perspective holds this exclusive dialogue with James.

1. What was your initial response when you read Reasons To Be Pretty for the first time?

Honestly, it was a whirlwind of emotions. First of all, how the hell are we going to do pull this off? But we really did all love it, and knew we had to put it on immediately after we read it. So we decided to take on the challenge! It represents all of our company values and the type of theatre we want to share with audiences. It’s quite a shocking play but also extremely funny and in a weird way beautiful too. There hasn’t been a play quite like it, which really drew us to it. Each character is so unique in their own way and very nuanced. The pace of the play is also brilliant and it really packs a lot in. It was the perfect play to choose for our company as we’re all about creating thought provoking and exciting theatre.

2. This piece feels particularly relevant in a culture shaped by social media and image. How do you see its themes resonating with audiences today?

A lot of people today, especially young people, are glued to their smartphones and have an obsessive need to get validation from other people. They have this obsession with their image and how their image, whether that be online or in person, appears to other people. By doing this play, we hope it gives people a new perspective on the dangers of being obsessed with how you look in life and how it can be detrimental to a relationship. If you determine your self worth purely on how you look, it can have a damaging effect on you and the people around you. The play delves into this topic quite deeply, the themes discussed are certainly not black and white, which is why we want the people leaving the theatre asking questions and discussing intently about what they’ve just seen.

3. The play revolves around two couples whose dynamics begin to fracture. How important has rehearsal been in building authentic chemistry within the ensemble?

Absolutely vital, the play is quite intimate and we needed the character relationships to feel authentic and meaningful. We wanted everyone to be comfortable with each other so nothing felt forced. It helps a lot that a few of us knew each other from past shows and drama school training, but it was still important to get the whole cast to have great chemistry. We did lots of fun games and warm ups so people felt comfortable with each other. Being silly with the cast is actually really important as it relaxes everyone plus we all bond. We actually even met up a few times outside rehearsal just to do fun stuff (like MarioKart), and that really helped to bring a new energy and dynamic to the rehearsals as we all started to become really good friends. From where we were at the start to where we are now, everyone is a lot more close. And of course it’s due to constantly rehearsing the text, but also having a good laugh and remembering to being a bit silly now and again.

4. Greg is at the centre of the storm created by his comment. How did you approach understanding his perspective without simplifying or judging him?

This was really important for us, cause we didn’t want to make everyone hate him. We had lots of cast discussions, talking about his motivations and why he said what he said. We combed through the text, which gives a strong indication of his way of thinking. And we came to the conclusion that Steph and Greg are both very different

people. To Greg, he feels he doesn’t need to say to Steph that she is beautiful she just is. To Steph, she doesn’t understand why he can’t just call her beautiful. So they end up locking horns because they both are on different pages about self worth and beauty in a relationship, despite their deep love for one another, which is what make it all the more heartbreaking. Greg doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong, he’s genuinely confused because that is how he is. That’s how we approached him to make him feel human, an average guy who just doesn’t understand..

5. The Upstairs space at the Assembly Roxy offers a very intimate setting. How does performing in such close proximity to the audience shape your performance?

It shapes it a lot actually, especially with entrances and exits. There are many moments where characters enter from the audience and are actually sitting in the auditorium to help the audience feel like they are part of the world. We wanted it to feel like the audience is almost living in the story, because most of the play is just dialogue so having that intimate setting helps a lot to get the full rollercoaster of emotions. And quite a rollercoaster it is! It was important we had an smaller venue, as with a bigger theatre the subtle yet important reactions and expressions (which are so important in this play) would get lost. There is so much going on, so having the Assembly Roxy is perfect as the audience can really watch and feel everything that is happening. We wanted the audience to feel really involved in the show.

6. As an up-and-coming company, Locked In Thought is taking on a Tony- nominated play. What does it mean to be part of this production at this stage in your career?

For me, it’s massive. It’s the second show we’ve put on with this company and it’s a much bigger feat than Fringe. It’s a lot more complex character wise but also the story itself and how it is told is a challenge to perform. There is so much dialogue between the characters. I’ve never experienced anything quit like it before. Lots of interruptions, fast paced yet also quite naturalistic. It’s strange, I can’t quite explain it. But I love it, I love the madness of it all. It blends realism and heightened theatre very well. Playing the part of Greg, who has so many layers, and with such a beautiful character arc, it’s very exciting for my career.

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REVIEW: Hung Dance’s Push and Pull

Published on March 16, 2026March 15, 2026 by Ke MengLeave a comment

finely controlled

Push and Pull by Taiwanese choreographer Lai Hung-chung is a piece intends to explore resilience and connection through an encounter between two dancers, Lee Kuan-ling and Lu Ying-chieh, inspired by the principles of Tai Chi and the physics of force and balance.

There is a curious object, a moveable “brick” constructed from two tables and two chairs, onstage accompanied by a watery lamp. Although this can be visually suggestive, the set remains unconvincing to the performance’s unfolding dynamics. The opening few minutes feel more like a mime than a dance, conveying a certain atmosphere of suspended horror where one of the performers moves with a cautious alertness, and the other appears as an unseen presence. While it tries to be haunting, it is actually quite playful.

Initially, Lee Kuan-ling appears the more organic presence on stage, while Lu Ying-chieh carries a distinctly non-human physicality. This asymmetry gradually shifts when Lu grows vitality and momentum, while Lee begins to assume the more object-like presence.

What I love about Push and Pull is that the show places its emphasis on the literally physical act of “push and pull”. In this sense it feels almost mechanistic in a positive way. While the power dynamics of pushing and pulling could certainly be interpreted in a more semiotic direction, what strikes me more is the entanglement of two sheer forces. It is a work interested in both “the presence of the body” and “the body being present”.

However, this is also where, regrettably, Push and Pull does not go deep in that direction. While both dancers, are extremely skilful, Lai’s choreography feels overly refined and perfected, lacking the unfiltered rawness of the body, the lingering traces of friction produced by two confronting bodies, and the impact of that irreducibility. The show thus becomes hyper-symbolic at the cost of its physical vitality. Especially when the soundscape by Kuo Yu, featuring amplified breathing, is already quite visceral, this too finely tuned choreography ultimately feels somewhat disappointing.

For a piece so invested in the dynamics of force, the absence of roughness and unpredictability feels like a miss fire. This push and full, in general, exceeds in precision and smoothness.