REVIEW:  Inspector Morse: House of Ghosts


Rating: 3 out of 5.

Murder takes centre stage in this dynamic whodunnit – a twisty, theatrical treat that breathes new life into a classic character.


There’s something undeniably thrilling about a murder mystery set in a theatre. Add a renowned detective such as Inspector Morse to the mix, and you’ve got the kind of premise that feels bound to succeed. Thankfully, Inspector Morse: House of Ghosts does a good job of living up to its potential. Indeed, it opens with one of the most dynamic starts to a play I’ve seen in a while.

We begin not with Morse, but with Hamlet – or rather, Justin (Spin Glancy) playing Hamley. The production launches with a play-within-a-play conceit, instantly pulling us in: we, the audience, are characters now ourselves, playing the audience watching a performance. Justin is centre stage delivering a melancholy monologue, and Rebecca (Eliza Teale) enters as Ophelia. It’s a clever set-up, heightened by murmurs, background noise and disruption from the ‘audience’ that, for a moment, had me convinced that someone behind me was demonstrating terrible theatre etiquette.

Then, mid-scene, Rebecca drops dead – and Shakespeare gives way to Morse.

Tom Chambers’ Inspector Morse makes his entrance not from the wings but from the back of the auditorium, striding towards the stage as if he’d been sitting in the audience with us. Director Lawrence (Jason Done) leaps to the front of the upper circle, calling down to him. It’s a bold, engaging opening that makes excellent use of the whole theatre space, and immediately establishes this as a production that wants to harness the power of live performance.

For fans of the original TV series (and of course, the Colin Dexter crime novels), this is a strong and respectful adaptation of the character. The mystery itself is satisfyingly intricate, layered with secrets, hidden relationships, and the kind of red herrings and complex revelations that Morse is known for. At times, as the case unravelled further, I’ll admit I found myself scrambling to keep up. The play was moving at a speed that far outpaced my brain slowly connecting the dots! But what keeps it from being too overwhelming is the clarity of the performances – each member of the cast is clearly define, their motivations and personalities distinct enough to keep you anchored even as the plot twists further.

The staging also deserves particular praise – the set makes great use of rotating pieces, shifting us rapidly from backstage dressing rooms to the police station to the pub. Most effectively, the back of the stage features an image of auditorium seats, so that at times it feels as though we really are on stage with the actors, looking out into an empty house. It’s a well-utilised trick that keeps us very much in the moment with the characters, and reinforcing the idea that this mystery is as much about performance as it is about crime.

The characters all take very distinct roles, bordering on caricatures at times, allowing each person to play a clear role in the puzzle – and the production delights in keeping the audience guessing. The interval was accompanied by a hum of excited speculation; it was a lot of fun to overhear my fellow audience members predicting what would happen next. I, too, spent the interval theorising who was guilty (I was wrong). There’s something uniquely communal about a good whodunnit, and this one leans into that.

That said, there were moments when the acting tipped slightly into overstatement. A little more restraint in places might have allowed for greater nuance, particularly with Morse himself. The script offers him the suggestion of an intriguing backstory and hints at an emotional depth that is quite distinct from what’s offered in the television incarnation. I couldn’t help wishing that this production had leant into this more – particularly with such promising material. Chambers certainly captures Morse’s intensity and cynicism, but there’s an opportunity here for more depth that felt just out of reach.

However, these are quibbles in what is overall a thoroughly enjoyable evening. The final twist genuinely caught me off guard (the true test of a good murder mystery) and resolution is both satisfying and dramatically earned. Anyone who loves a cleverly constructed whodunnit, filled with twists and grand reveals, will find plenty to enjoy here.

Perhaps most hearteningly, House of Ghosts feels like a generational uniter. I went with my mum, a longtime Morse fan, and we were surrounded by others similarly sharing the experience with family. Some were clearly there for the nostalgia of a beloved detective, while others like me were there for the thrill of seeing a mystery unfold on stage. The result was a warm, buzzing atmosphere that felt shared – and truly fun.

In short, Inspector Morse: House of Ghosts is a twisty, theatrical treat: smart, playful and taking interesting steps to remind us why we love watching secrets unravel on stage – all while breathing new life into a classic character.

This show runs at The Arts Theatre Cambridge until 14 February 2026, before continuing on tour.

REVIEW: The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry the Musical at the Theatre Royal Haymarket


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Heartfelt, thoughtful, and truly affecting, Harold Fry takes you on a pilgrimage to show the importance of human connection.


Adapted from Rachel Joyce’s bestselling novel, and following a hugely successful run at Chichester Festival Theatre, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry has now opened in the West End for a limited run.

If you’re new to the story, Harold Fry is an ordinary man who receives an unexpected letter from an old friend – he sets out to post his reply, and just keeps walking. Before he has time to process what’s happening, his quick trip to the post box turns into a pilgrimage across England, meeting people from all walks of life that force him to reconsider his outlook and confront his own emotions. What follows is a touching story about grief, love, regret, and the unexpected power of human connection.

Mark Addy is exactly as good as you’d hope as Harold. His performance is warm, understated, and deeply relatable. Harold is a man carrying a lot of unsaid sadness, and Addy plays that beautifully, making him someone that you’re constantly rooting for despite his flaws.

Jenna Russell as Maureen is equally as strong, and together they create a marriage that feels painfully real. Their relationship is complicated and stagnated, full of a complex history that unravels throughout the show, and the way they play off each other gives the show a real emotional anchor. For the most part they aren’t big, showy scene – they’re grounded, intimate, and all the more affecting for it. 

Passenger’s music fits the story perfectly. This isn’t your traditional musical theatre score, full of big belts and flashy numbers – although don’t get me wrong, it certainly delivers in these areas too – but something more folk-inflected and reflective. The songs are genuinely lovely, with catchy hooks and lyrics that do a lot of emotional heavy lifting without ever feeling forced.

One of the show’s smartest choices is the Balladeer, a folksy narrator who helps guide us on Harold’s journey. Noah Mullens is excellent in the role, with a voice that feels completely at home in this world. The character works as a bridge between Passenger’s folk sound and your classic musical theatre storytelling, and in the second act the Balladeer’s role deepens in some really effective ways (no spoilers here!).

The ensemble are doing some seriously impressive work throughout, particularly through the use of body-propping in the first act. They create settings, props and move in a way that feels inventive and totally immersive. It’s rare to see ensemble work used this effectively, really bringing the show to life in a way that I haven’t seen done before.

What I loved most is how members of the ensemble step forward to tell their own stories. As Harold meets people along his journey, each encounter feels distinct and meaningful. The show is filled with people from all walks of life, all dealing with things that will feel uncomfortably familiar to many audience members. There really is something here for everyone, and it drives home that message of connection with our fellow humans. A standout moment here comes in Jenna Boyd’s performance of ‘Such is Life’ as the Farmer’s Wife, which is a masterclass in storytelling. Through a combination of lyricism, performance, choreography, and staging, the show manages to tell a full, rich story in a just a few minutes – and it lands beautifully.

Despite tackling some heavy themes, Harold Fry is also a surprisingly joyful show. It understands the importance of connection, and it’s really good at showcasing moments of hope, kindness, and shared humanity. Those lighter touches give the more emotional moments room to breathe.

The second act delivers a genuinely beautiful conclusion, though I did find myself missing some of the levity from earlier in the show. I spent a lot of act two with a lump in my throat, and a brief emotional breather would have been welcome. That said, the emotional payoff is strong, and the story lands with real care.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry is heartfelt, thoughtful, and truly affecting. This is a show that reminds you why stories, and people, matter – and why sometimes, just choosing to believe and keep going can be enough.

This show runs until 18 April 2026 at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, London. Tickets and listing can be found here.

REVIEW: Sleeping Beauty


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A joyously reimagined Sleeping Beauty that celebrates everything we love about Cambridge panto


If you want proof that pantomime is still alive, glittering, and gloriously bonkers in 2025, look no further than Sleeping Beauty at the newly refurbished Cambridge Arts Theatre. The show opened the theatre’s new auditorium on December 2nd, and it felt less like a mere production and more like a love letter to the venue, the city, and the cherished annual tradition of Cambridge panto.

As any seasoned panto-goer knows, a panto is only ever as good as its Dame. The excellent news? This one has a great one. Matt Crosby returns to Cambridge for his 20th year to take on the role of Nanny Nutkins, and is nothing short of sensational. He owns the stage with that hard-to-define but instantly recognisable combination of warmth, anarchy, and comic timing that separates a serviceable Dame from a legendary one. Crosby is no doubt the magnetic centre of this show.

But panto thrives on ensemble energy, and Sleeping Beauty has it in abundance. Steven Roberts as Happy Harry is a particular joy. Roberts has that rare talent for making every appearance feel like a burst of serotonin – his enthusiasm is infectious, his jokes land with satisfying predictability, and he forges an immediate bond with the audience.

This year’s story gives us a twist on the classic tale. Princess Rose (Daisy Twells) has been forced to hide in the Cambridge Botanical Gardens until her 18th birthday, in the hope of avoiding Carabosse’s deadly curse. The villain herself, played with wicked relish by Tricia Adele-Turner, is pure pantomime evil: sharp, commanding, and every boo-hiss thoroughly earned. Adele-Turner knows exactly how to work an audience, holding her own wonderfully and grounding the story in some proper fairy-tale peril.

And then, there’s Prince Ken. In this universe, Prince Ken is created – almost as a magical insurance policy in case Rose does, in fact, prick her finger. Joseph Hewlett attacks the role with smouldering, slightly unhinged delight. His entrance, complete with a ridiculous and hilariously effective rewrite of “It’s Raining Men” into “A Prince Called Ken,” is pure cheesy genius. What begins as a comic gimmick develops into a surprisingly sweet character arc as his love for Rose helps him become a real human. Hewlett, wisely, never leans too far into sincerity; he keeps things over-the-top, charming, and just the right amount of silly.

Musically, the show strikes a perfect balance between nostalgia and contemporary chaos. There are throwback hits from S Club 7 and Take That that send the “young(ish)” portion of the audience down memory lane, while newer tracks like “Apt” and “I’m Just Ken” keep things fresh for younger theatre-goers. The blend isn’t subtle – but nothing about panto ever is. It should be loud, recognisable, and full of surprises, and this soundtrack delivers exactly that. And threaded between the musical numbers are jokes that blessedly soar straight over the heads of the children while landing squarely (and sometimes crudely) in the laps of the adults. For this young(ish) viewer, those cheeky winks and barely disguised innuendos were a particular delight, adding an extra layer of mischievous sparkle to the evening.

The sets are colourful homages to Cambridge itself, through bright interpretations of the city. There’s a warmth in seeing Cambridge reimagined through a panto lens: exaggerated, sparkly, and full of whimsy.

And truly, this production feels stitched together with community spirit. Before the show, the theatre’s CEOs spoke with genuine warmth about the venue’s history and future, and that sense of pride and affection seems to reverberate through every element of the evening. From the cast on stage to the box-office team and the cheerful, glittery staff behind the bar, the whole building seemed to glow with panto joy. It’s rare to feel such a collective sense of celebration within a theatre’s walls, but this performance manages it.

Ultimately, this panto is the best kind of family show – it’s chaotic, affectionate, and confidently silly. If this is how the newly refurbished Cambridge Arts Theatre begins its next chapter, then the future looks very bright indeed.

REVIEW: The Nutcracker at the Birmingham Hippodrome


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Birmingham Royal Ballet’s Nutcracker is pure festive joy: captivating, magical, and timeless


There are some festive traditions that feel almost synonymous with the season, and The Nutcracker is undoubtedly one of them. Yet despite its iconic status, this was my first time experiencing it live. Arriving at the Birmingham Hippodrome, I expected magic – and the performance delivered it wholeheartedly.

For those new to the story: The Nutcracker follows Clara, a young girl who receives a wooden nutcracker doll from the enigmatic magician Drosselmeyer at her family’s Christmas Eve party. Later that night, she sneaks downstairs and discovers her living room transformed. Her beloved nutcracker springs to life, leading a battle against the fearsome Rat King, before sweeping Clara into a dreamlike realm of swirling snowflakes – and, of course, dancing. It’s a tale full of wonder, imagination, and innocence: the perfect recipe for a Christmas classic.

For me, the standout triumph of this production was the set design. Birmingham Royal Ballet has a long-standing reputation for impressive staging, but this year’s performance felt particularly transportive. The transformation scene, where Clara appears to shrink (or perhaps her living room grows) was utterly breathtaking. The second act then unfolded into a series of exquisite tableaus, each more beautiful than the last. Every transition was seamless and every detail carefully considered. This was staging that didn’t simply support the story, it elevated it into something truly magical.

The costumes were equally stunning, each crafted with the kind of detail that makes characters feel fully alive. The Sugar Plum Fairy looked as though she had stepped straight out of an ornate snow globe, all delicate sparkle and elegance. The toys brought to life were delightfully eccentric, leaning into the fun, slightly surreal tone of Clara’s dream world. And then there was the Rat King – a menacing, theatrical delight who, I suspect, was the element that won over my boyfriend. Up until that point, his appreciation of ballet had never stretched far beyond Billy Elliot, yet at the interval he turned to me and declared, “I think I love The Nutcracker.” If that isn’t proof of the show’s broad appeal, I don’t know what is.

As for the dancing itself, it was everything you hope to see when watching performers at the absolute top of their craft. Every movement was crisp, expressive, and filled with beautiful musicality. The Grand Pas de Deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier was a particular highlight, deserving of all the rapturous applause it received. It’s a privilege to witness dancers of this calibre performing such iconic choreography.

One of the loveliest parts of the evening, though, was the atmosphere in the room. The Nutcracker is famously a family favourite, and it was impossible not to be moved by the mix of generations watching together. There is something wonderfully universal about this ballet: whether you’re six, sixty, or like me, a young(ish) adult seeing it for the first time, it welcomes you in with open arms.

By the time the performers took their final bows, the Hippodrome was buzzing with a definite festive glow. This production doesn’t simply retell a classic story; it invites the audience into an entire world of enchantment through its breathtaking staging, exquisite costumes, and world-class dancing. It’s a powerful reminder of how, and why, ballet has endured across generations.

For first-timers like me, seasoned fans, families of every shape and size – and even the previously ballet-sceptical – Birmingham Royal Ballet’s Nutcracker is pure festive joy: captivating, magical, and timeless.

REVIEW: Handle With Care


Rating: 2 out of 5.

A mysterious, unpredictable and silly social experiment that’s as reliant on its audience as it is determined to surprise them


If you arrive at Handle with Care expecting a traditional piece of theatre – lights down, full cast, and the audience politely and quietly observing from the safety of their seats – you may be thrown slightly (or entirely) off-balance. Ontroerend Goed call the piece a theatre performance, but it’s closer to an interactive social experiment – one-part guided experience, one-part group psychology exercise, and one-part ‘what on earth is going on and why am I suddenly on a stage reading from a script I didn’t know I’d agreed to?’

What makes Handle with Care such a challenge to describe, and even harder to review, is that the show is wholly shaped by the audience. There is a structure, and a sense of direction, but there is no fixed version of the show, and certainly no universal experience. The personalities within the group massively impact the direction of the show – which means that my version of the experience is not only unique, but entirely irreplicable. Any reviewer describing their experience can only offer one possible version, and in my case, I suspect that my experience was heavily impacted by the fact that I went alone.

My group consisted of about 20 people, the large majority of whom already knew each other. They arrived buzzing, comfortable and immediately familiar in a way that really influenced the direction of the show. Whilst Handle with Care doesn’t require you to attend with someone else – and the group was perfectly friendly and welcoming – your enjoyment is undeniably shaped by the group dynamic, and being surrounded by a per-existing social circle made it difficult to get involved in quite the same way. Whilst the experience didn’t resonate with me personally, I can easily imagine that going with friends would shift the whole thing into something more silly and joyful.

Because this is a show that’s best experienced with minimal prior knowledge, I won’t go into much detail about the structure or ‘plot’ (a word that applies here only in the loosest sense). The gist is this: you arrive at the theatre and there’s no actors, no technicians – just a box in the middle of the stage, and an excited audience. Control is then handed over to the attendees – to open the box and react to the contents. 

An important thing to be aware of is that the show’s marketing suggests that you can choose your level of participation, whereas in reality it’s expected that everyone should get involved at least a little. Nobody sits comfortably on the sidelines. Our whole group found ourselves on stage multiple times – sometimes en masse, sometimes individually, sometimes reading from scripts, sometimes performing small solo tasks. At one point I even found myself having to swap an item of clothing with a stranger. If the thought of reading aloud in front of strangers, being silly on demand, or participating in playful group tasks fills you with dread, this might not be the show for you. I managed it, but I was very aware of being ‘the lone attendee’, which did slightly dampen the fun.

The most fascinating aspect of Handle with Care is its life beyond this performance. The show has taken place in cities across multiple countries, and we were reminded that our strange little hour was just one in a long chain of similar-yet-different experiences, each shaped by the specific quirks of the people involved. There’s an undeniable thematic thread of community, humanity and the idea of ‘connection’ running throughout the piece. I could see it clearly, even if the intended emotional punch didn’t quite land for me.

Even with my mild reservations, I would still recommend the experience to anyone curious. Handle with Care is surprising from start to finish, and despite not personally connecting with it as deeply as the show intended, I was genuinely intrigued by how the mix of personalities steered the show. Watching who stepped forward, who held back, who stirred the pot – all of that was compelling in a way that a scripted show could never be.Is it for everyone? Absolutely not. If the idea of being silly on a stage in front of strangers makes you cringe, you might find the hour more stressful than exciting. But if you’re someone who enjoys being on stage, likes to be surprised, and watches a show like Taskmaster and thinks they’d love to have a go, then Handle with Care might be exactly your kind of experience. And if you bring along a few friends, you might leave with a story you’ll be talking about for weeks.

FEATURE: The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry – Launch Event at The Barrel Project, 28 October 2025

Earlier this week, we had the pleasure of joining fellow theatre-lovers at the launch event for the musical adaptation of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. Set to transfer to London’s West End in January 2026, the production promises to be something profoundly human and full of heart.

The story, familiar to many, follows Harold Fry – an ordinary man who embarks on an extraordinary journey on foot across the UK after he receives a message from his old friend Queenie. Meanwhile, his wife Maureen begins her own inward journey of reflection and rediscovery. With Rachel Joyce’s original novel already beloved by many for its themes of connection, second chances and, of course, love, expectations for the musical adaptation are understandably high. But after hearing about its sold-out run at the Chichester Festival Theatre, and experiencing the palpable excitement in the room at this week’s launch, I have high hopes that the show will strike a chord which it opens at the Theatre Roal Haymarket in January.

The launch was held at The Barrel Project, a delightfully quirky venue, complete with barrel-lined walls and beers renamed in honour of Harold Fry’s pilgrimage. Host Gaby Roslin set the tone perfectly, describing the musical as “the show we all need right now”, before handing the microphone to indie musician Passenger, who has written the show’s score as his first foray into the world of musical theatre. He performed ‘Keep on Walking Mr Fry’, a moving glimpse of what’s to come – intimate and emotional storytelling.

We also heard from Mark Addy, who brings Harold Fry himself to life onstage, and from author Rachel Joyce, who spoke about why this story continues to resonate so deeply with audiences. A surprise highlight was meeting the show’s four-legged scene-stealer – an impressive puppet simply named Dog, brought to life by puppeteer Timo Tatzbur. Finally came the exciting announcement that Noah Mullins will make his West End debut, playing the role of The Balladeer – a narrator-like figure guiding the story. Mullins marked the occasion with two wonderful performances, including the show’s closing number ‘One for the Road’. All the songs we were treated to merge Passenger’s lyrical, folk-infused flare for songwriting with the emotional storytelling of musical theatre.

I’ll always love a bit of West End razzle-dazzle, but I’m equally drawn to theatre that feels more relevant and honest, and The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry looks set to deliver exactly that. The songs we heard were heartfelt and catchy, and the way that the creative team soke about the project radiated pride and excitement. 

So, if you find yourself in London in early 2026 and you’re looking for a show with ambition, warmth, and a lot of heart, make sure to mark your calendar for this one. I know I will be.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry will be performing at the Theatre Royal Haymarket from 29 January – 18 April 2026. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Lightning Boy


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A mythological tale for the modern age, Lightning Boy is a bolt of musical joy



NYMT’s Lightning Boy made its world premiere at the Birmingham Hippodrome on Thursday 21st August, reimagining the myth of Zeus as a coming-of-age musical. The show follows 16 year-old Zeus (played by Toby Mocrei) as he works at the Sky High Diner on Mount Olympus and dreams of a life outside the diner – and a life with his human childhood sweetheart, Io (played by Lizzie Wells). Written by Charlie Turner and Liv Warden, it’s a fresh, modernised take on ancient mythology, and from start to finish feels like a neon-soaked mythological remix, swapping scrolls and temples for milkshakes and teenage angst.

The show did hit a small snag early on – a tech hiccup meant a restart partway through the opening number. While it momentarily broke the spell, the young cast handled it with such professionalism that it became a testament to their talent, rather than a detraction. From that point on, everything ran near-seamlessly.

It’s exciting to see a NYMT production because you know that you’re witnessing the early steps of some major careers in the making – but this cast in particularly feel electric. Mocrei leads the show impressively – particularly in the group dance numbers, where he really shines. His Zeus is relatable and endearing, and we have no doubt that we’ll continue to see him on even bigger stages soon.

Joseph Firth’s laid back, flamboyant Poseidon is pure comedic charm, a perfect juxtaposition to Quentin Ballard’s angsty, brooding Hades. Speaking of Hades – wow. His solo number, God Awful, is a thunderous vocal showcase, and one of the show’s most memorable moments. 

My personal highlight was Hera’s number, I’ll Be Your Dream, which Amy-Pearl Watt performs beautifully. It’s a gentle, harmony-rich moment of the show that still hasn’t left my head. Watt absolutely nails it, and she was a real standout in the show.

The score is full of earworms, the sort of songs that you immediately want to hear again. As I found myself frantically scrolling through Instagram and Tiktok the next day, hunting for clips, I was reminded of how rare that feeling is – the kind of musical magic that can make someone fall in love with theatre.

All of the group numbers were a consistent high point, packed with sharp choreography and real ensemble cohesion. The Olympians set the bar high with All Hands On Deck in Act 1, and Poseidon leads a high-energy, gleeful number in Come On In (The Waters Fine), filled with charisma and sass. The Act 1 finale, Lightning, is the show-stopper, filled with thunder, lightning and drama. 

Lightning Boy never pretends to be your classic Greek tragedy: it’s a joyful, popified spectacular, filled with heart. From the set, to the choreography, to the score – and of course, the outstanding cast – it’s a show that delivers with confidence, charm, and a whole lot of fun. A mythological tale for the modern age, and one I’ll gladly watch again, first chance I get.


REVIEW: The Diana Mixtape


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Part jukebox musical, part drag show – The Diana Mixtape is outrageous, camp, chaos.


A drag queen extravaganza celebrating one of the world’s most iconic royal figures, The Diana Mixtape is a glittering whirlwind of pop anthems, humour and outrageous performances. The show is a celebration of Diana, her rise to fame, and her tumultuous relationship with Prince Charles – all set to a soundtrack of some of the biggest pop hits of the 21st Century. The show also plays homage to some of Diana’s most well-recognised outfits – including, of course, the iconic ‘revenge’ dress… with a few extra sequins here and there, for good measure. Created by Christopher D Clegg, it’s chaotic, campy, and utterly unpredictable.

At the heart of the show is, of course, the astonishing drag talent. Courtney Act, Divina De Campo, Priyanka, Rosé, and Kitty Scott-Claus all take turns embodying the people’s princess, and each brings their own flair to the role. Whether it’s Priyanka’s dramatic take on Lady Gaga’s ‘Paparazzi’ or Courtney Act’s perfectly sassy rendition of Demi Lovato’s ‘Sorry Not Sorry’, each Queen adds something unique. 

The standout of the night was Rosé. It’s easy for the show’s high-energy, campy vibe to overshadow more emotional performances, but Rosé’s performances of Jade’s ‘Angel of My Dreams’ and Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘Vampire’ were beautiful moments that showcased her skills as a vocalist and a performer. She has a way of blending powerful vocals with a kind of vulnerability that’s a real joy, especially in a show as loud and brash as this one. 

The show doesn’t just rely on the drag queens for its appeal; Tony Award-nominee Keala Settle and Noel Sullivan bring a touch of surprising chaos to their roles as Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Charles, respectively. Settle, as the Queen, steals the show – a feat, when you’re up against five real (drag) queens. Her performances were some of the most memorable of the night, in her renditions of Kelly Rowland’s ‘Commander’ and Meghan Trainor’s ‘Mother’. Sullivan’s portrayal of Charles is equally hilarious, and he clearly relishes every moment on stage. Lucinda Lawrence as Camilla leant into the role of panto-villain, and her duets with Sullivan, to Katy Perry’s ‘The One That Got Away’ and Dua Lipa’s ‘Physical’, left the crowd roaring.

Where the show faltered slightly was in its technical execution. The sound mixing could have used some fine-tuning; microphones were at times unbalanced, changing volume mid-song, and the spotlight often seemed to be missing. But these imperfections don’t detract from the overall experience. In fact, the chaotic nature of The Diana Mixtape is a part of its charm. It’s raw, loud and messy in the best possible way, and it’s a show that embraces its imperfections – and when you lean into the madness, you find yourself swept up in it. Some of the staging left a little to be desired, made up primarily of a few trunks on wheels, and we did point out at one point that a sequence using torches was very reminiscent of a GCSE drama performance. But the queens had such an electric stage presence that the limited set design was hardly noticeable.

Is The Diana Mixtape a perfect show? Not quite – and I imagine that it will be a divisive one. But is it a show that you’ll remember? Absolutely. It’s not your typical jukebox musical, and honestly it was quite refreshing. The audience is encouraged to participate – sing, dance, take photos – and at one point Priyanka could be seen pouring prosecco into an audience member’s mouth. For seasoned theatre-goers, the Princess Pit and Royal Mezzanine standing-sections might be a bit of a shock – for most of the show it felt more like I was at a club night or a concert. But embrace the party atmosphere, and it’s an experience like no other. The audience was as much a part of the experience as they were spectators to it.

At its core, The Diana Mixtape is about celebrating someone who, in her own way, broke free of convention and faced challenges with grace, humour and resilience – and a little bit of sass. The show, though messy at times, captures this spirit through its heart, humour, and over-the-top camp. 

REVIEW: London City Ballet: Momentum


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Momentum delivers a stunning showcase of technical precision, storytelling and musicality.

Full disclosure: this was my first time seeing professional live ballet. I took dance lessons as a child, so I’ve sat through my fair share of showcases featuring nervous tweens stumbling their way across the stage, but it feels almost insulting to even consider comparing those wobbly pirouettes to the calibre of performance by London City Ballet at the Birmingham Rep.

Their latest touring programme, Momentum, delivers four distinct pieces, each choreographically and emotionally rich. It’s a quadruple bill that showcases both the breadth and depth of ballet as a true artform – and by and large, it works beautifully.

We open with Haieff Divertimento, a classical piece choreographed by Balanchine. Light and romantic, it sets the bar high. The dancers move with clarity and grace – it’s a soft entry point for anyone new to ballet, like me, but with enough discipline and precision to still draw in the more seasoned viewer.

Next up is Consolations and Liebestraum by Liam Scarlett, where the evening’s performance really begins to develop emotionally. The piece charts the arc of a relationship from hopeful beginning to aching heartbreak, and the choreography is visual poetry.

For me, the highlight of the evening was the next piece, Soft Shore by Florent Melac. A moody, tender piece that’s choreographed in such a way that the dancers move almost like liquid, the movements were emotive and evocative. 

After the interval comes Pictures at an Exhibition, choreographed by Alexei Ratmansky. A show-stopping finale, this piece bursts with colour and character as the dancers reimagine Kandinsky’s paintings through bold movement to Mussorgsky’s score. It’s a patchwork piece made up of solos, duets and group performances, weaving between moments that are brash, then haunting, then whimsical – but always joyful. The addition of the Ukrainian flag at the end – by Ratmansky, who grew up in Kiev – is a tribute which quickly transitions the piece from a place of wonder into a stark reality, and creates a truly impactful ending to the show.

Of course, the presence of Alina Cojocaru is a draw in itself, and she delivers a true masterclass in technique and poise. But despite the star-power of the performance, this is by no means a one-woman show – the entire company is phenomenal. 

My one criticism is in the cohesion of the overall programme. The first half builds a tender, emotionally resonant atmosphere through each of the three pieces, and the second half feels very juxtaposed, flinging us into something much more vibrant and theatrical. Each piece is beautiful in its own right, but as a collective Momentum occasionally felt like it was lacking a throughline. Still, there’s something exciting about that diversity – the pieces form a true showcase of what ballet can be. Perhaps that’s the throughline: the way in which ballet truly is art, in every sense of the word.As someone new to the world of ballet, I left feeling genuinely moved – not just by the technique (although that alone is jaw-dropping), but by the incredible storytelling and musicality of the performance. Ballet is one of the most technical and precise art forms, and yet despite its long history Momentum felt somehow contemporary, modern and fresh – all whilst still in keeping with the timelessness and tradition of classical ballet.

The London City Ballet continue their tour across the UK and mainland Europe this year. Tickets are available here.

FEATURE: The Original Jerk Cookout

A vibrant feast of food, flavour and community

Summer in London is a beautiful thing (when it decides to show up), and there’s no better way to enjoy it than with great food, good music and even better company. From 25th-27th July, The Original Jerk Cookout took over Woolwich Works, and I had the pleasure of attending the Saturday session – part food festival, part cultural celebration, all heart.

The cookout created an unbeatable energy, with kids bouncing around on inflatables and the smell of jerk filling the venue. This wasn’t just a food event, it was a love letter to Caribbean culture. 

Naturally the food was the star of the show, and I made it my mission to sample as much as I could. Kicking things off with a chicken patty from Port Royal Patties, the bar was set high. Next up, Taste Soul Good, where I enjoyed an extremely generous helping of jerk chicken, curry goat and fried plantain. From there, PK Spices delivered a heaping plate of ackee and saltfish with dumplings, before I returned to G&G Jamrock Kitchen for, of course, yet more jerk chicken. Finally, I managed to squeeze in a banana carrot cake from Connie’s Cake – one which I’ll be thinking about daily.

Despite stretching my own stomach to its limits, I couldn’t help but admire the range of other food vendors who also brought their A-game to the event: Kingston Seven, Mommy’s Kitchen, Cummin Up, NS Catering and Caribbean Hut. All of them filled the venue with the most delicious smells and sights, I wished I’d had room for more! And for those seeking plant-based goodness, Global Fusion Vegan Creole ensured that any vegans in attendance didn’t miss out on the delicious fun.

Beyond the food (and drink – thank you Woolwich Works for the delicious rum punch), the day also offered moments of calm, culture and connection. The book club provided space to reflect and engage with Caribbean literature, and stalls selling everything from jerk sauce to skincare to tarot readings brought a cheery, marketplace energy. And live music was the heartbeat of the event, keeping the vibe dialled right up from start to finish.

The Original Jerk Cookout wasn’t just a celebration of food, but of community. Inclusive, vibrant, and welcoming, and creating a perfect day out for the whole family.