IN CONVERSATION WITH: Charlie Russell

Fanny is a comedy celebrating music, family and – at last – the work of a composer overlooked because of her sex. We sat down with Charlie Russell to discuss her upcoming role.


What drew you personally to Fanny Mendelssohn’s story, and how does stepping into her shoes change your perspective on creativity and recognition?

I’m drawn to her story because Fanny was a talented woman, full of potential, who never got to realise that potential in her own lifetime due to societal pressures and sexism, which feels deeply unjust. According to many historians, she and her family prized themselves on being funny, as well as musically gifted, and I loved the chance to play such a bright, funny and dynamic woman. I used to think that fame and recognition was a direct reflection on the quality of someone’s work. Now I can see clearly that that isn’t always the way, in many cases extremely talented people have been overlooked, throughout history and sadly this continues.

Having originated the role at The Watermill, how has your portrayal of Fanny evolved as the play comes to London?

It’s exciting to return to the role and see what else can be discovered. Calum Finlay has written a fantastic new draft. I’m exploring her relationships with her different family members even more, and looking into the ways Fanny isn’t a perfect hero. I’m also a bit better at conducting now!

Mischief is known for its anarchic comedy—how does Fanny blend that playful spirit with a story about overlooked female genius?

We’re not telling a true story of Fanny’s life. There is an excellent documentary you can watch if you’d like an accurate account, I highly recommend it. (Fanny: The Other Mendelssohn) We’re telling the ‘what if’ story. ‘What if’ she had the chance to grasp power and agency in her life. ‘What if’ she’d gone on an adventure and realised her dreams. And what’s more anarchic than that? That style of comedy suits the play really well. It’s in this world, this imagined world, that we can employ fantastical ideas, surreal and silly moments, and even moments of farce to best take her on this adventure.

What excites you most about the “Noble Call,” and how do you see it extending Fanny’s legacy beyond the play itself?


It’s a brilliant idea from our director, Katie-Ann McDonough, based on an Irish tradition. Katie-Ann felt that one of the best ways to honour a talented musical woman, who’d had no platform, was to extend a platform to women musicians now. It is also a way to honour our insanely talented MD, Yshani Perinpanayagam who has given so much to the production. 

Both Fanny, her mother Lea and Fanny’s sister Rebecca were known for hosting parties where musicians were given the chance to play and share their work. So really, we’re just carrying on that Mendelssohn legacy. If you come and see the play, perhaps you’ll catch the next Fanny, the next Yshani, in the making!

As both performer and Creative Associate, how do you balance your artistic instincts with shaping the production more broadly?

Working with Katie-Ann and Calum is really special. They have such a clear vision for the show, but they’re also inherently collaborative artists. Prior to rehearsal I collaborate with them on the script as a Creative, for example giving my thoughts on the story, or comedy beats. If we’re in rehearsal, working on the play then my work takes on that of an actor, developing the roles and the relationships with the other characters. I’m looking at how to best serve the play and the direction. With my Mischief experience I do have an eye on the play as a whole, and then am able to feed back to the other Creatives any thoughts or ideas I’ve had. Sometimes it’s just for a specific comedic moment, or it might be something more applicable to the play in general. But everyone’s ideas and input is welcome, Katie-Ann creates a very creative room to work in!

Fanny imagines a “what if” moment in history—what do you think theatre uniquely offers in reimagining voices that were once silenced?

I think theatre can bring alive stories in a very dynamic way. Theatre is inherently magical – we ask one group of people to sit in a room and watch another group of people pretend to be other people, right in front of them! As theatre makers we ask audiences to imagine battles, balls, magical lands, Queens, fairies, spies – we ask them to believe that people break out into song and dance, or turn into donkeys, or fly on broomsticks. When you understand that the only limits are that of our imagination, then the possibilities are endless. We can take these people from history and give them an imagined story, one that can celebrate and serve them. One that can even give them a whole new story… I like to think we give Fanny an adventure she would have relished. She deserved one.

Fanny plays at King’s Head Theatre until 15th November. Tickets are available here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Alex Constantinidi and Mathilda Parker-Craig

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Alex Constantinidi, playwright behind Doomscroll Till I Die, and producer, Mathilda Parker-Craig, running at the Pleasance Theatre from 23-27th September. Tickets here.


The title alone is striking. What does “DOOMSCROLL TILL I DIE” mean to each of you, and how did it shape the show’s concept?

Alex: To me it encapsulates that feeling where you don’t stop scrolling. When being on your phone feels better than being present or alone with your thoughts. We wanted to create a world in which you feel like you are really inside your phone and experiencing all the obsession, beauty and chaos that comes with that.

Mathilda: When I first heard the title, it was like a slap in the face. Not to sound too dramatic but when I’m hooked into, what I’ve heard it be called, Valium-with-a-plug, it feels like I’m opting out of life. When fear, or simply the daily realisation that I’m alive and conscious land with a thud and I reach for the phone.

In an attempt to feel less, we undoubtedly end up feeling more, seeing things we’re not supposed to be seeing. Like in the Matrix, we don’t realise it is fake, until we unplug. Experiencing Doomscrolling on stage, an actually social media, is the trippy-metafictional-whiplash type commentary I love in theatre. 

This is part of the new Opportunities for Actors Programme. How did the programme influence your approach to casting and developing new talent?

Alex: As this is our debut show, we wanted to choose acting graduates from the same year from the same drama school. This meant we started with an ensemble that was comfortable with each other which was really helpful for the short devising time frame (10 days!). We also tried to choose actors that had left school unrepresented and who we thought might benefit from the opportunity of being in a professional show.

Mathilda: When I left uni, I applied to dozens of jobs, each time being told that I didn’t have enough experience. I started producing shows and I realised it was much the same, or worse, for those in the arts. Getting booked straight after drama school is a huge win in the mental battle of a freelance artist. As Alex has said, forming a cast with existing chemistry was really important for the debut rendition. Having said that, we have exciting plans to expand casting to drama schools across London in future renditions; the more opportunities we can create the better.

What’s been the most surprising or challenging moment in bringing such an “episodic cabaret of crisis” to life on stage?

Alex: The time frame of 10 days has definitely been a challenge! However it’s been really fun piecing it all together in a kind of chaotic frenzy and quickly finding the best and simplest way to express everything; but honestly, the rehearsals have been an absolute joy.

Mathilda: I was in rehearsals this week, the energy, creativity and excitement you get from fresh graduates is electrifying. The devised-cabaret style performance works so well with the snappy short form online content it emulates. 

The show promises outrageous comedy and shocking stories. Can you share a rehearsal or performance moment that perfectly captures that spirit?

Alex: I won’t say too much but there is a phenomenal lip-sync performance to Dean Town by Vulfpeck.

Mathilda: Listen to the song ^, then imagine the lipsync in your mind, then picture me cry-laughing in rehearsals. Even on the eighth time around. 

For audiences who spend too much time doomscrolling themselves, what do you hope they’ll feel or rethink after experiencing this production?

Taking Doomscrolling out of the online context and putting it on the stage, only highlights the absurdity of our modern practices. One doesn’t create something out of the Doomscroll, but rather descends into it. 

What would you create if you weren’t Doomscrolling?

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Atri Banerjee and David Finnigan

The Gate Theatre presents the European premiere of David Finnigan’s Scenes from the Climate Era. Four performers take us through a dizzying series of vignettes, packed with humour and heart, all tackling the biggest story of our time.  Directed by Atri Banerjee this is an unflinchingly raw, funny and honest look at how the conversations around the climate crisis shape our everyday lives, our communities and the biological world around us.  

Scenes from the Climate Era runs at the Playground theatre on Tuesday 23 Sept to Sat 25 October. Tickets here: https://www.gatetheatre.co.uk/book-online/SCENESCLIMATE/


Director Atri Banerjee

The play captures the dizzying range of climate conversations — what do you hope audiences will feel when they step into that whirlwind?

Atri Banerjee (AB): There’s a risk with theatre about the climate – or indeed, any theatre about any important “issue” – that it can feel a bit like you’re being asked to “eat your vegetables”. It’s going to be worthy, and important, but not necessarily that fun. I think it’s why people can sometimes turn off, and why theatre about climate change is hard to make.

What I hope is that audiences feel entertained by our show. It’s got a sly sense of humour and sometimes feels like a revue: you never stay with one conversation for too long, and instead you’re met with a great buffet of characters, settings, even theatrical styles. The show is intellectually rigorous but it appeals to the heart first and foremost. And existing in the whirlwind will be an exciting experience.

Humour sits alongside grief and despair in the piece — why was it important to include levity when tackling something as urgent as the climate crisis?

David Finnigan (DF): You know, I’m not sure I ever sat down and asked myself ‘what is important’ to include in this piece. I wanted to write about some of the wildest and most extraordinary stories currently unfolding in the climate space in the 2020s, the things that make my head spin and my eyes widen. And it happens that a lot of what is unfolding in the climate world is funny. Maybe because we’re humans, and we’re a fundamentally ridiculous species?

Theatre often thrives on intimacy and immediacy; how do you see it uniquely contributing to the public’s understanding of the climate emergency?

AB: We’re performing at the Playground Theatre to an audience of only 100 people each night. We’re all part of the show, each of us being asked to contribute to the conversation.

It’s going to feel very close up, both literally and emotionally. There’s a thesis in the play that what we need to survive is community, and the company and solidarity of other people. Being part of the audience for that embodies that idea.

In addition, people like Amitav Ghosh have theorised that the climate crisis is a crisis of the imagination. We haven’t been able to represent it properly, therefore we’ve failed to understand it.

As artists, though, our superpower is our imagination, and it’s important we correct this imbalance. Some of the solutions described in the play feel like dreaming up the impossible; but where better to dream up the impossible than a theatre?

The play is structured as a series of vignettes — what drew you to this form, and how does it reflect the fragmented way we process climate change?

DF: Large-scale environmental change doesn’t really have a protagonist, does it? Every time we narrow our gaze to focus on a single figure or group of characters, we inevitably close off a thousand other possible stories.

Letting go of a single overarching plot means you sacrifice something (a clear story arc) but you gain something in the scope and scale of the stories you can tell.

But this vignette form calls forth a whole other set of fascinating challenges. It’s less like putting together a 3-act narrative and more like assembling an album of songs. How do you shape the builds and drops in the album? Where do you increase intensity and where you do ease out and let things breathe? It’s a whole other task for a creative team, and it’s been really fascinating seeing Atri and the ensemble grapple with it.

For UK audiences, what new perspectives do you think this European premiere will bring compared to conversations already happening here?

DF: My very reductive perspective on the UK and European perspective on climate change is that people here have a very sophisticated understanding of the issues, and a rich language to speak about it with, but less direct experience of the impacts. There’s a lot of intellectual awareness but less embodied understanding of how it feels to live through, say, catastrophic floods, heatwaves or fires.

In other places I work (Australia, the Philippines, Nepal), I think people don’t have as much of a scientific understanding of the causes of climate change, but they understand at a very physical level what it means.

The consequence of all this knowledge without much lived experience, I think, is something like dread. People in the UK and Europe imagine climate change as this terrifying and abstract oncoming force which will transform their world. People in other parts of the world might fear climate impacts, but they don’t dread them in the same way, because you can’t dread something that’s already here.

I think dread can be a really paralysing emotion. And there’s something honestly freeing about knowing that we’re already in this thing, and here are the contours of that experience.

If we’re lucky, this play can take away a little dread and replace it with the bracing cold rush of familiarity. It’s already here. We’re already in it. Climate change isn’t new or strange or abstract, you already recognise it at a cellular level.

On a personal level, how has working on this project shifted the way you think about your own role in the climate conversation?

AB: I came to this play a novice when it comes to the complexities of the climate conversation. Working on this has been hugely educational for me, partly due to the research undertaken in preparing the play, but mostly because of the conversations and collaborations in the room; with David, with the actors, with my assistant director Grace.

It’s been a humbling experience, as well as eye-opening. I don’t know yet how it’s shifted the way I think about my own role – you may have to ask me again once the show opens! But it’s emboldened my feeling that artists can, in fact, contribute to understanding our new world; that we can help find new ways of living. Raymond Williams wrote that “to be truly radical is to make hope possible rather than despair convincing”: that’s what the play does. I’ve been honoured to work on it.

REVIEW: The Day I Accidentally Went to War at Soho Upstairs


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Raw, gripping, funny, insightful and bittersweet 75-minute one-man show.


Bill Posley wastes no time establishing himself as a commanding presence. Entering the intimate black-box studio of Soho Upstairs in full Drill Sergeant mode, he barks orders at the audience, instructing us to find our “battle buddies” nearby. It’s a bold and slightly bracing opening gambit, but it immediately warms the room, as strangers dutifully introduced themselves before settling into the story that followed. It set the tone for a night of sharp interaction, wry observation, and a seamless blend of comedy and confession.

At its core, The Day I Accidentally Went to War is a personal monologue, anchored by Posley’s considerable charisma and knack for storytelling. He charts his own life with candour: a biracial kid, overweight, raised by a strict father and a loving mother who gambles away their house and security. With few clear options ahead, a 17-year-old Posley enlisted in the National Guard reserves primarily as a way of securing college tuition. Then 9/11 happened, and his “safe” decision led to deployment in Iraq.

The show pivots between laugh-out-loud humour and raw honesty. Posley excels at self-deprecation, mining his awkward adolescence and inexperience for comedy, but he also doesn’t flinch from exploring the far less funny realities of war and the patchy support offered to returning veterans. One of the show’s strengths is this refusal to sit neatly in one box: part documentary exposé, part stand-up routine, part theatrical memoir. The addition of a simple but effective PowerPoint—equal parts comic prop and visual anchor – keeps the narrative flowing and adds unexpected punchlines.

There’s a looseness to the format, with audience interaction and gentle heckling folded in naturally. Posley handles it with ease, never losing momentum and often sharpening the comedy in the moment. It’s this combination of polished storytelling and improvisational flair that makes the 70 minutes fly by.

If there needs to be any criticism, it’s that the piece could have been tightened into a more traditional, streamlined hour. A couple of digressions risk diluting the impact, and there are moments when the rhythm slackens (one instance is the introduction of a conspiracy that Posely accidentally started to highlight false information, which was a bit of an unnecessary, albeit funny, segue). However, in all honesty, the balance of humour and heartbreak works so well that any surplus time felt like a bonus rather than an indulgence.

What lingers after the laughter is the depth of Posley’s message. He shines a light on the overlooked struggles of veterans while never allowing the piece to tip into preachiness. The audience was deeply engaged throughout – responsive, laughing, and at times palpably moved. My companion came out glowing about the show, and it was hard not to agree: this is a story that deserves a wider stage and a larger audience.

Bill Posley’s UK debut is both hilarious and humane. With The Day I Accidentally Went to War, he proves himself not just a sharp comic but also a generous storyteller, capable of making a crowd laugh hard, think deeply, and reflect on the costs of conflict – all within the space of one compelling evening.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Wiebke Green

We sat down Wiebke Green who returns to Arcola Theatre with a bold theatrical challenge: Tarantula and The Poltergeist by Philip Ridley, performed in rep for the first time. Tickets here.


Having directed both Tarantula and The Poltergeist before, what excited you most about reimagining them as a back-to-back theatrical experience?

Although the plays are stand-alone pieces, they both explore memory and how identity is shaped by one’s experiences in the past. They’re both highly subjective plays, told from the perspective of two young individuals, but they’re tonally very different; one a fizzy, dark comedy, the other a twisty, psychological thriller. So I think seeing them performed side-by-side will offer up a really rich, thrilling evening.

Philip Ridley’s monologues are emotionally intense and physically demanding-how do you work with actors to sustain that energy across multiple performances a week?

I encourage them to take a well-deserved rest between rehearsals and performances!
We also do check-ins throughout the week with our Stage Manager Mik, and I encourage the actors to speak up about their needs. One-person plays can feel lonely, so we like to reiterate that there’s a support network behind them!

In this double bill, what threads or contrasts between the two plays do you most want the audience to notice?

They’re inherently very different plays, but both are full of moments of joy, humour, revelation, and hope, and explore a young individual‘s response to a traumatic event in their past.

As a British-German director, do you bring any particular cross-cultural perspective to Ridley’s deeply East London-rooted stories?

I love Philip’s writing because it is so well observed. I don’t think it matters where you’re from or what your background is, there’s always something in his writing that everyone can relate to – like the nerves of a first kiss, or irritation at family gathering!

How has your creative relationship with Philip Ridley evolved across your three collaborations at the Arcola?

I guess our creative relationship has deepened in that we now have a short-hand when discussing the work. I know now that when Phil comes to see a run, the overarching note will probably be “yes, that works, but push it further!“

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Pavlos Christodoulou and Adèle Reeves

We sat down for an exclusive interview with co-CEO’s Pavlos Christodoulou and Adèle Reeves. Boundless Theatre are relaunching their Advisory Group made up of 15–25-year-olds as a key part of their mission to create access to theatre and arts for under 26-year-olds. 


  • How does having two co-leaders reflect the values of collaboration and inclusivity that Boundless aims to embed across its work with young creatives?

Adèle: Working together means we’re constantly checking in, sharing responsibility, and making sure no one’s gatekeeping information, everything is out in the open.

In the way that we work, we’re not held tightly by the traditional Executive or Creative Director role confines. Instead, we deeply value each other’s skills and perspectives, allowing us to collaboratively operate beyond siloed job descriptions. This dynamic not only strengthens our decision-making but models the way of working we hope to share across our organisation.

Sharing leadership helps to remove ego from the equation. Wins and failures are collective, and so is the responsibility of strategy and vision. This structure reflects a belief that power can and should be shared, and we actively let that belief ripple into every part of our programming and strategy.

Pav: For us transparency is a core part of how we work, and working together as Co-CEOs requires that we are transparent not just in delegating tasks but also in articulating our why. At the beginning of any new venture we talk about the why and the process we will use. Holding ourselves to account about being transparent about those processes between each other helps us to understand our priorities and work truly together. We can then also communicate this with the young creatives that we work with and model how we might collaborate effectively without holding and gatekeeping information and power. We also believe that no one person can be everything, and that is exemplified not just in our approach but the very structure of the organisation.

  • How are you redefining care-centered leadership to ensure both artistic ambition and sustainable support for emerging talent?

Pav: It has to start internally. adrienne maree brown talks about Fractal practice, that what happens at the smallest scale should be the same as what happens at the largest scale. We use the phrase ‘everything is everything’, meaning that if we make exceptions around care or how we hold space in any of our programs, it’s a threat to the whole. This means we begin by practicing care in the team, in our interactions with artists in one on one chats, in our producing meetings and in our program delivery. Right now is a really difficult time for everyone, and that means that the people starting out are faced with more barriers than normal. As well as doing work to dismantle some of these barriers where we can, we work hard to cultivate a practice that is full of care and emphasises a person centred rather than career centred approach.

Adèle: For us, care-centred leadership means choosing people over pace. We never pursue a project at the expense of our team’s wellbeing, and we’re deeply committed to moving at a speed that allows for reflection, growth, and inclusion.

We lead with the belief that artistic ambition flourishes best in a supportive, flexible environment, where young creatives are paid fairly, heard clearly, and encouraged to advocate for their own needs. If we can’t create those conditions, we ask if the project is worth doing at all.

We’re also big believers in meeting people where they’re at. That means embracing flexible working, scaffolding ambition, and creating space for learning – ours included. Care is the foundation of how we lead, create, and build a future for emerging talent.

  • What role will Croydon and its local community play in shaping the next chapter of Boundless Theatre’s identity and programming?

Pav: Croydon is essential for us. We have always thought of ourselves as a national and international organisation, but our work begins in Croydon, and we are always asking of our program how it can serve young people in Croydon. We want to work like a local organisation but be able to bring that energy and curiosity to work wherever we are, in a multi local approach. We also recognise Croydon is huge, and right now we are focusing on building links within a mile of our base, as well as investigating how we might show up on Croydon high street. And there is a lot more to Croydon than that. Croydon is our mothership, our incubator and our first love.

Adèle: Croydon is Boundless’ home, and that’s an intentional choice. While we remain committed to working nationally and in multi-local contexts, being rooted in Croydon means actively investing in the creativity and energy that already exists here.

There’s so much talent in Croydon that deserves more support and visibility. We see part of our role as sharing resources and building platforms alongside the young people here.

At the same time, we’re excited to foster moments of exchange between young people in Croydon and those across the UK and internationally. That kind of cross-pollination is a key part of our mission.

We know we have a lot to learn from the borough and its communities, and we’re committed to building a relationship that’s reciprocal and rooted in care.

  • How are you ensuring that young people aren’t just included in decision-making, but are actively leading and shaping Boundless’ future?

Adèle: Young people are central to how we think, plan and lead. We create space for them at every level of the organisation, from our advisory group and wider team to the board.

We’re intentional about not pulling the ladder up behind us. That means supporting young people to develop sustainable skills, building long-term relationships and creating opportunities for growth. We focus on repeat engagement, not parachuting in and out of communities, and we aim to build work that leaves a legacy.

We don’t just want to simply invite youth voice into the room. We truly want to listen and amplify these voices without reshaping them to fit any preconceived ideas or agendas.

Pav: Me and Beth (our current young leader) talk about the need to leave gaps in programming if you want to genuinely collaborate. That community comes from shared responsibility, and that people feel connected when they think it would be different/ a problem if they didn’t show up. So for us, ensuring young people are actually leading is about creating areas in our program and strategy that require them, where if they aren’t there nothing will happen, and then supporting and scaffolding them in filling that gap. It takes a lot of time and energy, it’s definitely not the most efficient way to work, and it also uses up our limited capacity as a team. But this is our work, our mission and our values. We prioritise mentoring and co-design over delivering the largest possible number of outputs. We’d rather work slower, at the speed of trust, and support young people to lead and shape our future than move fast and break things (in the words of silicon valley). Because for us we’ve seen time and time again how the collateral damage for approaches that worry more about scale and shininess are the very young people the projects are supposed to be designed by and serve.

  • In what ways are programmes like Accelerator and the reimagined Drama Club evolving to better meet the needs of early-career artists today?

Pav: We are thinking a lot about how to support people in a more holistic way. The pipeline/career ladder grindset model does a lot of harm to young creatives. We want to create spaces that support young creatives to be creative first, which feel increasingly rare as opportunities. So much of what it means to be an artist is to have the ability to notice things others don’t, and that requires permission to slow down and to be present. Making that accessible means giving people structural and financial support, and it is our job to convince funders and stakeholders of the importance of that work. With the drama club in particular, we also recognise how much isolation there is amongst our creative community, and we hope to continue to make spaces where people can build deep and meaningful connections. In the long term it’s not about young creatives being connected to Boundless, we are a part of their journey, and we hope that through their time engaging with us we can help seed deep work and connections that will last beyond us. 

Adèle: We’re making space for young artists to lead and grow within our programmes. That means really listening, giving more creative freedom, and removing financial barriers wherever we can.

Through our Associate Programme Director role, The Boundless Drama Club is now led by a young person from the community it’s designed for, because young people know what they need, and we trust that. We’re also moving away from projects that always need a polished end result, and instead making time for play and connection.

Accelerator and other projects are built to flex and evolve, depending on what participants need. At the heart of it all, we’re trying to create space that feels supportive and collaborative – especially in today’s tough industry landscape.

  • How will your different backgrounds in creative and strategic leadership work in tandem to challenge traditional structures and widen access to the arts?

Adèle: Our different experiences are a real strength. I come from a more organisational background, while Pav holds a more holistic and project-led perspective. That contrast pushes us to constantly question our assumptions. We often approach things from completely different angles, but find that we land on the same core values, keeping us grounded.

We’re also always learning from each other. I grew up in rural Scotland, Pav in South London, and those life experiences shape how we see the world and the sector. There’s something really energising about that exchange.

It feels like we’re building a model of leadership that’s uniquely ours, not based on a rigid definition of what executives are supposed to. That mindset runs through our whole team and programming. We keep asking who’s not in the room that should be and how to open up more space for others to lead alongside us.

Pav: I think me and Adele complement each other because in some ways we have had really different experiences of the industry and where we grew up, but in our values and the things we care about most we are really aligned. I grew up in south London and I’ve had a really squiggly and freelance career, which has included working in facilitating, directing, teaching at drama schools, coaching and running my own theatre company. But it’s also involved hospitality and escape rooms, admin and finance part time roles and lots of other odds and ends jobs. I think that having been in precarious employment for a long time informs a lot of my thinking around the material support young creatives need to be able to be creative. I also talk a lot about thresholds, I grew up round the corner from an arts centre I now love, but didn’t go there until someone from Uni took me. I never knew I could sit and work in the National Theatre for free, or that there were loads of free activities for me all over London. I thought I had to dress up fancy to go to the theatre or maybe they wouldn’t let me in. In this role (and in the years prior) I make a point of crossing those thresholds with young people, permissioning them to occupy those spaces as a starting point to their having influence over them.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Laura Benanti

Following a sold-out run at Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Tony Award-winning Broadway star Laura Benanti makes her London debut with her 5-star one-woman comedy show Laura Benanti: Nobody Cares at Underbelly Boulevard Soho on 2 September (7pm and 9pm) for two performances only. Tickets here.


“Nobody Cares” is such a great title. What does it mean to you, and how did it become the name for this show?

There are many meanings to Nobody Cares. I think we have all had moments where we feel like we are sharing something or working hard and nobody seems to care. Moving through that insecurity or frankly letting go of worrying about that is really hard but so important. I also look back on my life and think of how many times I thought people were judging me for something I did or said, when in reality nobody cared. And lastly, it is something that my youngest daughter said to me at a very hilarious moment. I don’t want to tell you because I don’t want to give it away.

UK audiences may know you from Colbert as Melania or from Gypsy on Broadway, but this is such a different format. What excites you most about performing in a more intimate, cabaret-style setting?

I think the term “cabaret” paints a different picture in the States. I have been a bit allergic to that word because when I hear it I think of a woman in a gown draped across a piano singing “Moon River”. But I realize in the UK it means a completely different thing. My show is an unusual format in that it’s sort of a heightened, autobiographical stand-up comedy with original comedy songs (co-written with the brilliant Todd Almond). It isn’t what people might imagine my show to be. It is quite cheeky, with adult themes and language. I recommend that people under 16 not see it. This show is my absolute favorite thing to do. Connecting with the audience as myself and being a bit naughty is such a thrill. Audiences have responded to it so beautifully, but I want people to know what they are in for! I will not be singing Broadway music!

Looking back to your 18-year-old self stepping onto Broadway, what would you tell her now with everything you’ve learned?

I don’t know if I would have been able to fully understand what I would want to tell her. I think, ultimately, I some it up in the final song, “Recovering Ingenue”. I say “you don’t have to be perfect and shiny and new, and do everything everyone wants you to do. And I only know this because, just like you, I was an ingenue too…”

You’ve played everything from classic Broadway roles to late-night comedy. Does your heart lean more towards one side – musicals or comedy – or do you love the balance of both?
I love the balance of both, and I feel so grateful that I am able to be a part of such different artforms. While I don’t do impressions in this show, in many ways this show blends the two. I get to sing and tell stories and make people laugh.

If audiences walk away with one feeling after “Nobody Cares,” what do you hope it is?
That we don’t have to be defined by our past. We can move forward with kindness and a sense of humor about our younger selves. And that if everybody likes you, you’re lying to someone. It’s ultimately easier and more gratifying just to be yourself. And “yourself” can take time to find, and that’s OK.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Panos Kandunias

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Panos Kandunias, writer and performer of I Bought A Flip Phone which is coming to Oxford Playhouses’ BT Studio from 3-4th September. Tickets can be bought here.


1. I Bought A Flip Phone highlights the contemporary struggle between an individual’s relationship with the outside world and their self-esteem through the lens of social media and technology. What drew you to this specific topic and the challenges it presents? 

I’m fascinated by the fact we’re all more connected than ever before, able to witness each other’s lives constantly, able to reach others at a moment’s notice and yet by many metrics, loneliness is on the rise. What a contradiction. So why is that? I reckon it’s largely because the quality of communication that we’re engaging with on our phones is quite poor.

It’s also a really anxiety inducing medium. I’ve been guilty of, and privy to many conversations with my friends where we are anxious about when someone is going to text back/if someone seems off with us over message. It’s a medium where things can get really misconstrued and your tone doesn’t necessarily come across accurately. Similarly, we are able to construct ideas and fantasies about what someone’s life is like by looking at their profiles, when the reality is often very different. 

I was drawn to all of this because it’s something a lot of people feel, but I hadn’t seen talked about or explored thoroughly, in a fun, upbeat, not just doom-and-gloom, newspaper column way.

People laugh a lot in the show which I’m really proud of! 

2. You have created a character who wrestles with the pressures of modern life, do you think there’s a part of Charlie in you or is he a purely fictional character?

I naively didn’t factor in that performing a solo show that I had written, would mean that audiences so far have often presumed that everything in the show is completely autobiographical! It really isn’t though. Charlie is a work of fiction. I love him and he feels so different to me.

Of course there’s parts of my own experience in there though, and things that I relate to. Then again, the show is about loneliness, spending too much time on your phone, arguments with your best friend or mum and feeling like life is passing you by. Who among us hasn’t felt those things at some point in their life? Those aren’t unique experiences to me. 

3. How do you see I Bought A Flip Phone resonating with people outside the demographic of their late twenties? Is there a universal message you hope to communicate?

The thing I’m really proud of about the show is the variety of demographics who have come up to me afterwards or sent messages saying how much they related to it. Of course, I’ve had gay guys in their 20s say that it really spoke to them, which I’m so glad about. One night I had a gay man who was 24 say how much he loved it  and how it really spoke to his own experiences, but when I left the theatre and the next, a straight couple in their 60s were saying how much it resonated with them and how it had made them laugh a lot, but given them lots to chew on. 

The message of the show though is ultimately to really connect with other people in our lives. To say how we’re really feeling. Because often we think that by not saying how we really feel, it will mean that we won’t burden someone else or that it might cause a rift or tension between us. I think we’re really reared to avoid ‘difficult’ conversations. I hope that the show reminds people that actually by having those ‘difficult’ conversations with people we care about, we become closer.

4. This show is an exploration of mental health, anxiety, and depression. How did you approach writing a character that feels so specific and relatable to such a wide audience?

That is my hope! That the character feels real and lived in but is ultimately relatable to a wide audience. I’m a big believer that in the specific lies the universal (OK, no one’s ever said that before, I think I just heard the ground break), so I think I just set out to write this character’s story to the best of my ability. Very quickly I knew his own voice (both metaphorically and literally, his style of speech as well as his accent), mannerisms and quirks. This serves to help the audience feel as though they’re watching an authentic character.

I think that allows people to connect with the vulnerability of what he says. I also think that because the show is very laugh out loud funny, audiences feel really comfortable and relaxed because it’s upbeat and comedic at moments, which then relaxes them for the more heartfelt moments! 

5. The show is stripped back to just one man on stage with a phone, what made you choose this setup and how does it serve the story you are telling?

I would love to have a clever answer to this but… it just happened?

The bare stage with just a bench and stool do really work for this story though. A lot of audiences say at moments that the show feels like stand-up comedy, which I think makes the story and themes easier to get into. Again, I think this also helps people to feel that the character is authentic and speaking from the heart and less like we’re watching a PLAY. It feels less fictional, I think. 

I think the bare nature of the stage also serves to highlight the amount of drama our phones carry. The phone drives everything Charlie talks about. The text messages and phone calls we receive are how we find out about his life. 

However, if moneyed West End producers would love to put this on and want to collaborate with a designer to do something else on stage, I’d be 1000% open to it and they should for sure reach out! 

6. After writing the story, how would you describe your relationship with social media and modern technology? Has it changed throughout the process?

It’s changed tons. I didn’t have Instagram or any social media when I wrote this show, which started to become a huge barrier in my career. I would have meetings or conversations with theatres, producers, agents and so on and I would be asked what my social media following was like or what my strategy on social media was. Many would be really dismayed or put off when I said I didn’t have any. It’s a part of the industry now, especially for newer artists, it’s so crucial to use these platforms to break through. Now I’ve got Instagram and TikTok. I resent it a little bit, that these platforms are so influential, but if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, is sort of how I feel about it.  

I’m way more conscious of my screen time on my phone. I downloaded and paid for a Premium Subscription to an app called Opal. If you’re interested in reducing your screen time, I HIGHLY recommend. 

FEATURE: Reaching New Heights: The Genesis by Copenhagen Collective

This September, Sadler’s Wells’ Peacock Theatre welcomes Copenhagen Collective with The Genesis (3–6 September, 7.30pm), a breathtaking celebration of human connection and world-class acrobatics.

Fresh from its UK premiere at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival as part of The Danish Showcase, The Genesis brings together 16 international artists from across the globe — including Denmark, Australia, Peru, Canada, Uruguay, Chile, Portugal, USA, Germany, Ireland, France, and the UK — in a show that is as uplifting as it is visually spectacular.

A Global Gathering of Strength and Storytelling

At its heart, The Genesis is about the power of collaboration. Through daring feats of balance, flight, and strength, the performers create a living landscape of trust, conflict, and resolution. The work is not just about physical spectacle — it is a heartfelt exploration of what it means to rely on one another, celebrating difference as strength and interdependence as resilience.

“Bodies meeting become the living proof of the strength of human connection,” says the company, and it is this belief that drives the hour-long journey.

Acrobatic Theatre Reimagined

Performed on a stage transformed by ethereal lighting design from Stefan Goldbaum Tarabini and an original score by composer Leif Jordansson, The Genesis shifts seamlessly between the atmosphere of a cathedral and the pulsing energy of nightlife. The soundtrack, blending classical violin and piano with jazz, blues, and club-inspired beats, envelops the audience in a world both mystical and deeply human.

From stacked towers of performers to gravity-defying tumbles, the show layers storytelling with jaw-dropping physical artistry, drawing audiences of all ages into a world where cooperation triumphs over division.

From Copenhagen to the World

The Genesis premiered at Baltoppen LIVE in Copenhagen in 2024 and has already toured internationally to acclaim, with appearances at Festival Mueca (Spain), Stora Teatern (Sweden), Festival Montréal Complètement Cirque (Canada), and Riga Cirks (Latvia). London now has its chance to witness this extraordinary company as they continue their journey across Europe and beyond.

An Experience for All Generations

Moving, joyous, and filled with awe-inspiring physicality, The Genesis is suitable for audiences aged 6 and up, making it an inspiring evening for families as well as theatre lovers seeking a fresh take on contemporary circus.


📍 Copenhagen Collective: The Genesis
Peacock Theatre, London
Wednesday 3 – Saturday 6 September 2025, 7.30pm
Press Night: Wednesday 3 September

⏱ Running Time: 60 minutes
👤 Age Recommendation: 6+ (contains strobe lighting and haze)

For tickets and further information, visit: thegenesis.dk


REVIEW: Sh!t-faced Shakespeare – Hamlet


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A boozy take on Hamlet keeps the laughs flowing and Shakespeare accessible – best enjoyed with a beer.


If you think Shakespeare is too high-brow, too slow, or too sober – Sh!t-faced Shakespeare is here to change your mind, pint (or Jubel beer) in hand.

Bringing high but lighthearted energy to the London scene, Sh!t-faced Hamlet delivers a condensed, irreverent take on the Danish tragedy, with one catch: a different cast member is genuinely drunk every night. This time, the inebriated crown rested on the head of Hamlet himself – a first in my experience – and it created a fascinating shift in the dynamic. While with previous shows I have seen the love interest or a more peripheral character take on the alcoholic gauntlet, putting the title role under the influence is a bold move, and one that resulted in moments of brilliant disruption, but occasionally at the cost of the play’s rhythm and clarity.

Highlights included Hamlet sneaking into scenes he wasn’t in to applaud dastardly going-ons, or accidentally dropping major plot points well ahead of time – all hilarious, if slightly chaotic. With the main monologue-deliverer under the influence, the show occasionally lost momentum, and the repetition of drunk ramblings (and a few too many “èr’s”) started to wear thin by the second half. 

Fortunately, Sh!t-faced Shakespeare anticipates these moments of madness – with a hilarious compère ready to intervene via blaring air horn, frequent audience interaction, and just enough structure to keep things moving. At a tight two hours including interval, it turns out that’s exactly the right amount of time to find a drunk actor funny without overstaying their welcome.

The cast is quick-witted, resilient, and clearly well-rehearsed in improvisation. Hamlet (drunk or not) was a standout, alongside Claudius, who kept the pace brisk and the audience laughing. Gertrude showed remarkable poise, volleying back ad-libbed nonsense without dropping character, while Ophelia and Laertes perhaps gave a little too much space for Hamlet’s drunken tangents, allowing some scenes to drag.

While the condensed script is mostly effective – and certainly accessible to Shakespeare newcomers – some moments (notably Ophelia’s burial and the opening ghost scene) lacked the comedic punch or energy of the rest of the show. But that’s a minor quibble in an otherwise very funny night. My companion had never attended a Shakespeare before and was already planning to return with her partner to see if they got a different actor drunk the next night. 

Having previously seen Sh!t-faced shows at the Edinburgh Fringe, I’d wondered if the format would lose some of its magic outside of that festival bubble – but this summer run proves it’s perfectly suited for rowdy Londoners and more traditional theatre-goers alike. It’s Shakespeare with a twist, and it works.