REVIEW: Bonnie and Clyde: The Musical


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A blend of suspense, romance, and comedy where incredible staging and powerhouse performances bring America’s most notorious outlaws to life like never before!


“Bonnie and Clyde: The Musical” UK production takes audiences on a gripping journey through one of history’s most infamous criminal duos. From the moment the curtains rise, it’s clear that this production is something special. With an incredible use of original source material and innovative staging techniques, the audience is immediately transported to the heart of the action.

The show’s ability to captivate from the very start is unparalleled. From the opening scene, I found myself completely engrossed, unable to look away from the stage. Every moment was meticulously crafted to keep the audience on the edge of their seats, eagerly awaiting what would happen next. There were so many moments the entire theatre was silent, and I felt chills at certain points in the performance.

What truly sets this production apart is the outstanding acting and professionalism displayed by the cast. Each member of the ensemble brings their character to life with such authenticity and depth that it’s hard to believe they’re not the real characters themselves. Their chemistry on stage is electric, drawing the audience deeper into the tangled web of romance, suspense, drama, and comedy that unfolds before them.

Speaking of which, the blend of genres in this production is nothing short of masterful. One moment, you’re holding your breath during a tense standoff with the law, and the next, you’re laughing out loud at the witty banter between the characters. It’s this seamless transition between moments of high tension, lighthearted humor and mundane moments that keeps the audience fully engaged from start to finish.

As someone who has seen their fair share of theatrical productions, I can confidently say that “Bonnie and Clyde: The Musical” ranks among the best. Not only does it entertain, but it also does justice to the true story behind the legend. The creative team behind this production has succeeded in capturing the essence of Bonnie and Clyde while adding their own unique spin.

And let’s not forget the standing ovation that this show rightfully deserves. As the final notes of the last song faded away, the audience erupted into applause, a testament to the impact that this production had on everyone in attendance. It’s not often that a show leaves such a lasting impression, but “Bonnie and Clyde: The Musical” is truly something special.

In conclusion, if you have the chance to see “Bonnie and Clyde: The Musical”, don’t hesitate. It’s an experience you won’t soon forget, filled with incredible performances, captivating storytelling, and enough twists and turns to keep you guessing until the very end even for those who are aware of the story.

REVIEW: Beats


Rating: 4 out of 5.

In Scotland in the 90s, Johnno McCreadie wants to attend his first real rave, but instead finds himself in an act of political rebellion.


Johnno McCreadie, fifteen-years-old, a resident of the small Scottish town of Livingstone, wants to experience a rave. As a result of the 1994 Criminal Justice Act, these raves have been deemed illegal. Unable to outright proclaim young people gathering in a field to be a punishable crime, the raves were judged antisocial behaviour, specifically if characterized by music that contains ‘the emission of a succession of repetitive beats.’ 

Thus, these raves acquired a mysterious, underground status. Luckily, Johnno’s best mate Spanner and his friend from somewhere in the South of England are worldly enough to be in-the-know. One night, dodging past his worried mother, he hops into the car with Spanner and his English friend, and heads to his first real rave. Happening concurrently, disillusioned cop Robert Dunlop, gets ready for his night shift, where he hears that the night’s mission will be shutting down an illegal party. 

The play interchanges between scenes with deft speed, allowing the audience to observe the characters’ experiences as they progress throughout the night. Ned Campbell does a phenomenal job in this challenging one-man play. Over the course of the sixty-minute production, he switches between various characters within the same scene by the line, as well as suddenly turning to another character in a completely different scene, happening somewhere else in Livingstone that same evening. One moment, he is Johnno’s worried mother, ironing clothes, trying to distract herself from her worry and anger towards her son, whom she suspects lurched out of the house to attend an illegal rave. The next moment, Campbell is playing three different characters in the same scene, chatting on the way to the rave. The very next moment, he is Robert Dunlop, preparing for the night’s shift. Campbell allows playwright Kieran Hurley’s dialogue to do the work for him, signalling a change in character through subtle vocal and postural adjustments. It was surprisingly easy to track who each character was, despite Campbell’s impressive pace. 

The performance was remarkably enhanced by the lighting design of Alex Lewer, and the music of Tom Snell, the live DJ sharing Campbell’s stage. In addition to Ned Campbell’s stirring physicality, the sound and lighting design came together to make Johnno’s first experience taking illicit substances at a rave strikingly accurate. The atmosphere of an underground party was palpable. It felt as though we as the audience were there with Johnno, in the tent, in a field, surrounded by young people who probably just wanted to have fun, but instead found themselves in an act of political rebellion. Beats reminds us that our civil liberties are ours to protect, something each generation inevitably discovers for themselves. 

REVIEW: Is Dat U Yh?

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Tolu and the ‘Back of the Bus Queens’ take the audience on a trip filled with 90s nostalgia, commemorating the experiences of young back girls in 90s London

Tolu, Debz, Reena and Tia are the ‘Back of the Bus Queens.’ In this impressive piece, they take us on a nostalgic trip down memory lane, memorializing the experience of being a young black girl in South London in the 90s. This kaleidoscope of a play is full of song, dance, incredible athleticism, reminiscence, mind-blowing coordination, and overarchingly, astonishing performances. 

Writer and director dkfash did a phenomenal job coordinating this piece. Is Dat U Yh is beyond intricate and multifaceted, layering audio-visual details into the dialogue, movement that seems so natural it is incredible to know to it to be choreographed. Is Dat U Yh subverts expectations in every way it could. At no point is it possible to know what will happen next, but rest assured, it will be wonderful. The highs and lows of the characters’ lives are highlighted, jumping between space and time, physical theatre and monologues. The set pieces were transformed into an array of distinct places: the back of the bus, a park, various points throughout the city, a bedroom, and much more. Moreover, dkfash not only created characters that were specific and unique, but were simultaneously relatable. The actors were given the room to infuse their own experiences into that of the characters’ lives. 

The cast, made up of Adeola Yemitan, Antonia Layiwola, Rachael Ridley and Zakiyyah Deen, give astonishing performances. They move with lightning speed, physically exerting and exceptional amount of energy but somehow always remaining ready to launch into the next scene. The aspects physical theatre implemented were a remarkable feat to witness. They flow effortlessly between each other, zigzagging throughout the stage, not a fumble in sight. The exacting coordination of their dialogue made for scenes that moved quickly but kept you moving along with them. No matter how fast the pace, the audience was at no point left behind. The cast consistently kept us in mind, leading us down through the speedy road of 90s nostalgia. 

Sound designer Xana and lighting designer Jahmiko Marshall displayed excellent skill and creativity in their respective fields. Sound and lighting are an integral part of Is Dat U Yh, functioning as a piece of the narrative itself. It is sound and lighting that move the cast from one place to the next, that add colour to the stories. The minds of Tolu, Debz, Reena and Tia are rich and vibrant. Xana and Jahmiko Marshall’s work allowed for that vibrancy to be seen by all viewers. 

Is Dat U Yh leaves the audience laughing, cheering, screaming in delight, and maybe tearing up just a little bit.

REVIEW: 1884

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Rhianna Ilube and Coney’s collaboration of this immersive experience provides gentle provocations for its audience

The 1884 Berlin Conference, also known as the West Africa Conference, marks a pivotal milestone in the history of European colonialism in Africa. It is often neglected in history and in the UK – a country constantly shunning its own colonial history. Rhianna Ilube, together with Coney, a Charity specialist in immersive experiences, decides to retell its underpinning story through an innovative game-theatre experience. 

The audience, or more accurately the players, are invited to form temporary groups of six to seven members, who have no idea that they will nurture strong bonds together very soon. They are welcomed by the town’s MP, Toni (Ewa Dina), and DJ Marlowe (Jyuddah James), and a postwoman (Chusi Amoros), with whom the players will also find a peculiar but heart-warming connection not until the very last moment. Together with their group members, the players are asked to complete a series of activities that will gradually build up their identity and sense of belonging.

For the first half, the content and quality of the show is solely contingent upon the “performance” of its players: their imagination, originality and creativity. For the one I attended, the room was filled with laughter, hurrays and sounds of table-knockings, creating an illusion that it was indeed a party. It is not until a certain point – slightly hinted by DJ Marlowe starting to wear his sunglasses – that the players have to make certain decisions with their fellow group members. These decisions may divide or unite the community and for the night I attended, astonishingly the community reached a consensus even without negotiation. This unanimous agreement, both surprisingly and wittily, contributed to the next scene where Toni the MP came back to stage.

The first half is in general playful and cheering. However, I wonder if it could better resonate with its colonial context, or perhaps include more references to the Berlin Conference. From my own playing experience in the game, the first half felt more like a community governed by a UK local council regardless of race, instead of embedding the stark contrast between the colonisers and the colonised.  

It is a bit challenging to review the second half without revealing its twists and turns, as I don’t want to spoil the experience and potential revelations. What I can say is that the second half offers a much deeper emotional experience, though its nature may vary depending on the player’s perspective. For me, it was one of the uncanniest moments in my life as a theatregoer — if not the most. On one hand, it reinforced how vibrant and vital we once were, but at the same time, I felt a strong reluctance to accept the “fact” that we have been flattened, reduced, and misinterpreted as mere data – we became our own ghosts. “No, this shouldn’t be like that. I wasn’t like that. We were definitely not like that.” I screamed silently. Even I have a clear self-awareness thoroughly that this is just an immersive game show, I couldn’t help but letting my tears flow.

Fortunately, this is not the end. One thing I (dis)like about British theatre is always its gentleness. The prick and provocation against the audience are never too harsh or offensive, and even when they are, some “remedy” will commence shortly thereafter. The last moments of the show appear as such a cathartic process that leaves the players with a lingering sense of warmth, upliftment and a faint scent of hope. One more emotional strike, which I truly relish.

REVIEW: Algorithms

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A well-observed, jocular exploration of millennial loneliness

It is often said that we live in an age of unprecedented connection – with mobile phones, social media, and the news at our fingertips – and yet we have also never felt more alone. Algorithms explores this idea through the experiences of dating app employee Brooke (Sadie Clarke), who is about to turn 30 and tackling the dating scene following the end of a long-term relationship. Her overbearing mother is forcing her to have a joint wedding anniversary/30th birthday party, and her company has meeting rooms named after animals who mate for life (the Beaver Room, anyone?). Through this lens, Algorithms captures some very specific experiences of love, bisexuality and loneliness in the digital age.

Approaching dating like a “poorly paid side-job”, Brooke uses her company’s app to cycle through potential partners, who we meet through Sadie Clarke’s extended monologue. This conveyor belt of love drives Algortihms’ narrative forward, interspersed with crises of confidence and her familial obligations. Sadie Clarke plays Brooke with a nervous anxiety and desperate need for acceptance that feels both sharply observed and believably raw, sucking the audience into the narrative and generating audible gasps at key plot moments.

The script skewers societal expectations of female beauty and rom-com romances with charm, and tackles its more challenging themes with sharp wit. A particularly memorable exchange confronts the “bisexuals are just greedy” stereotype with a hilarious and incisive analogy built around eating M&Ms. This and other moments suck the audience into Brooke’s quest for love, contributing to a dramatic climax which is genuinely moving; testament to both relatable writing and skillful acting.

Comparisons with Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag are inevitable: an unashamed, no-holds-barred woman monologues about modern female experiences, throwing regular knowing looks to their audience. These coarser narrative elements always have a purpose, with descriptions feeling equal parts salacious and reperesentative. Algorithms distinguishes itself with a more socially awkward protagonist, and slightly more modern setting (although mentioning Google Plus already dates the script). Whilst it doesn’t do anything particularly unique in the space, the Fleabag style still feels fresh enough to be exciting.

Onstage, a sparse set is helped by excellent lighting and sound design, snapping into place at exactly the right moment to communicate character and scene transitions. Clarke’s shifting posture, mannerisms and accent all add to the immersion, making for an easy-to-follow narrative despite the large range of people she must embody. Although Clarke moves around the stage confidently, some more furniture and prop-work would lend some momentum to the show’s slower moments.

It would also have been good to see deeper analysis of the dating-app experience, which although the focus of the play’s title only really serves as background noise. There is more to say about the difficulty of finding a ‘perfect match’ online, and the way these decisions are made, but a script that otherwise provides strong social commentary spends little time on the app itself.

Overall, Algorithms is a funny, authentic-feeling monologue about loneliness in the age of always-on technology. Taking in themes of connection, painful break-ups, and societal expectations through a humorous lens is a winning formula, and is pulled off effectively here.

Algorithms plays at the Park Theatre until 11th May, with matinees on Thursdays and Saturdays. Tickets for purchase here.

REVIEW: Shepherd’s Warning

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Shepherd’s Warning covers a lot of heavy themes, all with an excellent Scottish wit and humour

Slàinte! Theatre is a Scottish and Irish Theatre Company based in London with the aim to champion Scottish and Irish creatives, giving them a platform to be seen and heard. Their newest contribution to London’s theatrical landscape is Shepherd’s Warning by Kari Hall. 

Set in a dystopian-esc Edinburgh, Shepherd’s Warning follows the story of three siblings, whose lives were torn apart after they entered the failing care system when their mother was deemed unfit to look after them, due to neglect caused by drug addiction. The play opens at their real mother’s funeral where siblings, Cass (Kari Hall) and David (Ross Barbour) are reunited for the first time in years. Cass is about to go off to Uni and David is making ends meet dealing drugs. We soon find out that there is a third sibling, Beth (Elle O’Hara), whom they manage to track down at the company she works at. This makes for an interesting interaction, as the audience have already met Fraser (Hamish Somers) (Bethany’s husband) as he buys from David, unbeknown to his wife. Bethany and Fraser have it all – the nice house, the good job – however Bethany’s past coming back to haunt her all at once puts a major strain on their relationship. The play goes through the triumphs and tribulations of adult sibling relationships, all whilst being unable to escape an unavoidable truth going on around them – the planet is getting hotter, the Maldives have disappeared, and the planet isn’t showing any sign of stopping and reversing the damage. 

The play takes a shift, when environmentally aware Cass ends up accepting a job at Fraser and Bethany’s company (an oil company) thinking she can make a change from the inside, whilst David has turned to Social Media to voice his anger at the climate crisis to the masses. Tensions come to a boiling point, when Cass finds out Fraser has been lying to her about the project they’ve been working on, and Arthur’s seat – a long extinct volcano – erupts causing death and destruction in Scotland. But of course, the oil company had plans in place, and Frazer tries to convince Bethany and their newborn to come with him on a flight to escape. Classically, the rich and powerful have an opportunity of a new life, leaving behind those less fortunate to suffer. Bethany decides to stay with her siblings, and Frazer escapes to freedom with their newborn baby. 

Shepherd’s Warning covers a lot of heavy themes, all with an excellent Scottish wit and humour. The play has a very complex and winding plot line, ensuring the audience never knows what is going to happen next. The dialogue is well written, fast paced and drops in just enough humour to keep the audience locked in. 

The performances across the board were very strong. Kari Hall’s, Cassie, was feisty, fiery and impassioned, and they had a real presence and tenacity to their performance. Ross Barbour delivered a fantastically raw performance, and brought superb comic timing with his portrayal of David. 

Overall, Shepherd’s Warning is a very engaging piece of work. It covers a lot of mammoth topics and themes, and as much as that makes for an interesting watch, I would consider sifting through, and seeing if there are any plot-lines that could be simplified, in order to let certain moments breathe for a bit longer. With strong performances all round, I would recommend this show. It has an important message at its core, and manages to encapsulate so many.

REVIEW: In Everglade Studio

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A smart, twisted, dark comedic drama of four people locked in a recording studio as they descend into madness

After a run at Edinburgh Fringe in 2023, In Everglade Studio is enjoying a short run at the Hope Theatre in April 2024. Written by Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller, and Co-Directed by Brimmer-Beller and Phoebe Rowell John. 

Set in 1974, In Everglade Studio is about four people who come together over a single night in a recording studio in London with the goal of creating a whole record’s worth of hits in a single evening, unaware that the materials in the walls of the basement studio are toxic, and driving them to insanity. The audience is informed of this by a brief audio track of a future documentary that plays to the room, suggesting bizarre and tragic events of the night we’re about to watch. 

Skye (Emily Moment) is a white English artist heavily influenced by American country music, brought to the studio by mixed-race music producer Clarke (Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller), alongside white session musician Baron, (Aveev Isaacson, possibly donning a scouse accent). The trio are shortly joined by Matilda (Hannah Omisore), a young black woman, invited by Clarke to provide creative input onto Skye’s music. Racism is core to the tension that drives the plot. As the chemicals in the walls seep into our characters minds, Skye’s non-racist facade begins to fade, and aggression evolves in baby steps away from passive and becomes more direct. The play is enthralling as we watch the drama unfold and the relationships deteriorate. 

Emily Moment portrays the slow descent from arrogant musician into something more sinister superbly well, through dirty looks, body language, and subtly barbed verbal jabs, there’s always a slight ambiguity to what’s going on in Skye’s head right up until the mask falls and shatters onto the ground. Opposite Moment, Omisore well encapsulates a shy, unassuming, almost meek Matilda, who doesn’t quite know how to own the talent she possesses because of the place society has put her as a black woman. Omisore then transitions the performance brilliantly into what is first strength in the face of adversity, then into a retaliatory madness as we reach the climax. Brimmer-Beller puts in a solid performance as Clarke, a man putting his desire to make money from the night in the studio ahead of his personal feelings on racism, though this was perhaps slightly undercooked, the extent of his internal conflict (or lack of) on this matter could have been developed more. Isaacson’s Baron serves as a mild foil to Skye, and provides quips of comic relief, and is performed well by Isaacson. 

Music is a key feature of In Everglade Studio, with whole songs performed intermittently during the play, though this was done as part of the plot as the cast were recording songs in the studio, rather than how a musical might see its cast break out suddenly into a number. The songs throughout are excellently written and composed by Brimmer-Beller and Isaacson, and well performed live on stage by the whole cast. They were smartly used to convey mood, or allowed the cast to use expression and movement to suggest the current state of relationships to the audience. The only critique that they were sometimes a bit long, and would slow the pacing, particularly early on in the performance. 

In Everglade Studio finishes in an unrecognisable place from how it begins, owing to the characters going insane, and exacerbated by the tensions of not really liking each other that much to begin with. The journey the characters go on over the fateful night is thoroughly entertaining, gently funny at times, but predominantly satisfying for a uniquely chaotic spin on a victim of racism overcoming the attitudes they’re faced with that seek to bring them down.

REVIEW: The Cord

Rating: 3 out of 5.

 A vivid reflection of the emotional struggles of parenthood

No one can teach you how to be a parent, and no one can warn you exactly how bringing a child into the world can affect the relationships that you already have. Ash (Ifran Shamji) and Anya (Eileen O’Higgins) are full of love for their newborn son, but as time passes Ash struggles to figure out where he fits. Sleepless nights and misunderstandings lead to rows and fractures in Ash and Anya’s marriage and his relationship with his mother (Lucy Black) in this new play written and directed by Bijan Sheibani. 

Set design by Samal Blak is simple yet effective: a raised carpeted square platform in the centre of the room. Oliver Fenwick’s lighting design defines the atmosphere, a stark clinical bright white emanating from a glowing square directly above the stage, which darkens in troubled scenes. The performance takes place in the round, an interesting choice which allows the actors to exercise more flexibility with their action on stage, but detracts from the intimacy of the space as you can clearly see every face in the audience across from you. 

One chair is set at each of the four corners of the stage, three are claimed by the actors, and one by lone-cellist Colin Alexander. Alexander’s musical accompaniment permeates the room, the music is poignant, and perfectly underscores the drama. Costume design, also by Blak, is simple and unfussy. Actors take to the stage barefoot, softened by the carpet. There are no props as the action relies on mime. The physicality of these mimed details is excellent, from O’Higgins cradling and breastfeeding the baby, to Black’s knitting (the best mime knitting I’ve seen, in all honesty). Beyond mime, the movement is expressive, Shamji twists in on himself in emotional turmoil, lying in a foetal position which reflects his child-like needs, and Black’s detail in the physical pains her character experiences is vivid. 

The writing is natural, realistic, reflective of real-life conversations. Irfan begins as a gentle, curious presence, his tension builds as dark intrusive feelings attack his self worth and he distances himself from his wife to protect his inner child – any therapist would have a field day with this character. The women in the play are forces to be reckoned with. Anya is rooted in her motherhood, defensive, protective, yet O’Higgins portrays her with a palpable vulnerability, a new mother who needs the support from her distant partner. Ash’s mother Jane (Black) grapples with her desire to be a present grandparent while respecting the family’s space. Memories of her own experiences with post-natal depression resurface and become a source of pain for both her and her son. This early relationship between Jane and Ash was an interesting device, but perhaps could have used some more exploration to deepen the relationship between the characters.

While all three actors had clear relationships the tension at times felt contained, arguments never seemed to reach the full height. People under such emotional strain are surely more impulsive, but the true hurt that someone can inflict on their loved ones in crisis was lacking. The Cord is an interesting and valuable insight into the mental health of a struggling father, though I do feel that a little more time on the female characters in this show could have really added depth to the relationships portrayed. 

The Cord is an honest portrayal of the challenges a family can face as they welcome a new child to the world. The play runs at Bush Theatre until 25th May. It’s nice and compact at just 80 minutes, and well worth a watch. 

REVIEW: USHERS: The Front of House Musical

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A lively, entertaining, and witty portrayal of life behind the scenes at the Front of House

If you believe there is only one play that takes place in the theatre each evening, let me tell you, there’s more. USHERS: The Front of House Musical presents, in a dynamic and humorous manner, the real-life drama unfolding on Stage Two: The Front of House.

USHERS premiered in 2014 at the Charing Cross Theatre, with music by Yiannis Koutsakos, lyrics by James Oban and Yiannis Koutsakos, and Book and additional lyrics by James Rottger. Ten years later, we get the privilege to be a part of the revival at The Other Palace.

This original play immerses the audience in a reality familiar to anyone working in the arts and entertainment world: artists with big dreams and hopes of “making it” in an industry that can be as rewarding as it is tough. The audience witnesses these narratives in a sensitive and sometimes hilarious way, empathising with each character as they share the challenges they face and the choices they must make to fulfil their dreams while also living a balanced and happy life. Moreover, they must navigate the expectations of their work, never forgetting to wear their best smile.

The music is thoughtfully crafted to convey the personal story of each character, reflecting their unique personality and background. The songs are an opportunity for enjoying the solid vocal technique and versatility of each cast member. Musical elements cleverly support the drama, joy, or awkwardness displayed in each scene, with subtle hints of comedy and references to well-known tunes that may evoke a wry smile.

Regarding the set and use of space, the stage is relatively small, situated in the corner of the studio with two fronts to face (lower and upper seats included). However, the creative team has made excellent choices in maximizing its potential to the fullest extent. They utilize the right selection of set elements, props, and audiovisual resources to tell the story. The choreography design for this musical not only showcases the cast’s triple threat talents but also succeeds in optimizing the available space effectively. The clever use of both on-stage and off-stage areas, particularly given the storyline’s focus on ushers, adds authenticity to the narrative and enhances the immersive experience.

The cast does an incredible work in portraying their characters through acting, dancing, and singing. The characters Rosie, played by Bethany Amber-Perrins and Robin, Daniel Page, in particular, stand out, demonstrating impeccable talent and comedic timing. The playful references to the theatrical and entertainment world, as well as updated gags in the dialogues, add an engaging touch to the plot.

The dedication put into creating a new and fresh theatrical production is always commendable, especially when it results in a play that offers laughter and moments of irony and wit. USHERS is an excellent choice for those seeking an enjoyable evening out and a fresh perspective on the theatrical world.

REVIEW: Boys On The Verge Of Tears


Rating: 4 out of 5.

An incisive exploration of masculinity in this innovative production


Sam Grabiner’s Boys On The Verge Of Tears is the latest recipient of the Verity Bargate Award, and you can see why it’s a winner. A tender, funny, often razor-sharp exploration of masculinity in many of its forms, it’s a play deserving of an audience. But once there, does it move them?

Grabiner is clearly a huge talent. Incisive observation is translated into well-crafted dialogue to create engaging, heartfelt characters and that perfect blend of believability and theatricality. Some scenes fizz and fly by, others take their time, but their strength is always in what links them and bubbles underneath. There are long monologues, intimate, natural duologues and slightly surreal group scenes, yet one always feels safe with Grabiner weaving the threads.

He’s helped by James MacDonald’s direction which impressively manages to maintain the show’s energy and keep the audience engaged, a difficult task given the fact the show traverses multiple locations with a single set—a men’s bathroom. That’s before we mention the ingenuity that abounds in some transitions. I’ll save the surprises of character’s appearing for your viewing. Ashley Martin-Davis’s set is delightfully functional for a restroom; indeed, every design element is perfectly pitched from Peter Mumford’s shifting of outside sunlight as time passes to Ian Dickinson’s snatches of conversations from the world behind the door.

The cast are a joy. With some lightning quick changes, they run the gamut of age and personality and cover over 50 characters with just the 5 of them—and one younger member. Matthew Beard, David Carlyle, Calvin Demba, Tom Espiner and Maanav Thiara all deserve their flowers for this performance, and it feels unfair to single any one of them out. One thing’s for certain: they have effortless chemistry and a playfulness which is infectious. Some particularly impactful moments also suggest a lived experience which only helps the evening.

Could it be ten minutes shorter? Probably, but so could most debuts. The ending is powerful but feels a tad indulgent, as if the final edit needed a sharper knife. On the walk away from the theatre, my friend and I found ourselves talking excitedly about the topics of the play but surprisingly unmoved at the final curtain. Impacted, sure, but not moved.

Mostly, though, it’s a success, and the kind of show one hopes a sixteen-year-old boy will go to see with his seventy-year-old father: a study of boys and men and their capacity for violence and softness. It’s certainly an often-uncomfortable reminder of the strength of our defences and our unwillingness (or fear) to overcome them, of the danger of shutting off our vulnerability. As we peer into this private space, the show reminds us that these conversations must not only happen behind closed doors.