Category: Review

REVIEW: Kindling

Published on by Mark LloydLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A charming show about grief, menopause, and new friends.”

Kindling, written by Sarah Rickman (who also stars) and directed by Emma Gersch, is a warm and frequently charming production that brings together five perimenopausal women on a mandatory camping trip. They are embarking on this adventure to fulfill a late friend’s final wish, and in doing so, they are thrust into an unfamiliar environment where shared grief and clashing personalities ultimately forge unexpected bonds.

The core appeal of Kindling lies in its genuine depiction of people connecting, sharing memories, and ultimately becoming friends. It’s a joy to watch this realistic ragtag bunch warm up to each other. The notes of shared grief are handled with a refreshing authenticity and the emotional and pensive moments are where the show truly shines, feeling very real and never overdone. The comedic elements, while occasionally broad and predictable, generally land well and contribute to the play’s light touch. Bonus points are due for some particularly believable drunk acting that adds to the jovial atmosphere.

While the eventual connection feels true, the initial stages of the women’s relationship occasionally strain credibility. Some of the characters are really quite mean to each other from the off, a level of overt antagonism between near-strangers that feels bizarre and not true to life.

Furthermore, while all the characters are somewhat heightened, the character of Rose, played by writer Sarah Rickman, stands out as being almost a toddler in an adult’s body. For me, this characterisation crossed the line from being merely heightened into feeling unreal, almost belonging in a different show entirely.

A standout element is the excellent set design by Abi Groves. A painted backdrop of a forest scene cleverly melds into real branches, with leaves, twigs, and dirt scattered on the floor. This attention to detail succeeds in grounding the play, helping to bring the whole show to life.

In conclusion, Kindling is a charming if imperfect show. It tackles themes of grief, menopause, and new friendships with a winning spirit and real emotional depth. Though the cast is exclusively middle-aged women, the show’s appeal extends far wider. Its fundamental story of human connection is universal, managing to charm audiences of all ages and genders.

Kindling is playing at the Park Theatre until November 15th. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Period Parrrty

Published on by anulichangaLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A revolutionary, intergenerational decolonisation of Tamil culture and history”

How do you explain if you’ve never been taught the words, if you don’t even know they exist in your language? Non-binary Tamil teenager, Krish, knows who they are, but will it all translate? Writer Gayathiri Kamalakanthan’s personal exploration of period parties as a queer, Tamil person is beautiful, revolutionary and joyful. First presented by Kali Theatre as a short play in 2022, this 1-hour 25-minute iteration is a triumph of heart, education, cultural appreciation and intersectionality.

We meet Krish (Elizabeth Green) and Brenavee (Tanvi Virmani) in the school toilets, discussing Krish’s first period and the unnecessarily complicated process of inserting tampons. The openness with which these teenage friends explore the contradictions of a samathiya veedu (period party) is vulnerable and unflinching. Whilst period parties are a cultural celebration, they are also gendered and lack discussion of actually bleeding. For Krish, it feels like a trap

Virmani and Green’s chemistry is really thoughtfully built. Their teenage characters are so believable, from language and mannerisms to costuming (Eve Oakley), down to the thumb hole ripped into Krish’s school jumper. Virmani plays Brenavee’s no-nonsense, loving acceptance of her friend beautifully. Moments like Brenavee casually handing over a binder she’s bought Krish are such powerful positive affirmations to behold; it’s normal, it should be normal. Green’s portrayal of Krish’s growth as they gain power through knowledge is excellent. Their physicality and energy is always changing and moving, reacting so relatably to the world seemingly not built for them, desparate to be seen for who they are.

Rani Moorthy’s performance as Brintha, Krish’s Amma (mother), demonstrates so much depth and dimension. Despite Krish’s story arc being at the forefront of this story, Brintha and Brenavee have fully realised wants and needs that audiences can relate to and care about. Importantly, no character is perfect or painted as the villain. It is so refreshing to experience three people sharing love, food, culture and eventually, their truths.

Lighting (Jahmiko Marshal), costume and music (Marshall/ Niroshini Thambar) combine to create the gravity and ceremony of the period party. It feels intimate, layered and threatening, as Krish resists the implications of the sari and the makeup, pressure building to accept what is expected of them. Green often speaks directly to the audience, effortlessly drawing us into their determination and self-assurance. Period Parrty is punctuated with frequent audience reactions: gasps, shouts of laughter and sounds of joy. This is particularly evident during the period party preparations and ceremony, as Moorthy’s expertly subtle interactions with, us let us now we are party guests. The thrust staging really lends itself to including the audience and Gitika Buttoo’s staging ensures there is always a new angle to experience the story. 

The cast of Period Parrrty is completed by the recordings Krish collects. The beginnings of an oral Tamil history, that includes Queerness. The combination of dramaturgy (Pooja Sivaraman) and personal experience creates an immersive education experience. The audience leaves wiser, knowing Tamil words like இருமையின்மை (non-binary, pronounced irumaiyinmai) and குயர் (queer, pronounced kuyar).  

The deceptively simple set (Designer Katie Scott Set built by Centre Stage Scenery), aids in our visual learning. The navy walls begin to fill with diagrams about the Caste system, Hindu Gods, maps, 2010 icons and destroyed landmark, the Jaffna Tamil Library. When Brintha finally opens up to her child about the Tamil genocide and Sri Lanka civil war, the evidence is all around us. Moorthy’s retellings of these real atrocities are done so powerfully. As she opens up to Krish, she invites them to do the same. 
Through Krish, Kamalakanthan imagines a queer-inclusive period party. One with drag artists, poets and dancers, inclusive of all identities. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of it?!Period Parrrty is a heartwarming, defiant decolonisation of tradition, stories and culture. A universal reminder to talk, learn and listen. Never assume the version of history you’re being told is the only one because every identity has roots. Owning your identity does not have to come at the expense of tradition and culture; they can intertwine and harmonise on your terms.

Period Parrrty plays at Soho Theatre until 22nd November. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Are You There, Nancy Reagan?

Published on by Eoin FentonLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

“A witty but disjointed look at female friendship.”

If I was on Sex and the City I would be Charlotte. Specifically pre-9/11 when she was cross-dressing for hookups and posing nude for artists, before they turned her from a romantic to a prude. I find myself meditating on this following Are You There, Nancy Reagan?. A play from the collective Poisoned Well Productions, made up of East 15 graduates and North American theatrical creatives based in London. Written by Emma Freund and directed by Catherine Meiss, the play is a comical analysis of womanhood and female friendship in the 21st century. Narrated by Audrey Parry, we focus on a group of four friends who have gathered together for an annual slumber party. 

The central quartet is composed of that exact blend of distinctive, and perhaps relatable, characters. You’ve got the non-confrontational one, the spiritual one, the businesswoman, and the straight-talker. The group are totally believable as a gang of long-term pals, flopped onto each other like blankets and taking the piss out of one another. But there is a sense that this group has grown apart, that the glue is beginning to wear off. These are four women with very little in common. This all comes to a head when they really grill each other over what attitudes and personality flaws disgust them most within the group. Oftentimes, though there are a lot of laughs in the text, the comments they snipe at each other aren’t funny, they’re quite uncomfortable to hear. This is a fractured sorority. 

The clash between these ladies serves Freund’s dissection of pop culture’s obsession with female friendship nicely. We are ordered by Parry to pick which one we relate to most. Which of these girls is the Samantha? Are they giving Girls or Derry Girls? Who jokes like Phoebe? Who dresses like Rachel? Who stresses like Monica? We may try, out of habit, to assign a role to each of the women, and they do largely fit into their niche. What’s different here is the often-referred-to presence of feminist critique. The ladies, painfully aware of the flaws of each other, live in an age of heightened media consumption and Reductress articles. They watch the bachelor and read Audre Lorde. They contain multitudes. In weaker hands this dichotomy could weigh down the whole piece, but Freund always manages to keep us laughing while looking at some very pertinent philosophical elements. She strikes the balance. 

I must note here that I’m about to divulge a spoiler to the plot, but I think it’s an important one to divulge since I found it to be a major hindrance to the play. Parry, as it turns out, is not just a narrator to the underlying tensions at play in the slumber party, they are also the ghost of the friend whose birthday the slumber party commemorates. We learn through flashback that they were suicidal, and that in the present their friends still grapple with this loss. While touching at points — there is a beautifully poetic, eloquently delivered monologue from Parry after the shoe drops — altogether, it feels like a major curveball, a rather clunky one at that. Aside from the troublesomeness that comes with the Dead (by suicide) All Along trope, it only serves to distract from the momentum that the ensemble had built up to that point. A left-field turn doesn’t always bring the profundity you want.

REVIEW: Conspiracy

Published on by Miles MorganLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“Halloween is here; orange is the new black and October is almost over. Spooky decorations are aplenty and the freaky flow of trick or treaters will soon be upon us.”

To celebrate the spookiest month of the year there is a fringe festival in London called GrimFest. It runs throughout October and celebrates dark and twisted theatre in the piercing heart of London. Barons Court Theatre has joined forces with Old Red Lion Theatre in Islington and Bread and Roses Theatre in Clapham to produce the largest edition of GrimFest yet. It appropriately culminates on Halloween night after a three week series of spine-tingling shows.

One of these productions is ‘Conspiracy’, a topical dark comedy that charts one man’s descent into paranoia and madness as he gets sucked into the online world of conspiracy theories. Written and directed by Jodie Garnish, this new play was performed at Barons Court Theatre by Frederick Arnot for two nights this week.

After being fired from his job and leaving under a cloud, Brian (Arnot) is struggling with isolation and poverty. He subsequently descends into the online world of online discussion forums and conspiracy theories, which forms of the basis of the play. What begins as an innocuous interest soon spirals into something darker as Brian becomes increasingly paranoid and unable to decipher internet speculation from reality. A claustrophobic dark comedy, ‘Conspiracy’ blends horror and humour to explore the devastating real-life consequences of online hysteria and misinformation.

Brian’s days involve a mixture of slouching in a dressing gown, eating bland ready meals and posting rambling videos whilst being chronically online. This mixture makes for a toxic cocktail which separates him from reality and plunges him into a warped world of his own. Arnot gives a reasonably solid performance and the dark subterranean setting of the Barons Court Theatre accentuated the gloomy life Brian has come to lead. 

Some conspiracy theories can be downright bizarre, some provide amusement due to their outlandishness and some can be so gripping they are turned into Oscar winning movies. You can easily lose an hour going down a Wikipedia rabbit hole reading about some of them. Everyone is entitled to believe whatever theories they want regardless of how unlikely or controversial something might be. But it is important to use your judgement and read the room whilst talking about your beliefs/theories and firmly establish whether to even share them at all. Watching this notion play out on stage is very topical, especially the scenes where Brian sets up his iPhone and records his rambling tirades to post online. People filming themselves talking, complaining, crying etc. and posting it online is very commonplace nowadays, not just with youngsters but also older folk who should know better.

Writer & director Garnish says: “Conspiracy promises audiences a funny and frightful evening, with an ending they’ll be thinking about long after the lights go down.”

“We believe that the themes of online misinformation and fearmongering are incredibly relevant to our current culture and seek to explore these themes in a darkly humorous and sensitive manner.”

So in closing was ‘Conspiracy’ a trick or a treat? Truthfully neither of these terms are suitably befitting, but there was definitely something topically gripping about it.

REVIEW: Moving Pictures

Published on by Evelina BlackLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“An atmospheric and evocative celebration of some of the very best 21st-century film scores.”

The BBC Philharmonic Orchestra’s Moving Pictures at The Bridgewater Hall was an atmospheric and evocative celebration of some of the very best 21st-century film scores.

As a big fan of film and live music I knew Moving Pictures wasn’t one to miss. The programme promised an “all-killer, no-filler set” and they undoubtedly delivered. The audience were taken on a brilliantly curated journey through genres and moods from intense otherworldly soundscapes to romantic and sensitive themes.

Robert Ames led the orchestra with incredible skill and the decision to have Ali Plumb presenting the scores was a perfect one. He brought useful information, context, and fun every time he entered the stage, and ensured that even if you hadn’t seen every film featured, you still felt included in the experience.

One of my favourite things about the BBC Philharmonic is how they push boundaries. That innovation was on full display here, with a spinning bike wheel used for percussive effects and the rhythmic sounds of a typewriter being used in Dario Marianelli’s ‘Briony’ for Atonement (2007). It was these unexpected instruments that served as a reminder of how creative film scoring can be. As is characteristic of the BBC Philharmonic, the orchestra stretched the possibilities of sound and expression, inviting us to reconsider what music is capable of and how it shapes emotion. Film music proved to be the perfect medium for that mission, highlighting just how essential the score is to the cinematic experience.

I could very easily (and happily) talk at length about every single piece performed but instead, I encourage you to tune in to the recorded performance on BBC Radio 3. So, sticking to the film theme and in true Letterboxd fashion, here are my top four picks from the evening: 

Interstellar (2014) – Hans Zimmer

Hearing one of Zimmer’s most iconic scores live was a transcendent experience, especially with the Bridgewater Hall organ, played by Neil Taylor, creating so much power and depth. Reportedly, Zimmer composed a piece for the organ in an attempt to capture his experience of parenthood without knowing that Christopher Nolan planned to explore that idea through astronauts travelling far from home.  The result is music that feels emotionally intimate and vastly expansive, just like the film, serving as a reminder of just why Hans Zimmer is so legendary. 

Moon (2009) – Clint Mansell

This was the only film on the programme I hadn’t seen but now it’s gone straight to the top of my watchlist from the music alone. Mysterious, seductive, and tinged with isolation, it balances a melancholy piano with quiet strings and surges of electronica. The programme notes that the piano reflects the fragility of the protagonist’s (Sam Rockwell) identity as he yearns to return to the human world.  The electric guitar part, played by Peter Willmott, was captivating. 

There Will Be Blood (2007) – Jonny Greenwood

As a devoted Paul Thomas Anderson fan, I was very happy to see this film included and even happier upon hearing the score live. This was Jonny Greenwood’s first feature-film score and it is bold, unsettling, and wildly expressive. Written predominantly for strings, it captures greed, ambition, and the psychological corruption at the film’s core. During the performance, it felt like insatiable power and evil was oozing directly from the strings and straight into the audience. 

Poor Things (2023) – Jerskin Fendrix

This was the perfect end to the concert: strange, lively, and completely original. Poor Things was the first film for which Yorgos Lanthimos did not rely on source music, instead beginning what is now a continued relationship with Jerskin Fendrix. It was also Fendrix’s first time scoring a film, and his colourful, experimental work earned him an Oscar nomination. The harp, played beautifully by Anwen Mai Thomas, added bursts of playful energy to the score’s weird and whimsical world that Bella Baxter (Emma Stone) inhabits. It was an exciting finale that celebrated risk-taking and showcased how boldly film music continues to evolve.

Overall, Moving Pictures was a cinematic adventure through sound, reminding us of the power of film scores to define how we see, feel, and remember cinema.

REVIEW: Birdwatching

Published on by roisinlystLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“It was clear some people had found the play quite powerful”

‘Birdwatching’ is a three-woman show set in the Northumbrian forests, which follows a group of girls in their late teens attempting a camping trip. It explores themes including folklore, neurodivergence and friendship dynamics between young women. 

The Northern Stage is a very nicely presented and modern little theatre, and I appreciated the intimate setting for this particular play. As it began, the very minimal set of just leaves on the ground was enough to make the audience feel like we were enveloped in the surroundings of a forest, where the story was about to unfold.

The acting was brilliant. As someone who was a teenager not long ago, I felt like I could relate to each character in some way. I thought it was a great idea to create a dynamic of neither three friends nor three strangers: these were two people who were mutual friends with the third. It meant tension and jealousy started to arise, as they unintentionally competed for attention and proving that they were the closer friend. It was interesting to see how one of the girls, Lauren, showed neurodivergent characteristics: very nervous, insecure and struggling to fit in, particularly with the girl she didn’t know. Meanwhile it seemed that one of the other girls, Poppy, could be too, but it was less obvious because she had more of a confident and abrasive front. The third, Amelia, had trauma in her past, and the way the three acted around each other and treated each other was fascinating – I imagine it was very interesting to write. In some ways, the competition between Poppy and Lauren over Amelia made them almost ignore Amelia herself, and dismiss her concerns of danger.

Throughout the show, I felt it was taking a path where the girls were going to uncover things about themselves and each other, ultimately developing relationships and potentially romance. There seemed to be a lot of loose ends and things mentioned which I was hoping would culminate in a resolution, but many of them were never mentioned again, and instead the story took a sudden wild turn, ending with what I could only describe as paranormal horror. I would say that there were a lot of unanswered questions, and it left me feeling slightly unsatisfied.

After the show there was a question and answer session which allowed the audience to talk to the cast and producers. It was lovely to hear people talk about identifying with the characters due to their own experiences of being neurodivergent, young and queer, and it was clear some people had found the play quite powerful.

In summary, I found the acting brilliant, the concept and characterisation very interesting and my attention was held throughout, but I felt there was more of a story to unfold before the abrupt ending.

REVIEW: Wyld Woman

Published on by Faye BergerLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

While Isabel Renner’s 70 minute one-woman show about breaking out of her Shy Girl mode lacks consistent plot beats, it contains an entertaining array of quirky characters and excellent design elements

In this, the post-Fleabag era, one-woman comedies exploring the plights of twenty-something women finding their ways in a big city are not hard to come by. While each show makes earnest attempts to carve out their niche in the fringe landscape by trying to exhibit how they’re “not like other shows,” inevitably, the Waller-Bridge deja vu strikes sooner or later. Isabel Renner’s Wyld Woman: The Legend of Shy Girl does not escape the mold of the quirky comedy. In its attempts at individuality and uniqueness, the plot gets muddled in a scattering of overly-disparate memory vignettes and half-baked attempts at breaking the fourth wall. 

Now don’t get me wrong– the quality of this production was impressive. Stepping into the theatre, you can see no expense was spared when it came to the fully fleshed-out living room and kitchen of a New York City apartment, decorated floor to ceiling in pink party decor. Attention to detail was obviously not lacking in the design of this show. 

While the whole apartment is set up for a party, for the majority of the piece we are left in the dark as to precisely why. A show whose whole premise is about a ‘shy girl’ navigating living in the Big Apple, ‘amongst legends,’ despite her self-crippling ‘shy girl stuff,’ Renner recounts tales about how her shyness has impeded her desire to find love and connection. Through a series of vignetted memories, prompted by conversational topics on index cards, we witness her charcuterie board of character voices and physical comedy skills. After about five of these scenes, from her ‘hot girl roommate’ Memphis, to her 6-year-old therapist Shelly (the emotionally intelligent little girl she’s paid to babysit turned therapist), to her German gynaecologist, the plot grows cold and gets muddled in what hues dangerously close to feeling like a long form SNL audition. 

Supported by Catja Hamilton’s intuitive lighting design and Sasha Howe’s subtle and dynamic sound design, several moments of the piece are engaging and playful, particularly the climactic ‘Blowjob Ballet.’ Cameron King’s direction left no stone unturned and no corner untouched– truly proven by a whole segment taking place atop the fridge. 

When the eponymous Shy Girl attempts to ‘unleash her inner sex goddess’ through the Wyld Woman program, the play takes an unexpected tangent where her sex coach Twilight encourages the audience to proudly proclaim ‘My pussy is prophetic and prompt.’ Unfortunately, the attempts at audience interaction and “immersive seating” with the 4 audience members sitting at the dining table never reached their full potential. In the contemporary landscape of London theatre overflowing with interactive theatre, simply calling out audience members by name and getting them to shout out affirmations was not enough to warrant the 10 minute delayed start time where ushers scrambled about to get everyone to fill out pink name badges, and find willing people to sit onstage.  

Ultimately, an impressive set and expensive production budget does not a successful play make. Hailing from New York myself, I was eager to see how this play would adapt for the British stage. Although unfamiliar with earlier iterations, it seems to strongarm British references (and accents of course) with the clientele of the restaurant Shy Girl works at is mostly from the UK, culminating in the ‘unnamed British rockstar’ hitting on her while she’s taking his order. 

Despite the pitfalls of the plot, Renner does craft a compelling and comedic character with many delightful moments to enjoy. Through her trials of a failed lovelife and embarrassing Chipotle breakdown, the conclusion that we (her imaginary friends) are her real homies because we see her with love is a tad predictable, anti-climatic, and unintentionally sad, undercutting the endearing sentiment that the piece appears to be trying to cultivate. In the end, this show is an excellent vehicle for Renner to showcase her broad scope of characters, and maybe we can walk away seeing past the shy girl inside all of us to explore our true inner 6-year-old therapists. 

REVIEW: Deciphers

Published on by Ke MengLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Electrifying, sensational and satisfyingly exhausted

Decipher means to figure out or make sense of something that is difficult to comprehend. 

To decipher something may require not only epistemological knowledge but also embodied knowledge. You cannot decipher the smell of jasmine without actually smelling it. 

Co-created by Jean Abreu and Naishi Wang, with dramaturgy by Guy Cools, Deciphers is a multidisciplinary dance performance that explores cross-cultural negotiation and connection. Both as multi-cultural immigrant artists, the pair expresses their emotions and concerns about the globally urgent issue of immigration throughout the world in today’s political and cultural climate.

The London stage never lacks shows and plays about immigration, diaspora and cross-cultural identity. What distinguishes Abreu and Wang is that, instead of interweaving those disputes into a spoken drama, they choose to illustrate their mutual journeys as immigrants through their bodies both as a site and a tool. The physicality of Deciphers is at once extremely intense yet extremely subtle, where emotions and confusions, and frustrations are not only embodied in their movements but also delicately transmitted in-between their movements. This is a realm where spoken language usually become inadequate to carry. 

However, the piece also contains an entire dialectical, even philosophical sequence where Abreu and Wang discuss the notion of “completeness” (wanzheng完整) in Portuguese and Chinese. It could be an extra bonus if you understand either of the language, but it would be equally fine if you do not. Through their crawling, swirling, hugging and entangling, the emotional and physical intensity becomes undeniably weighty that you can barely breath, as if you are viscerally empathetic to their fierce struggle and oppression as immigrants. Especially if you are one yourself, it is beyond overwhelming. 

Ivy Wang’s visual design and Luccie Bazzo’s lighting create a minimalist yet intimate world within the Coronet Theatre. At one moment, Bazzo’s neon-textured light projects their silhouettes in a Warholian style; in another, a warm orange hue cuts the stage into uneven halves that evoke a sense of the existential undertone of French contemporary dance. Olesia Onykiienko’s composition is restrainedly precise, surfacing at crucial moments to underscore the performers’ inner turmoil.

Lie Dormant. Men in dark times. At the beginning, Abreu and Wang draw on a vast plastic scroll that later crumples into a tangled mass, pierced by two light tubes. However terrible our world might seem for now temporarily, there is, and will always be, light.

REVIEW: Even More… Ghost Stories by Candlelight

Published on by molliebiddlecombeLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

An absolutely terrifying show that’ll get your heart rate up

stories that were told tonight were ones not for the faint hearted. An unraveling of fear in real time kept us as the audience very occupied, trying to figure out piece by piece what was going to happen next. 

Even More Ghost Stories By Candlelight co-produced by Pentabus and Hightide, written by Florence Espeut-Nickless, Simon Longman, Anne Odeke and Rosa Torr and directed by Elle While brought modernised Victorian ghost stories to life. Completing three productions of this well made show, we see four stories, gruesome, horrific and paranormal. 

The elements glued well together in this production, nothing left detached. An old urban dank space decaying was the space. Mushrooms growing on the rocks and walls, mold seeping in the building, the stage was efficient and managed to cover and compensate for each story. 

Throughout the performance the lighting made me jump madly, red eyes appearing, biblical shining white lights. Bleeding sound coming into the space frightened the whole audience each and every time it was used. The dialogues developed well, going from attempting to convince us about something paranormal, to then diving deep into what was happening, feeling, sensations, physically too. 

The pace was fast yet easy to follow. After each short story ended, there was perhaps a fifteen second gap to breath after holding my breath for each and every story. But apart from that, there was nowhere to escape these tales. 

Both actors gave a convincing performance throughout. Having the ability to swap between voices and roles, without overwhelming or over complicating matters. Keaton Guimarães-Tolley gave a specific and hilarious showing of multiple characters, all characters portrayed by Guimarães-Tolley had a clownish side to them, making me feel bad for when something bad happened. Sarita Gabony was brilliantly quick switching thoughts and feelings from one character to another. 

The dramaturgical choices were well executed. The forms of storytelling between each story changed every so slightly, keeping me on the edge of my seat, excited for the next one. 

Something that I am still thinking about now is the motif of the white horse, a prompt that continuously popped up in each story, changing purpose and scale but always keeping some sort of resemblance. By the end of the performance, a tiny white horse figure had made its way to the stage, faintly projecting white light. Now this small figurine had so much thought behind it, I felt convinced by what I had seen. I believe what was witnessed was genuinely disturbing. 

Overall, this show was fantastically frightening, bold and captivating, I believe it to be a must see and fitting for this time of year.

This show runs at the Bristol Old Vic theatre from the 21st of October until the 25th of October. It then continues touring until the 8th of November 2025.

REVIEW: Landscape

Published on by Eoin FentonLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A provoking examination of the erotic and voyeuristic

Martha Graham, at the advent of opening her company to men, was plagued by an issue among her new hires: vagina envy. Graham had, for years, coached her dancers ewith uterine terminology, causing discontent for the men. If anyone is to carry on that fine tradition of “dance from the vagina” as Martha put it, it just might be Elena Antoniou. The Cypriot dancer brings her solo work Landscape to close the international festival Dance Umbrella with a takeover of the Shoreditch Town Hall. Using a vernacular that’s highly sexual, it promises to be a solo that ‘dares us to watch’, playing with our ideas of observation and objectification.

We enter to Antoniou raised high above the ground on a platform in the centre of the space. Audience members are free to roam, stand, and sit anywhere in the space to get a look. Antoniou takes us all in, her arms floating as if full of air. She begins to lock eyes with her audience — she has a very authoritative stare. We get the impression that Antoniou is some sort of untouchable queen bee, or a glittering, free sexual being, proudly flaunting her stuff to the gawking onlookers as she humps the floor and spreads her legs. 

The act of observation isn’t just between the viewer and Antoniou, but between the audience members too. Though there’s some haze and low lighting, a lot of the other audience members are still within clear view. You really notice the movement of the herd — when one person changes position it almost always triggers a ripple effect of repositioning among the audience. When Antoniou hits a new position many viewers, including myself, take out their phone to record her next act of exertion — Antonio’s allows her performance to be filmed and photographed. Sometimes our attention is drawn too to individuals that Antoniou singles out. (There was also a child there for some reason).

This absolute obliteration of the fourth wall makes Antoniou all the more compelling. At first it is as if she is trying to lure us in intentionally, later it feels as if she is some sort of caged animal that poses for our entertainment, further still and she begins to look at us like one would curiously admire a fish tank. Antoniou’s expression glides between sultry and quizzical, angry and apathetic. The piece continues. Antoniou paces her small domain with an increasing impatience. She slams her fist into the ground, wallops her pleasers against the hard surface. Cracks begin to show little by little. With her pelvis jutted out and legs splayed she very slowly recoils, her expression drops as if a little embarrassed.

The element of vulnerability is what really makes this work magnetic. There is certainly a level of novelty in the format, and the hazy lighting and sparse, bassy score create an icy vibe. But Antoniou, as an object on display, strikes a nerve in whoever watches her. You want desperately for her to be able to speak. Instead she continues to slink about her stage and perform. She stares defiantly in my direction, it feels as if we lock eyes. Standing tall, but weighed by melancholy, she stamps her left foot into the ground again and again, barking some sort of command or insult, perhaps crying out for help. She stamps and stamps. The house lights come up and people begin to slowly file out, a few of us stay. She continues to stamp as her face becomes weighted with a sort of grief, as if she can no longer bear us to see her like this. 

Though initially neutral and distant in its style, Landscape is a work that casts you under a spell. It may even have you not wanting to leave at all. A highly compelling solo work that is a marked standout in Dance Umbrella’s programme.