REVIEW: Stayin Alive


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Seamless blend of comedy and sincerity with fantastic script and performances, but other elements felt underused or clunky


‘Stayin Alive’ has now concluded its two-night run at the lovely 53Two in Manchester. Victoria Oxley, the writer, stars as Maggie, who is grieving the death of her nan. Emma Bispham is Maggie’s therapist Rob, her sister, and her estranged mum, as well as a series of pub tribute acts with amusing names. The acting is brilliant, particularly the physicality of the performances. Emma Bispham is great at distinguishing between her different characters, who give the play its layers, its complexity.

Victoria Oxley shows just as much versatility in her role, switching from playful 4th-wall-breaking and physical comedy to intense depictions of panic attacks and breakdowns. The scene where Maggie begs the audience to leave in the middle of a panic attack is one of the best moments. It was disconcerting and unexpected, totally original, but also built on the earlier comedic interactions with the audience.

‘Stayin Alive’ effortlessly changes between moods throughout, one of the major strengths of the play. The audience were always either laughing or gasping; everyone was clearly immersed. Repeatedly, it establishes a comedic atmosphere before quickly bringing the audience back down by returning to the serious themes being explored- mental illness, grief, abuse- and the contrast is very effective. It wouldn’t work if the play wasn’t hilarious and it wouldn’t work if its sincere side was any less powerful.

At times, the script can be somewhat on-the-nose, especially when Maggie is talking to herself. Most of the time however, it’s sharp, funny, and beautiful. Victoria Oxley’s use of foreshadowing and juxtaposition is fantastic. 

Some of the transitions between scenes could be more fluid, but the fast-paced ‘Stayin’ Alive’ is never boring, always entertaining.

The subtle set design, using different props to create different environments simultaneously, was a personal highlight. The urn, the records that belonged to Maggie’s nan, the chairs, the bar stools and tables all come together to make a world that feels lived in.

Talking of those records, the soundtrack being used to show Maggie’s grief as well as to establish the setting is a great touch. The way the different songs by the tribute acts are used to tie into the narrative, setting, and characterisation mean none of them distract from the story, which they very easily could have.

The rest of the music, however, felt clunkier, coming out of nowhere without adding much. The lighting, similarly, could have been utilised a lot more. That said, the way it focuses attention onto Maggie during the scene where she sings in the pub is enjoyable. Perhaps using it more would have weakened the other aspects of the play. It was never bad, but like the non-diegetic music, it felt like it could have been used more effectively.

Overall, ‘Stayin Alive’ is a very strong piece of theatre, and with some refining of the design elements, it could be perfect.

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REVIEW: Shaun the Sheep’s Circus Show


Rating: 4 out of 5.

playful, impressive, and very enjoyable, but some unnecessary or overused aspects 


The first half of Yaron Lifschitz’s Shaun the Sheep’s Circus Show is structured episodically, with short and fast-paced sketches about each of the characters. Up to the interval, there’s a distinct focus on physical comedy and prop-based gags. I particularly enjoyed the slapstick violence, like the farmer falling over and slipping off the stage, a sheep being run over by a tyre, people turning round and accidentally hitting each other with things like seesaws or pig’s troughs- a slapstick classic!

The performers were all great, especially their ability to portray emotions through, essentially, nothing but animal noises and gibberish. The synchronisation was always really impressive, and some moments made me wonder how they were even doing them.

   The scene with Timmy and his mum was a tender moment of emotional contrast, and used audience interaction neatly; I also enjoyed the opening routine with the Farmer building up to the flock appearing.

The puns on the billboard screen were all funny, and I thought the paper plane prop becoming part of the animations and then going back to being a prop was great, but for the rest of the first half it felt like the screen wasn’t really used in any meaningful way.

I loved Jethro Woodward’s music, which switched between energetic, bouncier pieces (calling to mind a mix of mid-period Stereolab and club music) as well as more beautiful and tenser, more dramatic ones. I really liked some of the other audio motifs, in particular the use of the theme tune, although the lightbulb idea sound effect felt overused by the end of the show.

The lighting- designed by Jason Organ- often functions as a subtle contrast with the heightened performances and music. The cuts to black in the sequence with the dog and the postman are very effective at breaking up and subverting the episodic structure, previously reinforced by the lighting. 

Similarly, the Bull felt especially powerful and intimidating when it first appeared, as the only part of the first half that interrupted the character-based structure of the different sketches. Unfortunately, this is lost in its reappearance after the interval, when it’s lost in all the other elements onstage.

In a lot of ways, the second half of the show is completely different. More focused on the overall story about the Farmer’s TV than on character-based sketches, it feels like much more of a full circus show than a piece of physical theatre, with almost all of the classic circus acts coming after the interval. This meant that the show felt unbalanced. For me, the pig trapeze and the first half of the juggling routine could easily have been moved to the first half. Because of this imbalance, I kept feeling in the first half like I was waiting for a spectacle that just didn’t come.

In the second half, the billboard, used to show the live facial expressions of all the performers, felt overused. The performers were constantly performing to the screen instead of the audience, making it distracting and unnecessary. The video game sketch with the billboard was also essentially repeated immediately afterwards by the performers.

The circus costumes at the start of the second half were gorgeous, but the brown tracksuits at the end felt a little out of place, as if they’d come from nowhere. I loved the hats and wigs representing the different characters. 

I wish the performers had interacted with the stage more, especially with all the different levels, or maybe used elements of the set such as the billboard in physical ways, not just for the videos and animations. 

Instead there was a focus on prop-based comedy, which was always entertaining, but the best moments were consistently when the performers used the stage to their advantage: rolling down the hill, the house being used as a hat, and the sequence with the dog chasing the postman.

The glow-in-the-dark juggling and hula hooping- another example of routines which used the stage to their advantage being the best ones- looked brilliant, but admittedly did peter out. This was also my feeling about the show overall: very visually impressive, but with an ending that felt a bit weak. Saying it was anti-climactic is maybe too harsh, but I thought the end of the first half was more impressive than the grand finale. 


REVIEW: The Thing With Feathers


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Great performances and dialogue but end-of-the-world framing feels unnecessary to tell the intimate story that makes up the best parts of the play 


‘The Thing With Feathers’ explores the lives of Emily and Sue, a poet and artist who have been married to each other for 60 years. Its episodic structure alternates between their younger and older selves, allowing us to see their personalities and their relationship changing over time. ‘The Thing With Feathers’ is a short play, a series of snapshots into different moments in the couple’s lives. We see the two of them trying to get over creative blocks, their wedding, the moment they move into their house together etc

The staging really brings the us into the characters’ world, with the audience sitting on three sides around props like books, an easel, and a radio, marking out different parts of Emily and Sue’s house together. 

Over time, they withdraw from the outside world. While the script does mention that this is because of an apocalypse of some sort, with dialogue referring to the clouds disappearing and protests, it doesn’t have time to really go into the end of the world, leaving that side of the piece a little too vague. I couldn’t help but feel like the depiction of their relationship with each other and their approaching deaths didn’t actually need this framing; it would have been just as powerful a piece, if not more, without it. 

 That said, I did enjoy the ambiguities throughout. Giulia Fincato’s dialogue is smart and subtle, her characters well-written and layered.

The four actresses are easily the best part of the play, with subtle, nuanced performances- especially through their facial expressions- that are always interesting to watch. As the performers interact more and more throughout the play, it gets better and better. The increasing interaction between the different settings is an interesting contrast with the increasing isolation of the characters, reinforced by the lighting and music.

My favourite scene was when all four performers were on stage at the same time in a split-screen style. I also thought the various tender moments between the characters (whichever age) were lovely, and I loved watching their chemistry together. That’s when ‘The Thing With Feathers’ is at its most focused best.

REVIEW: Sunny Afternoon


Rating: 3 out of 5.

Good fun, great songs, and interesting but cheesy


This new tour of Sunny Afternoon celebrates the raw energy, passion and timeless sound of one of Britain’s most iconic bands, THE KINKS. Charting the euphoric highs and agonising lows, it tells their story through an incredible back catalogue of chart-toppers.  

The musicians and singers are all very good performers, and it’s always good to see them rocking out as well as performing some Kinks songs acapella (‘Days’) and showing off their harmonising skills. Danny Horn makes a very good Ray Davies throughout.

Admittedly, although I already liked their music, I didn’t know much about their background or history. Would I have found ‘Sunny Afternoon’ boring if I knew more? Would anyone who’s not a Kinks fan enjoy this? Does it even appeal to Kinks super fans, who presumably know all this stuff and might prefer to just listen to them at home?

I’m not sure, but for me at least, it was interesting to learn about where The Kinks came from, to place them in their historical context, and see how their working class status defined them in their interactions with the music industry and upper classes. I also liked how the play explored the impact of being in a band on the members and their families, especially Lisa Wright’s Rasa. Moments such as this might make ‘Sunny Afternoon’ appeal to people who aren’t already lovers of The Kinks.

The start of the piece left me cold, which didn’t make me hopeful. The continuous teasing of the ‘You Really Got Me’ riff and vocals meant that some of the impact was lost when they finally played it in the middle of the first half. Some moments, such as Ray Davies attacking his speaker cone, were stretched out for too long.

Once it got going I began to really enjoy it, especially the end of the first half and the start of the second, particularly when they were showing the tensions within the band. The moments of out-and-out spectacle were my favourite parts. Oliver Hoare looks great swinging from a chandelier in a dress and covered in lipstick. Watching the band members punch each other up was always exciting. The period costumes and sets were gorgeous throughout. I really liked the scene showing England winning the World Cup, with various actors coming down into the audience to celebrate, although this technique was overused throughout the piece. 

‘Sunny Afternoon’ is surprisingly funny, with several clever references to contemporary pop culture as well as some good comedy, both physical and verbal.

I thought the end was a little too cheesy, with everyone told to stand up, clap, and wave their arms in the air. That said, I did enjoy the final encore medley of hits built around ‘Lola,’ which I thought for a moment they weren’t going to include even though it’s on the poster. 

Overall, then, ‘Sunny Afternoon’ is a fun night out, an interesting depiction of life in 60s England with, of course, lots of great songs.

REVIEW: Shaker Loops


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“Manchester Collective put on a very good show and are impressive performers”


The staging for the Manchester Collective’s performance of John Adams’ ‘Shaker Loops’ at the RNCM is very simple. Seven lights stand in a semi-circle around the collective, with eight more above them, all orange or yellow and reinforced by a cloud from the haze machine behind the performers.

In the first half of the performance, Manchester Collective play three other pieces: Dobrinka Tabakova’s ‘Such Different Paths’, Kaija Saariaho’s ‘Terra Memoria’, and a composition by Rakhi Singh, ‘Veni Creator Spiritus’.

These opening pieces are all good, and of course played beautifully, but each one seems to fizzle out by the end, despite good moments. Furthermore, the speeches and introductions between them, despite being interesting and important, did take me out of the performance and probably could have been placed elsewhere for a bigger impact.

I particularly enjoyed the transitions between different passages and sections in ‘Such Different Paths’, along with the harmonies and interplay between the seven players. I found it easy to get lost in all the different layers, picking out different instruments and focusing on how they related to each other. 

The second piece, a pizzicato-filled ode to the dead, gradually builds up. The overhead lights are now pink, creating a softer atmosphere. The textures are more minimal, with only four members of the collective onstage. Instead of the harmonies of the first, ‘Terra Memoria’ relies on changing dynamics, with urgent moments played against more tender ones.

Between the second and third pieces, thanks to a request from a helpful audience member, the haze machine is turned off because of all the noise it was making. ‘Veni Creator Spiritus’ is based around a Latin hymn, and swells and drones accordingly and appropriately. 16 Manchester Collective performers join for this one, some of them singing as well as playing their instruments, giving it a complex texture similar to the opening piece.

‘Shaker Loops’ is easily the best piece of the four. It’s like listening to all of the best parts of the pieces from the first half, without any of the weaker moments. Its mutating rhythms are captivating and exciting, and it’s the only piece with a strong ending. All 16 players perform impressively tightly throughout. Their interactions and harmonies are beautiful. Christ Bryan’s poetry is evocative and has a strong sense of mood and place, taking listeners on a journey from industrial smog and darkness to sunlight. If anything, he’s underused. His poetry works really well with the music, and I could have listened for hours. The delivery of his final line, ‘Where beameth forever a beautiful day’, with the end of ‘Shaker Loops’, is just great.

REVIEW: A Single Man


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Ed Watson is incredible in this beautiful exploration of grief in a homophobic society.


‘A Single Man’ combines ballet with live music, exploring the protagonist George’s reaction to the death of his lover. The walls of Chiara Stephenson’s stage are cluttered with models of books, tennis racquets, a toilet, and a set of stairs. In addition, to one side is the outline of a man, and on the other the outline of a human head, on a platform in which John Grant can be found. This all serves to conjure a feeling of artificiality. The centre of the stage, in contrast, is completely empty. While this focuses attention on the performers, the audience is often distanced from them by sheets of gauze. Jonathan Watkins’ choreography which examines George’s physical, exterior life; tennis matches become erotic, voyeuristic; motel sex is elegant.

Holly Waddington’s costumes are simple but evocative, especially the more naturalistic ones. The lighting, designed by Simisola Majekodunmi, is similarly effective, the best moment when the stage is blacked out but for a row of blinding lights pointed at the audience.

Ed Watson is just incredible, especially when George is overtaken by grief or fear of his sexuality being discovered. The tensest and strangest scenes in ‘A Single Man’ are often where the ballet is most effective; elsewhere the play loses its momentum.

Despite some clunky lyrics, John Grant’s writing is as powerful as his voice, full of strong and visceral imagery- his grandness is both a strength and a weakness. Grant’s involvement and the live performance of the music, depicting George’s thoughts and feelings, are the most obvious highlight of the piece.

Throughout ‘A Single Man,’ George attempts to make contact with Grant, reaching up to touch his platform and unite his emotional and physical lives. 

 Although it never completely breaks the fourth wall, the ballet makes clear, and interesting, comparisons between George’s performance of heterosexuality in public- his car, his gym, speaking to his friends- and Watson’s performance of George. In one early song, Grant blurs the lines between what is real and metaphorical, exploring which emotions are socially acceptable and which are repressed through the lens of both grief and sexuality. ‘A Single Man’ is a strong and incisive critique of homophobia, but also a ballet which is lovely to watch and listen to.

REVIEW: Disco 2000


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Rosa Gatley’s intelligent script explores the reunion of two childhood best friends at a dinner party, Amelia and Bonnie, who are brought to life by Arabella Finch and Stella Cohen.


I didn’t know how to start this review, because it’s hard to think of anything of substance to say about a play that’s so good it leaves you in tears.

The props, lighting, music, and staging for ‘Disco 2000’ are simple. Tennis rackets, a Charlie Higson book, and clothes and toys are piled up around the stage. Two chairs sit at the centre. 

The play alternates between the past and present lives of its two protagonists, Bonnie and Amelia, and the set design allows it to slip easily from one to the other. We are introduced to Bonnie and Amelia as children, and to an older Bonnie who is about to see Amelia for the first time in fifteen years.

It feels wrong to call the scenes set in the protagonists’ childhoods flashbacks. Equal weight is given to the time spent with them as adults and as children, allowing ‘Disco 2000’ to effectively contrast the naive energy of the younger selves with the nervousness of their older ones. The play is full of these juxtapositions, deliberately jarring at first but soon smoothly switching between laughter and tears as well as between childhood and adulthood. Bonnie says she loves being in high places; Bonnie feels sick when she looks up at the Shard from her window.

This dexterity would be impossible without the incredible Arabella Finch and Stella Cohen. The two actresses are always enjoyable to watch. Their characters’ younger selves, thanks to Kitty Sharland’s smart choreography as well as their own physicality, are playful and energetic. One particularly brilliant moment involves Cohen screaming while chewing a tennis ball. 

Again, the key to the success of ‘Disco 2000’ is in its contrasts. The adult Bonnie’s imitations of her friends and boyfriend, while funny, serve to convey her frustration at the hollowness of her life just as much as the haunted expressions Finch juxtaposes them with.

The adult Amelia’s late entrance into the script perfectly mirrors Bonnie’s own experience: all she has to know Amelia by are the childhood memories that the audience has been exploring throughout the play, and suddenly they’re sat staring at each other. A door opening has never felt so tense.

Rosa Gatley’s script is funny, sharp, and often beautiful. It feels dishonest to call Amelia and Bonnie, and even Amelia’s friends, anything less than people when they feel so human; it feels wrong to even try to nitpick a play that affected me so much emotionally. ‘Disco 2000’ hits all the right notes, and I felt as if it was written for me. Asking it for explanations to its ambiguities, for answers, just seems like missing the point. The best moments in ‘Disco 2000’ are often found in its implications, in its shadows and empty spaces.

‘Disco 2000’ lives and breathes; I loved it. 

REVIEW: Gods of Salford


Rating: 3 out of 5.

“Interesting and fun but lightweight”

‘Gods of Salford’ begins before it really begins, with various cast members (25 young people from across the city) handing wheelbarrows and traffic cones to audience members to look after as they set up the stage ahead of the ‘official’ opening scene. Ironically, this is one of the exceptions to the general rule that the play is at its best when it forgets there’s an audience or when it’s more demanding of them, because of its experimental playfulness. 

A recreation of John Cooper Clarke’s ‘Chickentown’ falls flat, probably inevitable for anyone that isn’t Clarke, and having one character remind the audience how good ‘Dirty Old Town’ is while another is in the middle of singing it is a totally unnecessary waste of the faith placed in the audience that they will recognise the references being made to Salfordian history and the Ancient Greek myths being retold.

The play is often funny, with the best comedic moments coming when a member of the audience is asked to compete in a musical contest organised by the gods and in the various insults exchanged by the characters.

Gods of Salford is energetic and never boring, though the interludes, delivered in monologues, provide a curious and interesting change of pace, as well as roooting the play in its Salfordian background, in contrast to the exaggerated game-show world of the rest of the play. Jen McGinley’s set design works very well for similar reasons, grounding the play’s fantastic elements by juxtaposing them against the modern setting, through a simple construction of fences and scaffolding around the back of the Quays Theatre’s thrust stage.

But ‘Gods of Salford’ doesn’t go far enough in exploring the exploitation of the working classes it aims to centre the perspective of, or in questioning the status quo. While characters bend the rules and wording of prophecies or tasks given to them by the gods, they always remain subordinate to the gods, a decision made more questionable by the audience repeatedly being shown Zeus’s misogyny- and the arguing between Zeus and Hera, each standing among the audience, is good, tense stuff! Despite a couple of moments where the play does seem interested in challenging the system trapping its characters, it never really takes those ideas anywhere.

However, the play has clearly been very well-researched. The reference to ‘Nobody’ and the story of Odysseus is a particularly effective use of the Greek mythology, with ‘Gods of Salford’ using it to anchor the central metaphor of the characters being controlled by the gods, losing their freedom and control of their lives.

The character of Hermes is split between two actors, arguing on stage, but there’s just no reason for it, especially when the character of Janus could have been replaced with another figure from Greek mythology. Zeus’s callous smiting effectively establishes the pettiness and cruelty of the gods from the beginning of the play, but it’s a shame it isn’t shown more. The Minotaur is similarly under-utilised- it feels like more could have been made of its duel with Emily Lynch’s Thee, especially as her performance is a striking highlight.

‘Gods of Salford’ is always entertaining and often witty. Dean Fairhurst and Kieran Lucas’ composition, and Lucas’ sound design, is very effective, both the soaring score and the songs- especially the final, moving number. Making the Fates a glamorous pop trio is innovative and very successful. If only the whole play was as experimental as decisions like that, or as the opening. ‘Gods of Salford’ just isn’t as radical as it clearly wants to be, given its almost-Brechtian use of techniques like placards, turning on the house lights, and direct address- it’s very rare that the play has a fourth wall. 

Asking the audience to stand and dance at the end, therefore, feels somewhat unearned, a cheap way of getting a standing ovation for something I kept wishing would go further, despite enjoying it.