Category: 3.5 stars

REVIEW: Trompe l’Oeil

Published on by Lucy CLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A visually inventive and playful political satire, Trompe l’Oeil is driven by strong performances and bold staging.

Trompe l’Oeil is now in its sixth year, having previously played Off Broadway and in London, and arrives in Manchester with a style that feels deliberately unconventional. Created by writer Henry Parkman Biggs and directed by Kate Salmon, the production blends musical theatre, circus and satire into a surreal take on American politics. It moves quickly and does not follow a traditional structure, instead jumping between characters and ideas in a way that feels more like a series of moments than a single storyline.

At the centre is Demi, played by Veronica Green, who loosely guides the audience through this distorted version of America during the early Trump presidency. The narrative is not always easy to follow, and there are points where it feels slightly unclear what thread to hold onto. That said, the shifting focus allows different characters to take centre stage, which keeps the energy varied throughout.

The performances are where the show really comes into its own. Caitlin Goman’s portrayal of Donald Trump is a highlight, striking a balance between caricature and something recognisable. It brings a sense of structure to the production when it is most needed. Phoebe Garr as Ivanka Trump is also a standout, delivering some of the funniest moments of the night with a performance that feels well judged rather than overplayed.

There is a strong visual element running throughout. Circus sequences, illusion and physical theatre are woven into the staging, creating a constant sense of movement. It gives the show a distinctive feel and adds to the unpredictability.

The writing shows creativity, particularly in the lyrics, with moments of clever wordplay and layered ideas. Not everything lands equally, but there is enough variety in tone and style to keep it engaging. One issue that does affect this slightly is the sound balance. At times the music sits higher than the vocals, which makes certain lines harder to catch and can make following parts of the show more difficult.

The humour is mixed but generally effective. Some moments land easily through performance and timing, while others feel more dependent on recognising specific political references. Even so, there is enough in the character work and staging to keep audiences engaged without needing to follow every detail.

Overall, Trompe l’Oeil feels ambitious and full of ideas, with a clear sense of playfulness in how it approaches its subject matter. It does not always prioritise clarity, but the strength of the performances and the visual staging give it plenty to enjoy. It is a production that leans into its own style and, for the most part, carries it off.

This show runs at Contact Theatre, Manchester, from 18 April to 2 May 2026, before heading on a wider UK tour with upcoming dates expected across Leeds, London and Brighton later in 2026.

REVIEW: Rocky Horror

Published on by Antonia ConstantinLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“Something in between nostalgia and initiation, the 50th anniversary screening felt less like revisiting a classic than being enthusiastically recruited into its ever-growing cult”

Few films have inspired the kind of enduring devotion as The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Fifty years after its release, the anniversary celebration at Dominion Theatre demonstrated that its status as a cult phenomenon remains entirely intact.

The sense of occasion began well before the doors opened. Outside the theatre, queues stretched along the street with audiences spanning generations: seasoned devotees in elaborate costume, curious first-timers, and those somewhere between the two. Frank-N-Furters, Janets, Magentas and Columbias mingled freely, while prop bags were distributed . It was clear this was not to be a conventional screening but a fully immersive celebration shaped as much by its audience as by the film itself. It often felt as though one was auditioning for a role rather than simply sitting in the audience

Proceedings were hosted by Larry Viezel, president of the official Rocky Horror fan club, who introduced four original cast members: Barry Bostwick, Patricia Quinn, Nell Campbell and Peter Hinwood. Their anecdotes lent warmth and perspective to the evening. Campbell recalled being discovered while tap-dancing on a table during her days working as a waitress in Chelsea, while Hinwood spoke cheerfully about leaving acting behind after playing Rocky to work in an art gallery, joking that he had been cast largely because he was “the only one who went to the gym in those days.” Quinn, as sharp and entertaining as ever, remembered asking her agent what the project was about, only to be told it was “something like a circus”, a description that, in retrospect, was not entirely inaccurate. A recorded greeting from Richard O’Brien concluded with the fitting instruction to “keep the rainbow banner flying.”

The film itself, presented in a polished 4K restoration, looked remarkably fresh. Its glam-rock palette, gothic production design and knowingly outrageous performances have lost none of their visual impact. Most electrifying of all remains Tim Curry’s entrance as Frank-N-Furter, greeted here with a sustained ovation that briefly overwhelmed the soundtrack. It was the night’s clearest reminder that Curry’s performance remains the production’s gravitational centre.

As ever, the screening was inseparable from the traditions that have grown around it since the mid-1970s, when audience members first began shouting responses back at the screen. Those rituals have since evolved into a highly choreographed form of participation: callbacks delivered with split-second precision, communal singalongs, fancy dress, glow sticks, newspapers, and enthusiastic use of the evening’s prop bags. Before the opening scenes had properly settled, much of the audience was already on its feet performing the Time Warp with impressive commitment.

A live shadow cast performed beneath the screen throughout, recreating scenes in real time. While their energy was admirable, the business occasionally felt distractingly broad and clownish beside the sharpness of the film itself. Yet this was a minor quibble in an evening where the focus was always collective joy rather than pristine presentation.

What the Dominion celebration captured so successfully was the unique relationship between The Rocky Horror Picture Show and its audience. Few films are still being rediscovered half a century on, fewer still are actively performed by those watching them. For long-time followers, this was the ultimate anniversary party; for newcomers, an initiation into one of popular culture’s most exuberant and welcoming traditions. With the production continuing on tour, Rocky Horror shows every sign of remaining gloriously indestructible.

REVIEW: Russian Roulette

Published on by clemencxLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An arresting piece on body and control that could leave a little more space to breathe

Killjoy Theatre’s Russian Roulette is an often unsettling one-hour work-in-progress that leans heavily into abstraction to explore eating disorders and systemic misogyny. It’s a piece rich in imagery and intention, even if not all of its ideas land with equal clarity.

The play opens with a visually arresting image: two women, dressed almost identically, lie on the floor in a yin-yang formation. What follows is a mirrored movement sequence that unfolds slowly from the ground up, immediately establishing a sense of duality. It soon becomes clear that the central figure, played by Venice Billia, is reflected by Christina Leitner, not as a separate character, but as her body. It’s a compelling conceptual choice, this physical externalisation of the self, and one of the production’s strongest ideas.

In contrast stands the “Friend,” played by Erica Gouveia who portrays a vivid figure in a sharp red dress, slicked-back short hair and sharp-winged makeup. She embodies a kind of twisted fairy-tale guide, reminiscent of a stepmother-like presence who oscillates between nurturing and patronising control. Her tone often carries that familiar saccharine condescension delivered with an edge of irritation, also masked by forced warmth. Gouveia handles this balancing act slipping between affection, exasperation and something more sinister. Her performance is one of the most assured in the piece.

Christina Leitner’s role as the Body is largely physical as for much of the play, she remains silent, communicating through movement shaped by Kristin Papathomidou’s choreography. When she finally breaks that silence in a solo moment combining dance with spoken text, it lands as one of the production’s most affecting sequences, giving voice to what has been suppressed throughout.

Venice Billia’s central performance captures the vulnerability and impressionability of a young woman shaped by external forces. She convincingly embodies innocence and a kind of learned submission, particularly in her interactions with the motherly figure. At times, however, the performance could push further as there are moments where a deeper emotional intensity or sharper shifts in resistance might elevate the stakes and make her internal conflict more palpable.

The staging is minimal and keeps the focus on bodies and symbolism. Along the front edges of the stage sit three hooded guards with their cagoules obscuring identity. They emerge towards the end of the play, alongside a figure representing a higher power, reinforcing the idea of unseen systems of control. Positioned near them are plates of fruit including pomegranates split open, limes squeezed and handled, which serve as visceral, recurring evocative imagery tied to the Body, consumption and destruction.

Conceptually, Russian Roulette is ambitious. The separation of the Body as its own entity and the game of Russian roulette is particularly effective, offering a clear lens through which to examine dissociation and control. However, the piece sometimes leans too heavily on this metaphor in a way that feels a little on the nose. There’s a strong foundation here, but it would benefit from pushing further so the themes can resonate with a more global nuance, which is something the play clearly aspires to. At present, many of its ideas feel rooted in a specific, individual experience and while that lends intimacy, it occasionally limits the broader reach of its commentary on systemic misogyny. By complicating its symbols and allowing for more ambiguity, the piece could open itself up to wider cultural and societal interpretations, making its exploration of control, beauty and the Body feel less prescribed and more universally affecting.

Still, as a work-in-progress, it shows clear promise. There is a boldness in its physical language and a willingness to confront difficult subject matter head-on. While it may benefit from further refinement, it’s a production that lingers, asking its audience to sit with discomfort rather than resolve it.

Russian Roulette’s run is now concluded and ran at the Golden Goose Theatre, London. 

REVIEW: Quiet Light

Published on by calumskuodasLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Set in an isolated lighthouse, these young actors give a strong performance as they battle with the ghosts of their past.

Set in a remote lighthouse, Quiet Light follows a lonely lighthouse keeper Ava (Elizabeth Anderson) struggles with the arrival of a marooned sailor and tries to cope with the arrival of marooned sailor Ray (Oisin Maguire). They are driven to madness by the ghosts of the deceased nearest and dearest in the form of Ava’s mother, Mandy (KC Thomas), and Ray’s wife, Cam (Anna Sylvester). Forced to decide whether to leave their tiny rock for good or stay with the shadows from their past, it’s a chilling and dramatic piece of theatre. 

The show’s greatest strength is its writing. The plot blends mystery with moments of irreverent humour and suddenly bursts of emotion as the secrets come flooding out. 

Their haunting seems like a clever play on the sirens that terrified sailors of old, and the theme of isolation at sea on a planet increasingly submerged under the waves is very prescient. Overall, it’s a highly creative piece of work, and writer Erin Hutton should be incredibly proud. However, I would like to see her work with director Rio Rose Joubert to improve the pacing of the storyline. The performers rattle through scenes as if they are in a hurry, which generally detracts from the ghostly drama and the lighthouse’s isolated feel. 

After a slightly nervous start, both Anderson and Maguire grow into their starring roles and play off each other well. Anderson does a great job of capturing the stress of the situation as things begin to unravel, but could show a greater range in the isolation and madness the characters face. 

Maguire performs admirably and captures the dark comedy and despondency of his role well, using his timing to deliver some killer lines. His interactions with his departed wife Cam are a strong point and provide a warm contrast to the chill sea air of the lighthouse. 

This is in a large part due to Sylvester, who gives the standout performance of the four; moving between loving and menacing, her physical performance is excellent, and it is a shame she is not used more.  

Finally, KC Thomas performs her ethereal, ghostly role well as she glides on and off stage and provides some of the loudest and most dramatic moments of the show. Her makeup and costume are another strong point, although a little more evil would not go amiss. 

I found the lighting and sound really added to the performance, especially as the staging is minimalist; Deep blue lighting and soft lapping of waves on an unseen shore intermingle with a half-sung sea shanty in another impressive display of creativity. It serves to make the most of the tiny space in the cellar of the Curtain’s Up pub in Baron’s Court. 

Overall, Quiet Light is an impressively strong production from a young team, and I look forward to seeing what the future holds for all involved. 

Quiet Light runs at Barons Court Theatre until the 18th of April. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Short & Mighty

Published on by dianaunam35Leave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An eclectic evening of bite-sized plays, ranging from delicious pieces to others still finding their flavour.

If Short & Mighty recalls Spain’s tapas culture with its show-hopping model, Instituto Cervantes proves the perfect host for this dynamic theatre event, in which five new short plays run in rotation across the building. Produced in collaboration with Untold Collectiv, this micro-theatre experience offers an evening of stories about power, each performance with a limited audience of fifteen people.

The micro-theatre model (indeed coined in Madrid) may echo immersive experiences or short play nights, but it has its own particularities. In Short & Mighty, audiences
are divided into groups with colour-coded programmes indicating the performances’ running order, room and time. Each group then journeys across the building’s four
floors, the atmosphere quiet and organised.

Unlike immersive theatre, the venue itself is not part of the world, and moving between performances feels like pressing a pause button. The brief expeditions between shows become a subtle bonding experience, as audiences find their way together and chat in whispers while the next show resets.

Every bite-sized story brings different flavours to the table: from surreal comedy to grounded realism, from tension-heavy drama to absurdist scenarios. Those with a blue programme begin with a strong opening in Spread, by Maya Owen (directed by Felipe Jara, performed by Helena Westerman, Isio Ighofose, and Bradley Tiffin). A queer young woman, a self-absorbed teenager and a mythical drag being find themselves stuck on a late-night train. Vibrant and witty, this surreal encounter explores personal space and nudges us to resist snap judgements, landing as a playful piece with a feel-good aftertaste.

Next comes Raquel Bartra’s Devolved (directed by Emma J Lever and performed by Farbod Montazeri and Esther O’Loughlin), in which a disillusioned politician is unexpectedly made Mayor of his hometown. None of his fellow townsmen seems to understand what that entails, except one: an old, power-hungry friend. A tale of
political blackmail, the dialogue traces a clear path but is short of dramatic drive. While it doesn’t quite ignite the turmoil faced by those in power, it remains a timely piece discussing the weight of leadership.

In The Target, by Diana Hognogi (directed by Raian Moore, performed by Sammy Attalah, David Hebb, and Shashank Sharma), two broke flatmates swim the deep web waters in a naïve attempt to make money, which spirals into a life-threatening enterprise. The piece is playful and packed with twists, and even if comedy and tension don’t fully land, its premise feels sharply relevant in times of financial
precarity.

Then follows Children of the Empire, by Jake Turner Chan (directed by Sofia Zaragoza, performed by Marisol Rojas and Tristan Pretty), in which a father and daughter drive through the city, quietly removing English flags. A powerful interaction neatly encapsulated, it evokes a political landscape in a deeply intimate way. The pair give truthful performances and achieve a moving 3D quality, their rebellious night ride revealing both disenchantment and hope. 

A gripping duo brings to life Jessica’s Trap, by Laura Bay (directed by Rebeca Pereira, performed by Durassie Kiangangu and Chloe Wigmore), in which a woman finds herself captive in a room with a colleague she barely knows; though he knows everything about her. Impactful from the start, the room holds a quiet, breath-held
tension as we trace the layered psyche of a man caught between devotion and obsession.

An eclectic evening with varied outcomes, Short & Mighty is perfect for the curious theatregoer. At its best, it truly hones proximity to magnify the stories’ resonance, and captures how brief moments can carry lasting weight. Together, these pieces offer a reminder of how unstable and shape-shifting power can be.

REVIEW:Dear Jack, Dear Louise

Published on by tgilfillan4512d47d4dLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A heartwarming love affair conducted through letters

Can you fall deeply in love with someone when you haven’t met them in real life? A seemingly modern dilemma. The two protagonists of Dear Jack, Dear Louise, however, meet and interact not through Instagram message, but through letters. As World War II rages, with the background whine of air raid sirens, Jack (Preston Nyman) and Louise (Eva Feiler) correspond back and forth and, in the process, fall in love. Directed by Simon Reade and written by Ken Ludwig, the play is inspired by the story of Ludwig’s parents, and his care and tenderness for their story manifests within the charm and intricacy of the writing.

The set is beautiful – simple but effective, a canopy of camouflage netting from which dangle letters. The characters voice the letters without ever looking at one another, starting with Jack’s stiff and awkward opening gambit to Louise. He sits writing the letter from where he is stationed in Oregon, as a military doctor and US Army Captain. Complete opposites in many ways, she is an actress and dancer pursuing her dreams in New York. Feiler bounds around the stage with infectious enthusiasm, articulating her joys and woes to Jack, feeling each emotion with utter abandon. It’s hard not to fall in love with her eagerness for life – and Jack does. Slowly he unfolds, responding to her curiosity first with bashfulness before its radiance is rewarded with vulnerability and openness. Nyman undertakes this journey with nuance and beautifully pitched humour, honouring the gentle comedy of the script.

Throughout the war they are separated, writing letters that range from recounting everyday mundanities, to the excitement of getting an audition, to the shattering and tragic events of war. The play is a heartwarming presentation of love against the background of the devastating extremities of the time, and the day-to-day bravery it takes to maintain a spirit of courage and hope. However, it feels lacking direction at times, with a plot that tends to meander rather than propel forward.

This lack of dramatic tension is exacerbated by the conceit of voicing the letters. At the beginning of the play, the letter voicing feels unexpected and is carried along by the skill of the actors. However, as the play progresses, the concept feels strained, with the lack of physical and face-to-face interaction becoming increasingly unsatisfying. Nonetheless, the excellent casting and the witty and evocative script make this an uplifting experience that portrays the beauty of slowly, quietly, unexpectedly, falling in love.

The play is at the Arcola Theatre until the 2nd May. Link to tickets here: https://www.arcolatheatre.com/event/dear-jack-dear-louise/

REVIEW: Seven Drunken Nights: the Story of the Dubliners

Published on by nancynewberryLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A perfect night for The Dubliners superfans, but lacked authenticity to properly engage newcomers

As described, ‘Seven Drunken Nights: the Story of the Dubliners’ is a showcase of brilliant Irish musicians performing some of the best loved Dubliners classics. Throughout the performance it was hard not to tap your toes to the well-known folk songs and become emotionally embroiled in the soulful ballads.

The performance is not quite a concert and not quite a musical but somewhere in between, regaling the audience with a high-level outline of how the Dubliners came to be. The best moments of this narrative were the anecdotes about the habits of members of the group, or the ways that they arrived at their different styles. It was these moments that engaged both lovers of the band and newcomers to the music to really grip the audience. The narrative was often punctuated by adverts from the time, a clever stylistic technique to bring the audience into the 60s when the Dubliners group was formed.

The challenge with the narrative, was that it was very high-level and whilst it gave a flavour of the story, there could have been more of the witty anecdotes that really brought it to life. Given that the narrative was intermixed with songs, it was not memorable enough to create a strong thread throughout the show. Adding in more of the real life stories would have brought more fun to the tale and improved audience engagement.

The performers were brilliant. Their instrumental work was highly skilled. The variety in style and tone of their voices meant individually they stood up to the size of the theatre. The skill however, was that in spite of the big difference in the sound of their voices, the blend when they were singing together was beautiful. Given how often they were performing group numbers and particularly when harmonising, it was impressive to get such a natural blend. The choice and order of the songs was well-balanced. Often a silly drinking song would move on to a soulful ballad and the ability of the cast to bring the audience through these transitions was well-done.

The challenge with this performance was the lack of chemistry between the group when onstage. The point of the show was about a group who had been together for years and this didn’t come across between the cast. It was unclear whether the cast were playing the band, or simply there to perform the songs as themselves. Where there were moments that they let loose and had silly interactions, the audience warmed to them and given the nature of the music was often wild and fun, it would have been nice to see this through the actions of the cast and not just relying on the strong vocal and instrumental performances. The reserved nature also meant that some of the songs felt a bit too polished to be the types of songs that were sung in the pubs of Ireland. A bit more authenticity and personality shining through would have taken this from a good show to a great show.

The Dubliners will be on tour at various UK locations until the 24th May 2026. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me

Published on by Flora HemmingwayLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“Fresh, funny, original – a pacey ride through a raunchy yet wholesome tale in a naughties’ Soho knickershop.”

Bridget Jones is on the money. Yet this glitzy mayhem was delightfully original – through a string of clichés not a single stale note. The show is a glimpse behind the scenes and into the window displays of this notorious knicker emporium. Written by and starring Mollie Blue, we primarily follow’ agent’, a plucky young saleswoman who’s clearly fed-up with double standards and male behaviour. She proclaims she will henceforth ‘live like a man’. Through a series of scenes within the store we are introduced to her colleague and flatmate ‘bimbo’, played by Poppy Taplin, and ‘the boy’ [working] next door, Ryan Dickson. Bimbo is the hilarious sidekick, brimming with laugh out loud physical comedy that leaves you wanting more. ‘The boy’, with whom they flirt in exchange for taking out their bins, provides a contrast of normality and sincerity in his burgeoning friendship with ‘agent’.  Dickson also plays ‘the pervert’ who’s regular phone calls to the shop punctuate the story, in which he unpoetically but suggestively discusses the manikins’ clothing arrangements for his own pleasure.

Mollie Blue’s continually sharp-as-a-knife writing and stellar performance as ‘agent’ is at the center of this story. Her stamina and wordplay is delightfully impressive. Although we are clearly meant to be whisked through the glamorous chaos of this hidden sexy but unsavoury world, the pacing felt overly rushed at times. The disembodied characters passing through the shop remained frustratingly mysterious, although this is perhaps in the nature of retelling true lived experiences without wishing to overembellish a story that is not your own.

The chatty nature of ‘agent’s monologues were clearly relevant to her characterisation, however perhaps greater contrast or pauses, allowing lingering and confrontation with the audience could boost the story’s impact. At times it felt a little like hurtling down a hill in a car with no breaks, although slower-paced and more genuine scenes such as with ‘the boy’s’ heartfelt revelation and the final scene concluding ‘agent’s interaction with the ‘pervert’ were effective. 

Taplin as Bimbo had brilliant comedic timing and physicality – very much the stereotypical sidekick but outrageously so with a unique weirdness. Her relationship with the manekin was clever and intriguing, but could have been developed further. Dickson switched well between the sweet demeanour of ‘the [nice] boy’ quietly in love and the unseemly masculinity of the pervert on the phone. 

The set and costumes worked really well, and married with the movement, was exceptionally suggestive and effective storytelling – particularly the deftness of Blue un/redressing at the top of the show.

The movement, by Daniel Monday, was fantastically choreographed for great visual storytelling. 

The set was effective and transportive as was the lighting and sound design, which fit well within the creative limitations of a black-box space. The soundtrack depicted well the nostalgia of the pre-tiktok, pre-recession world, although they were the only signposts of note to the time setting referenced in the play description. There was some extra movement between sequences that felt flappy and distracting, and sometimes the recognisable lyrics were a little too present amongst such a fast-paced, word-heavy text.

If the intention was to depict previously unseen impressions of 2007 ‘agents’ and how the pursuit of sex, power and money is a lonely experience, then it certainly did its job in a hilarious and fun way.

Full of talent, ‘Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me’ could be even stronger with a little more confidence in holding the audience’s questioning gaze, revelation and a pinch of polish. All in all, a fun, frivolous and thoughtful night out.

REVIEW: Do You Know Where To Go From Here? 

Published on by clemencxLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Stephanie Renae Lau mines emotional clutter for an honest unpacking of grief and questions of self.

Stephanie Renae Lau’s Do You Know Where To Go From Here? is an introspective and comic solo piece that sits between confessional storytelling and theatrical experiment.

The show follows Sophie, an autobiographical stand-in for Lau, as she digs herself out from beneath a mountain of clothes, an evocative and visually striking metaphor for emotional baggage, migration and unresolved grief. As she works her way through the pile, she unpacks questions of identity, faith and the uncertainty of adulthood with a candid and often disarmingly honest voice that feels both personal and widely relatable. Lau traces Sophie’s journey from her early twenties living under a politically tense and protest-ridden homeland to her present-day life in London where she balances part-time jobs and the challenges of adapting to a new country. Central to the story is Sophie’s ongoing grief over her mother’s death a decade earlier, which lingers alongside the uncertainties of adulthood. 

Lau’s writing is at its strongest in its balance of humour and emotional weight. She leans into the strange absurdities that coexist with grief, allowing moments of physical comedy and self-aware humour to cut through the heaviness without undermining it. This interplay keeps the piece engaging and giving the audience space to laugh while still sitting with its more reflective ideas.

The staging plays a crucial role in shaping the experience. The intimate setting creates a sense of closeness that the piece relies on, with Lau frequently moving through the audience and breaking the fourth wall. This interaction adds immediacy and a sense of shared space, aligning with the show’s themes of communal experience. However, while these participatory elements are compelling in theory, they don’t always feel fully realised in practice. At times, the show seems to gesture toward something more immersive than it ultimately delivers, leaving the audience’s role slightly underdefined.

Visually, the simplicity is highly effective. Lau’s costume, jeans and a T-shirt, grounds the piece in an everyday realism, allowing the focus to remain on the storytelling. Meanwhile, the ever-present pile of clothes becomes a versatile and imaginative device: garments are continuously repurposed into props such as a phone and bicycle handlebars, highlighting  both the creativity of the staging and the central idea of reinterpreting and reshaping the things we carry with us.

Lau herself is magnetic throughout with a natural charisma that draws the audience into Sophie’s internal world. Even when the narrative meanders or feels structurally loose, her presence holds the piece together. It feels less like watching a neatly resolved story and more like being invited into an ongoing process of questioning, sorting and making sense of things that resist easy answers.

The piece resonates most strongly in its quieter, more reflective moments. In its exploration of ambiguous grief, it finds a poignant emotional core. It doesn’t attempt to offer solutions or tidy conclusions, instead asking the audience to sit with uncertainty and consider what they might choose to hold onto or let go.

This is a promising and compelling work that still feels like it’s evolving. With a tighter structure and a more confident integration of its participatory ambitions, it has the potential to become something truly distinctive. As it stands, it’s a brave and often affecting piece that lingers in the mind, much like the questions it dares to ask.

Do You Know Where To Go From Here? ran at The Space Theatre, London, until Saturday 4 April 2026.

presented by Alex Pearson Productions in association with Glass Splinters;

REVIEW: Edward II

Published on by leahjLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“This creative, engaging, and accessible production of Marlowe’s queer historical tragedy dives into themes of loyalty, duty, and betrayal.”

In this stripped-back production, Alex Pearson Productions brings Marlowe’s stirring tragedy to life; this small cast and intimate theatre setting places the focus squarely on the human relationships at the heart of this political drama. Marlowe’s play, inspired by historical texts, explores the downfall of the 14th- century English king Edward II in a rebellion largely driven by Edward’s unrelenting preference for his ‘favourite,’ Piers Gaveston, and Edward’s neglect of his governing duties. This all-female cast adds aunique texture to a story traditionally about the love between two men.


With just six actors presenting a play which has over thirty roles in its original form, each actor (besides Natalie Harper as Edward II) takes on a handful of characters to populate the many moving parts of Edward II’s court and the various groups plotting against him. Clear and consistent costuming choices by designer Eve Oakley, as well as some well-utilised accents, helped make each character easily identifiable even as several of the actors swapped between four different roles throughout the show. This cast also has a strong grasp of Elizabethan language; their clear, natural, and emotional delivery of Marlowe’s lines made a complex plot very accessible.

Harper’s performance as Edward II was most powerful in the moments when her royal composure was allowed to slip and reveal Edward’s true emotions–from rage at the mistreatment of Gaveston to fear and eventually despair as Edward faced his fate. Elinor Machen-Fortune brought a lively versatility to her performance as Gaveston, with confidence verging on arrogance as Gaveston faced off with the English lords, melting into a more tender intimacy during more romantic scenes with the king. Machen-Fortune’s dynamic delivery of each phrase truly brought Marlowe’s poetic language to life. Alison Young brought a sweet, demure energy to the cast-aside Queen Isabella, and Srabani Sen was chillingly sinister as the calculating Mortimer. Victoria Howell’s expert grasp of pacing and ability to command the stage made each of her characters memorable–especially the scheming Spencer–and Emma Louise-Price added some
necessary moments of light relief with well-placed comic timing.

Hannah Clancy’s sound design and Steve Lowe’s lighting added atmosphere to a minimalist set, with some especially immersive moments in the Kenilworth Castle dungeons, with a dripping, echoing soundscape and cool, murky lights. Alex Pearson’s direction trimmed Marlowe’s text down to a 90- minute runtime, though there were a few moments in which the pacing of the scenes seemed to lull slightly, especially in a few moments when several characters delivered lines facing entirely out towards
the audience. While this formal blocking can sometimes help evoke a courtly atmosphere, at times it seemed to defuse the tension between the characters onstage. The choice to trim down the cast also created one or two awkward moments in which a scene might have benefited from having some soldiers nearby to escort some troublemakers away, but also offered some opportunities for new and exciting
thematic explorations. The doubling of Gaveston and Lightborne felt particularly meaningful, as it draws links between both men’s integral roles in Edward’s fate. Overall, Pearson has crafted a moving and accessible version of this iconic tragedy, which will draw in both newcomers to the world of early modern drama and seasoned Marlowe fans alike.

Edward II is running at the Jack Studio Theatre in Brockley, at 7:30 PM Tuesdays through Saturdays until 18 April 2026.