Category: 3 star

Image credit: Jamie Zubairi

REVIEW: An Evening Without Kate Bush

Published on by violethowsonLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

“A wonderful celebration of the artist’s idiosyncratic brilliance”

An Evening Without Kate Bush is more Kate Bush-centric than the title might suggest (or maybe it’s exactly as Kate Bush-centric as the title might suggest). Created by Sarah-Louise Young and Russell Lucas, and performed solo by Young, An Evening Without Kate Bush is a fittingly eccentric tribute act to the fabulous artist (she’s not dead). 

It is also less of a narrative piece than one might hope, though it is never dull. Young dons an array of wigs and leotards – and some other fabulous costumes – and performs many of Bush’s hits, with an impressive vocal likeness. 

After its sellout Edinburgh run, An Evening Without Kate Bush debuts its now two-act version at the Underbelly Boulevard. I do not know if audience interaction was also a London addition, but there was much of it. Had I read the content warnings beforehand, I would have protested my front row seat. Nevertheless, Young is a delightful performer and chairperson of the Fish People (the cult of Kate Bush fans). 

Visually, it’s a compelling piece too, dramatic in its lighting and wonderfully ridiculous in its movement. Audience is united with artist as we are thrown lovingly from Cloudbusting to The Man with the Child in his Eyes, to, of course, Running Up that Hill. But Young doesn’t just celebrate the classics. She also unearths B-Sides and Bootlegs, including Don’t Give Up, with Peter Gabriel. On top of this, Young reimagines a few of the classics: having learnt of the Russian wrath at the pronunciation of babooshka, she reworks the song of the same name and sings it in Russian. It’s impressive stuff, especially if you nurse a particular penchant for pedanticism, which I do. 

What it lacked in story, it made up for in charm. If one is not already a Fish convert, they’ll likely leave this show realising they knew – and liked – far more Kate Bush than they might have assumed. As with all one-person shows, this piece is never not a showcase for Young, yet she is delightfully self-deprecating as she dons a wedding dress and screeches at Heathcliff. 

If you don’t at least vaguely like the work of Kate Bush, this show may not be the church to throw yourself at. But if you do, it is a wonderful celebration of the artist’s idiosyncratic brilliance. Theatre waxes lyrical about immediacy and intention: ‘why now?’ is a favourite phrase for anyone with dramaturgical aspirations. The rejuvenation and appreciation of Kate Bush’s work may not seem a desperate societal or theatrical need. But anything which seeks to memorialise and pass on art and its legacy ought to be encouraged and applauded. 

An Evening Without Kate Bush plays at the Underbelly Boulevard until 26th April. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Three Men

Published on by Josh BerningerLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Dramatically varied but oftentimes clunky, Three Men’s storybook aesthetic and charming performance are highlights in this otherwise slightly lopsided narrative. 

Qi Liu plays Fanghua, a lonely shopkeeper who presides over a small but seemingly endless convenience store in Beijing. Through her eyes, we see a serious of interactions she has with three mysterious customers over the course of a month. As she recounts these stories, Fanghua begins to fantasise, re-enacting the encounters in dramatic fashion, taking on her love of television films and letting them play with her memories. Dramatic lighting changes and an evocative score weave us through this story-book tale. Directed by Shan Ng with assistance from Melissa Cheng. 

Liu’s performance as Fanghua is very well played. She has a great deal of charm and charisma which is needed in a monologue of this length, and she keeps the piece moving at a steady pace. There are moments where Liu is having to keep conversation with an empty space, (other character’s voices are played through speakers) and she succeeds in making these interactions believable. In the more melodramatic movie-like moments, she fully embraces the silliness and dives headfirst into the serious of cliché’d tableaux with passion. The performance is not sleek by any means, but the sheer joy that Liu brings to the role is enough to keep the audience engaged. 

The set design by Joyce Hanjue Zheng is playful and detailed, and the thrown-together cardboard style; particularly the cardboard microwave, provides a good backdrop for a story where ‘construction’ takes a central theme. The lighting by Summer Xue is suitably over-the-top when it needs to be and varied enough to avoid stagnation. 

Where the play lacks is in its core narrative and conceit. There is real promise in writer Chuyuan Cai’s attack, a story adapted from the work of Yifeng Shi. The more jovial moments of the piece are well produced, with some laugh-out-loud one liners. However, the play fails to deliver the emotional flipside that it clearly seeks to do and the ending, though an emotional left-turn, does little to move the audience in any meaningful way. The final act feels a little rushed, perhaps due to time constraints, and maybe more thought could be given to revising and reducing nearer the start. 

This is an ambitious and intriguing play, and with refinement it could truly shine as a piece of original storytelling. However, though well-made and performed, Three Men’s payoff is not worth the sum of its parts. 

Three Men played at the Courtyard Theatre from 11-12th April. 

REVIEW: Three60 World’s Evolution

Published on by Will OsbonLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

A highly skilled and thrilling dance showcase that struggles greatly to deliver on its storytelling promises.

After its initial Glasgow showcase in 2022 and its reimagining in 2025, Scottish Street Dance troupe Three60 is now taking “World’s Evolution” on tour. This dance fusion show promises multiple styles of dance as well as a story that follows the journey of humanity. But does it succeed in this mission? It’s a mixed bag.

There is no denying the ability of these performers. From popping, krumping and tutting, to African and Caribbean dance, the technique is off the charts here. This show is stuffed with styles, and the group does a great job at alternating the pace and energy of the show as these styles fluctuate. Performances here are stronger when the group performs as a collective. Earlier sections of the show relied on duets, solos or disconnected sequences, where the group feels more like performers running in and out of scenes as opposed to a collective telling a story together. These sections are still strong, but the final three songs pull together some fantastic footwork and synchronicity that feels like the shows cherry on top. In part this felt like a wonderful finale, but it also, in part, felt like a missing component only realised in the last ten to fifteen minutes. 

The show was structured into a series of episodes, krump heavy nearer the beginning and through the middle, but with more variation around the edges. While the arrangement of episodes feels somewhat off, the show still succeeds in delivering eye-catching set pieces. This is done through design elements and embodied choreography that discretely communicated new ideas. One performer adopted a mother earth style costume and other performers adopted large duster / trench coats, indicating individuals shrouded by a dystopian existence. On the other hand, performers at one point danced in a party-like setting with intermittent mimed drinking interspersed throughout, indicating a struggle with alcohol and substances. In general, Three60’s use of costume, small props and choreography, as well as lighting choices, communicated plenty about the themes and ideas of World’s Evolution; technology, desire, female solidarity, loneliness, and more. These were expansive episodes, some more successful than others, the most visceral by far being the sequences covering themes of loneliness and female solidarity.

While these dancers are highly skilled and a thrill to watch, and while certain design elements add some meaning to the dances, much of this structure is decidedly communicated through repetitive royalty free footage, voice samples and visual text. This separates up each dance sequence and is a common practice in Hip-Hop showcases. Unfortunately, these video elements and samples do not add anything to that which the choreography communicates readily on its own. Because of this, images of nuclear bombs and ticking clocks, sporadic text reading “Love”, “War”, “Poverty”, and even a distracting voice line from The Dark Knight Rises, feels rather superfluous. 

What “World’s Evolution” promises is a highly technical dance fusion show and a journey through humanity and a story of the world. Indeed, if you are looking for the former, you will be pleased. These performances are highly skilled and choreography does a perfectly good job at communicating its ideas. For the latter, what we instead receive are episodes that embody themes and ideas only. For a dance showcase, this is realistically still quite the accomplishment. But any promised attempt at coherent narrative is unfortunately lost. Perhaps some more focus in the future on using inter-scene video elements in order to lay out a narrative, one which cannot be (and is not already) communicated through the dancers, will help deliver on this promise and ultimately elevate the piece further. 

REVIEW: The Spectacular

Published on by paddycardwellLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

 An energetic and often funny play with a vital subject at its core, yet one which struggles to balance satire and seriousness.

For most schoolchildren in the United Kingdom, the history of armed conflict on the island of Ireland was not on their curriculum. This absence of education on Irish matters – dating back to the Anglo-Norman invasion of 1169, all the way through to the Good Friday Agreement of 1998 – is exactly what Séan Butler’s The Spectacular seeks to correct. Whilst this intention is certainly a noble one, the play unfortunately fails to give this important subject matter the attention and sincerity it deserves. 

The play consists of two young, dissident Republicans from Dublin named Jake and Naomi who insist they are “not the IRA”. The play follows them as they workshop different methods, or ‘spectaculars’, of Irish Nationalist activism in order to end the ongoing British occupation of the six counties that make up Northern Ireland. These vary wildly from the relatively benign and humorous to the harrowing and terroristic. As the drama progresses, a rift begins to form between the pair and they are forced to interrogate each other’s, as well as their own, motivations for their activism. They soon realise the profound differences in their attitudes towards the cause and end up reckoning with the fact that not all republicanism is made the same. 

The play is written and directed by Butler, whose kinetic lighting, sound and stage design give the drama a frantic, sometimes abrasive feel which fits well with the theme and provides funny and slapstick moments. The actors do a great job balancing the comedic with the serious and the screen behind the performers provides entertaining slideshows depicting both important Irish history and pop culture. 

However, the writing and development of these characters sometimes feels muddled. For example, Naomi is presented to the audience in the first three quarters of the play to be the more measured and intelligent half of the duo. It is even said that she left Dublin to study for a PhD at an English university and evidently serves as the brains to Jake’s brawn. However, her character arc seems to take a jarring 180-degree turn in the final act of the play, as her ‘spectaculars’ are revealed to be more brutish and ill-conceived than anything that the gullible and simpler Jake had thought of. The ensuing final moments of the play felt rushed and out of place with the rest of the piece. 

This unevenness extends to the play’s broader ambition. Butler clearly wants to use humour to expose British ignorance of Irish history, and there are moments where this lands, such as the slideshow sequences and quips about the British Royal Family which create a sharp comic rhythm that the rest of the play struggles to sustain. But too often the satire drifts into caricature. The wilful ignorance of the British population being lampooned is so broad and cartoonish that it never quite implicates the audience in the way it needs to. For audiences who already know the history, the treatment will feel shallow. However, for those who don’t, it may leave them with the impression that they have a better understanding now. 

The Spectacular is by no means without merit. It is energetic, often funny, and its performers are committed throughout. The decision to involve audience members was a welcome one, which provided moments of spontaneity and unpredictability that loosened the tension between the play’s heavier themes.

The play’s run at the Camden People’s Theatre has unfortunately coincided, entirely by chance, with a reminder of just how much weight this subject still carries. In recent weeks, a dissident republican group calling itself the New IRA attempted a proxy bomb attack in Lurgan, forcing a kidnapped delivery driver at gunpoint to a nearby police station with an explosive device in the boot of his car. The timing is unfortunate and certainly nothing that the play’s team could have anticipated. But it serves as a sobering illustration of why the topic of violent republicanism deserves more than a comedic framework can comfortably hold.

REVIEW: Lifeline

Published on by calumskuodasLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

“This medical musical about the invention of penicillin doesn’t live up to its promise.”

Lifeline is an ambitious musical braiding together two stories: the life of Sir Alexander Fleming after his groundbreaking discovery of penicillin in 1928, and a contemporary love story set on a hospital ward.

The audience follows Fleming (Alan Vicary) through his later years, grappling with the death of his wife while sounding early warnings about antibiotic resistant diseases. Running alongside this is the story of musician Aaron (Nathan Salstone) and his ex-girlfriend Jess (Maz McGinlay), a paediatric doctor. When Aaron falls ill with a bacterial infection, their relationship is rekindled at his bedside.
Part period drama, part 21st-century romance, Lifeline falters under the weight of these parallell storylines. The thematic link – the legacy of penicillin and the threat of its decline – is clear enough, but the audience is left until well into the second half to draw a meaningful connection between past and present.

This structural disconnect has a knock-on effect on pacing. At two and a half hours, including the interval, the show is overly long. The modern love story, meanwhile, feels underwritten, and perhaps even unecessary, with the audience given little chance to invest in the relationship.

It’s a missed opportunity, especially when the show does gesture towards some compelling themes. Flashbacks to Fleming’s work in a First World War field hospital are among the most powerful moments, and offer more immediate drama. It is hard not to feel that a version of Lifeline less reliant on a contrived modern romance might have delivered a sharper piece of theatre. It’s a shame for bookwriter Becky Hope-Palmer, whose script conveys an obvious passion for the cause, but is overly ambitious in her aims.

Fortunately, the show does have several strong performances to hang its hat on. The inclusion of a chorus of real-life doctors, nurses, and researchers who work with antibiotics is an amazing touch that elevates the stakes beyond the fictional narrative. At the end of the show, they are invited to address the audience directly, which makes for a incredibly moving finale and an amazing tribute to those on the front lines of healthcare.

Alan Vicary delivers an accomplished portrait of Alexander Fleming, capturing the doubts and quiet anxieties of the dour Scotsman with real nuance. It’s a measured, believable performance that anchors the period sections. Opposite him is Kelly Glyptis, who brings a likeable presence as colleague and love interest Amalia Voureka. Glyptis inhabits the impatience and frustration of trying to reach the “man behing the mould” with an assured performance, and generates many of the show’s big laughs.

Nathan Salstone brings charisma and versatility to Aaron – singing, dancing and playing guitar with real aplomb. He convincingly inhabits the role of a rising musician, and his jangly acoustic numbers and impressive voice are a great lead for the first half’s musical numbers.

Maz McGinlay, opposite him as Jess, gives a considered performance, though it occasionally lacks the emotional weight needed to fully anchor her part of the story.
Helen Logan, as Aaron’s mother, threatens to steal the show in ever scene she appears. Her performance is emotionally rich and expressive, elevating the characters around here and highlighting her drastic underuse in the first half.

The large cast shares the stage effectively, with well-choreographed ensemble numbers that make impressive use of a relatively small space. Robin Hiley has done an impressive job with the musical numbers, which move the story forward meaningfully and are catchy despite their somewhat sterile subject matter. Along with Musical Director Neil Metcalfe, he also createss a fantastic score with five other talented musicians sitting on raised balconies beside the stage.

There is, undeniably, real heart and gusto here, along with an important message and a central role for real-life heroes. But despite these strengths, Lifeline never quite coheres into something truly powerful. Given the weight of its subject it makes that shortfall all the more disappointing .

Lifeline is running at Southwark Playhouse Elephant until 2nd May 2026.

REVIEW: In The Print

Published on by Mark LloydLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

“An engaging production that prints the legend, but struggles to find the soul of the story.”

Following their dive into 1970s high-stakes politics with The Gang of Three, writing duo Robert Khan and Tom Salinsky return to the 20th century with In The Print. This time, the battlefield isn’t Westminster, but the press rooms of Fleet Street. The play charts the seismic Wapping dispute, where Rupert Murdoch took on the formidable print unions and fundamentally reshaped the British media landscape.

The script itself is undeniably tight and maintains a pacey energy that keeps the production moving along. Khan and Salinsky have a clear ear for sharp, punchy dialogue, and there is an evident effort to infuse the proceedings with humor. However, the production often feels like a play designed for an exclusive club of political aficionados. Much of the comedy relies heavily on a pre-existing syllabus of 1980s political trivia, and the jokes frequently fall flat for those lacking that specific historical context. At one point, a recurring gag involving a trade union leader reciting poetry veers into the surreal. While this is presumably intended as a nod to a real-life eccentricity, it feels jarring and alienating for audience members who weren’t there to witness the original events. For those born after the era depicted, many of the play’s satirical targets and specific character references remain frustratingly elusive.

While the historical narrative is undoubtedly compelling, the show struggles to bridge the gap between factual chronology and genuine character development. The play frequently prioritizes the “what” of history over the “why” of the human experience. We witness characters make massive, life-altering decisions, yet these shifts occur with little psychological foundation. The script seems to assume that because these events happened in reality, they do not require further explanation on stage. Consequently, we see precious little of the internal conflict or the difficult deliberations one would expect from such monumental turning points. The characters often feel like passive observers caught in the slipstream of history, acting as if events are simply happening to them rather than being driven by their own personal ambitions or fears.

The production is bolstered, however, by a cast that brings a great deal of commitment to the stage. While the roles themselves may not offer the deepest opportunities for nuance, the actors provide strong, grounded performances. Alan Cox is particularly effective as Rupert Murdoch, imbuing the media mogul with a chilling, quiet sense of menace that anchors the play’s central tension. Opposite him, Claudia Jolly gives a fierce and commanding performance as the militant union leader Brenda Dean, playing off Cox with impressive energy. Meanwhile, Alasdair Harvey offers an amusingly accurate impression of Andrew Neil; he successfully manages to capture the vocal mannerisms of the editor without ever allowing the performance to cross the line into cartoonish parody.

Visually, the production is well-served by its staging. A simple, static set allows the audience’s attention to remain entirely focused on the dialogue and the performances, and the costuming is effectively evocative, grounding the show firmly in the aesthetic of the 1980s.

In conclusion, In The Print is a solid, well-performed piece of dramatized history, yet it seems to lack that elusive spark that provides a truly urgent reason for its existence. Beyond simply recounting an interesting story from the recent past, the play’s own point of view remains somewhat unclear. It tells the story efficiently, but it fails to say something new or profound about the mechanics of power. If you are already well-versed in the history of the 1980s newspaper industry and would like to see these events dramatized in an entertaining, straightforward fashion, this is absolutely the show for you. However, if you are not already familiar with the primary movers and shakers of that era, you might find that reading a standard Wikipedia article on the Wapping dispute offers an equally compelling, if less theatrical, experience.

In The Print is playing at the Kings Head Theatre 1st April – 3rd May. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Chaos

Published on by violethowsonLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

A slick, frenetic scratch night blending a bizarre array of stories

Chaos at the Pleasance Theatre is an innovative and slick version of a scratch night. From Long Nights Productions (Jack Medlin, Theo Collins, and Sarah Chamberlain), Chaos consists of nine performances, blended together, in a cabaret-esque setting. It’s certainly ambitious, and it’s unusual, even for a scratch night.

Naturally, given its context as a scratch night, the pieces themselves vary drastically in quality. It’s a little challenging to comment on the overall theatrical experience because each piece is so disparate from the others; the challenge is to shield yourself from the tonal whiplash. And there’s no unifying theme – despite chaos, I suppose – but chaos is not a conceit in and of itself.

The show opens with one woman pouring vodka into a carton of orange juice, before she is harassed by the door, and watches as two women drag in a body bag. Quickly, the stage setup is pushed about, and so begins a piece about a child and an obsessive neighbour (also a child). At some point, a monologue was delivered from the perspective of a vengeful Scottish toilet. Then we were whisked to the peak of a mountain where a bunch of queer youths stood in line for a Berghain-esque club, just with the added peril of being atop a mountain. There was also some attempt at Clown concerning a series of backpacks.

Some of the writing was accomplished: I enjoyed Barney Doran and Anna Fenton-Garvey’s performance and writing as the ruthless non-binary clubbers. And the four women sharing pastries in their hostage situation was a highlight. However, as an overall theatrical event, it struggles to captivate. Without any perceptible binding conceit, it’s a struggle to invest yourself in any of the pieces or gain any sense of pattern recognition. And in the absence of thematic unity, the context of ‘chaos’ loses any architectural meaning.

I would probably argue that not everything is a theatrical opportunity (see: the Scottish toilet – he kills his male philandering owner in a self-righteous fury). There was also an ethically dubious piece about an Italian restaurateur’s Japanese wife who turned out to be a lifeless doll.

The set design (Geneve Chu) is commendable; the transitions are smooth, and the space is imaginatively understood. For a scratch night, it is extremely organised; it’s reassuringly structured. The band (LA Family Trio) is a fun accompaniment, and the lighting (Aaron Molloy) is well deployed. But the pieces themselves – and the organising concept – fail to engage and lack the satisfaction of a more conventional piece of theatre. As a scratch night, of course, the intention is not to create one unified story, but it is a struggle to care about any of the stories or characters within this setup.

REVIEW: A Mirrored Monet

Published on by zhangxidan0324Leave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

“One of the strongest Off West End stagings of the year”

Mirrored Monet at Charing Cross Theatre is one of the strongest Off West End stagings of the year, not because it reinvents the musical form, but because it understands exactly how to build a visual world and sustain it with intelligence and taste. From the moment the show begins, the stage is conceived as an Impressionist canvas, with projection design transforming scenes into living paintings. This is especially effective in moments when the production shifts towards the feeling of a gallery space, allowing Monet’s artistic legacy to frame the action without overwhelming it. The result is a staging language that feels carefully studied, aesthetically coherent, and often genuinely beautiful.

The lighting design deserves particular praise. Its soft palette captures an unmistakably Impressionist atmosphere, washing the stage in colours that feel delicate, airy, and painterly. One especially inspired touch comes in the use of church stained glass patterns in the lighting, which brings a sudden richness and texture to the visual composition. It is the kind of detail that lingers in the memory and shows how thoughtfully the creative team have engaged with the painterly world they are evoking. Across the production, design elements work in close harmony, and that sense of visual unity becomes the evening’s greatest strength.

As a biographical musical, Mirrored Monet tells its story clearly and elegantly, but not always compellingly. The difficulty is not confusion, but flatness. The narrative unfolds with care, yet there is too little dramatic conflict, too little escalation, and too little sense of surprise. One keeps waiting for a sharper rupture or a more forceful emotional turning point, but the piece remains restrained to the point of monotony. Given the richness of Monet’s artistic life and the relationships surrounding him, it feels as though there were opportunities for greater dramatic tension that the show chooses not to pursue.

The score suffers from a similar problem. The songs are woven into the storytelling rather than standing apart from it, which is a valid artistic choice, but because the drama itself remains so even in tone, the music rarely lands with distinct force. Very little feels shaped to become a true emotional or musical climax, and few numbers leave a lasting melodic impression once the performance ends.

Still, the cast do excellent work within those limitations. Brooke Bazarian makes a beautiful debut as Camille, bringing a physical grace and presence that suit the role perfectly. There is something almost sacred in her stage bearing, with a sense of purity and poise that makes her deeply believable in the part. Vocally, she is equally impressive, with a rounded, soft, and luminous tone that fits both the character and the production’s aesthetic world.

Natalie Day is another standout, handling the dual roles of Suzanne and Blanche with remarkable fluency. Her transitions between the two women are smooth and clearly defined, and she gives each of them a distinct emotional texture. As the young professional model and friend, and later as Monet’s daughter in law and a frustrated female painter, she brings vitality and contrast to the evening. The scenes between the women are also observed with notable care, adding welcome detail and energy to the storytelling.

In the end, Mirrored Monet is a production of considerable visual accomplishment and committed performances. The creative team have clearly put enormous thought into drawing from Monet’s paintings and translating them into theatrical form. Yet the show never fully escapes the limitations of treating him primarily as a great painter rather than as the centre of a more dramatically shaped story. For all its beauty, it remains too dramatically muted and too musically indistinct to become truly moving.

Mirrored Monet runs at Charing Cross Theatre in London from 14 March to 9 May 2026. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: 10 First Dates

Published on by isabellescerriLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

A witty, charming tale of ten dates, and a woman who deserves more

At midday on a sunny Tuesday, Camden’s Etcetera Theatre welcomes a Gooper Dust
Production of 10 First Dates. Starring Laura Shipler Chico as Maggie, the play’s protagonist, and a skilled Mark Parsons as her ten dates, Camden’s Women’s Writers Festival continues to celebrate gifted female writing. Directed by Jamie Saul and written by Christine Rose, the play seeks to offer a comedic insight into the reality of dating again as a middle-aged woman.
After the departure of a 25-year old marriage, Maggie is left newly single and considers
her entrance into the modern world of dating. We meet our protagonist as she scrambles to find the right outfit, on an initially stripped-back set, featuring two stage blocks, a coat hanger and a mirror. Anxious of this dating rebirth, we learn of Maggie’s concerns when adapting to contemporary abbreviations and navigating the swipes of the likes of Tinder and Bumble.
Rose’s writing is witty, sharp and convincing as we learn of the play’s premise. Maggie will encounter ten first dates, lasting no more than an hour, and certainly not exceeding two hours.
Saul’s direction initiates some smooth transitions. The revelation of the washing line of number cards which emerges from the coat hanger is particularly impressive and a sleek transition transports Maggie into her first date. Saul’s direction utilizes spacing and proximity to indicate Maggie’s apprehension.
Our first impression of Parson’s characterisation is excellent. Through costume, posture
and voice, Parson’s skill becomes very apparent. This dynamic between Maggie and Date One, lays the foundation for the headaches of online dating, whilst portraying the homogenous experience of dating men. As we meet the varying dates, Parson’s impersonations maintain strong, depicting rich archetypes and aiding Maggie’s endeavour.
Maggie’s dating experiences vary, from dates which disgust her or violate her to warm
her and enlighten her- Rose makes sure to encompass a range of experiences. The theme of sex and the heavy male attention to it runs throughout. We witness Maggie in uncomfortable positions, yet as the dates progress in their sequence, we see some improvement, represented in the words printed on the mugshots of each date on the photocards of the washing line.
Between the dates, Maggie provides feedback to the audience, commenting upon her
frustrations. These moments had the potential to provide a deep understanding of why Maggie feels she must undertake this journey, yet as the numbers increase, I found a repetitiveness in her observations. This made the performance feel slightly like a countdown, and potentially too linear for what 10 First Dates could push for. If the initial exploration of Maggie’s past was pushed to reveal her inner turmoil, these dates could really strengthen the play’s concluding note of self-acceptance.

Nevertheless, 10 First Dates exemplified some great acting and smooth choreography, whilst providing continuous moments to laugh out loud at. With some small edits and a deep dive into the character’s psyche, 10 First Dates has the potential to be really impactful to an audience and offer a critical perspective on modern-day dating.

REVIEW: The Boy At The Back Of The Class

Published on by Will OsbonLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

An entertaining and educational piece of children’s theatre that struggles to adapt fully to the stage.

The Olivier Award nominated The Boy At The Back Of The Class has taken the festival theatre stage and, in some ways, offers a gentle incline into Imaginate Festival’s presence in Edinburgh. This new play offers a glimpse into the exciting future of children’s theatre. There is a lot to praise, a lot to be excited by, and a lot that in the end falls short. 

There are many qualities of The Boy At The Back Of The Class well worth raising up. Namely, that this is the exact kind of story needing to be told to young and receptive audiences in an era of misinformation. This can be a tired compliment (often only superficially adding to the criticism), but here it is true. Seemingly centralising the story of “Ahmet”, a young boy who joins a London school after fleeing Syria, this play takes on the mammoth task of educating (while entertaining) younger audiences on the current refugee climate. It succeeds, but not without stumbles. 

Firstly, this set design by Lily Arnold is impeccable. Utilising an open space, versatile props, P.E. climbing frames and a cubic neon border, this set is adaptable and transformative; it hasn’t been done this well since The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-Time. Performances are consistent and necessarily high energy, with a great wealth of comic performances (highlights being Abdul-Malik Janneh as “Michael” and Evie Weldon as “Clarissa”) and heart-felt performances (highlights being leads Serkan Avlik as “Ahmet” and Sasha Desouza-Willock as “Alexa”). Humorous moments and sharp choreography by movement director Kloé Dean, as well as a second half that reads Roald-Dahl-Esque, makes for a swell evening that is educational, visually impressive and entertaining for all ages. 

The Boy At The Back’s biggest downfall, however, is its structural ambition. The play’s second half is engaging and provocative. This is done through impressive commentary on the media and its role in political action (and how kids of all ages can ask the right questions), as well as surprising but poignant descriptions of immigration hurdles. This, combined with accelerating action and a Queen of England Ex Machina, makes for a second half that is equal parts moving and stimulating. Unfortunately, the first half doesn’t succeed in the same ways.

While we are informed that this is Ahmet’s story (including an Act One finale where Ahmet yells “Why doesn’t anyone understand me?” – the audience now understanding Ahmet for the first time), the first act centralises Alexa, who describes Ahmet as “The Boy At The Back Of The Class”. This, plus “lion eyes” descriptions that come off as dated orient-style rhetoric at best, leads the first act into a rambling, action-less nose dive. At times there is room for engaging discussions on the “Stop The Boats” epidemic. However, the script mostly resorts to an ill-fitting Matilda style villain for conflict and an “it’s okay to be different” message in order to cross the finish line, potentially diluting its point and punch.

The first act finale indicates a turning point. Yet, it doesn’t truly deliver on its promise: to tell Ahmet’s story, as opposed to the world around him defining him. What results is an important show, with inspiring political confidence, humour and energy, but one that has to employ less than suitable tactics in order to exist. The audience, filled with all ages that night, leant forward at its heavier sections. Kids are smart, and also evidently more hungry for genuine information than ever. That said, more trust in this adaptation’s core concepts in the future may elevate this play from educational and entertaining to utterly revolutionary.