REVIEW: Ukraine Unbroken


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

‘“Ukraine is an idea”: A harrowing odyssey through the psyche of a nation that resolutely refuses to die.’


Two days before Ukraine Unbroken debuted at the Arcola Theatre in Dalston, the United States and Israel launched their historic air assault on the Iranian capital, Tehran, codenamed Operation Epic Fury. Within hours, a volley of ballistic missiles had killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and much of his cabinet; Iran had launched indiscriminate retaliatory strikes of its own; global oil prices hit their highest level in three years; and air travel across the Middle East was effectively paralysed. This made the staging of a series of five plays focusing on the war in Ukraine all the more prescient – and chilling.

The production comprises of five independent vignettes directed by Nicolas Kent, each set during Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine, which began in 2014. All of the plays are tied together by performances from Mariia Petrovska, a Ukrainian singer and bandura player who appears during the set changes. As Petrovska reveals as the evening unfolds, she fled to the UK following Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022, lending her already ethereal vocals and bandura solos an even more haunting quality.

The first play, Always by Jonathan Myerson, depicts the massacre of protesters during the 2014 Maidan revolution, shown from the confines of a hotel room from which snipers fire upon unarmed demonstrators. The piece provides fascinating context to what may be a lesser-known chapter of modern Ukrainian history and acts as a suitably macabre tone-setter for the rest of the evening.

The second, Five Day War by David Edgar, takes a step back from the visceral peril of Always and instead adopts a more slow-burning, procedural tone. It follows a group of senior Russian politicians summoned to a clandestine meeting in a rural Ukrainian lodge. They soon realise they have been handpicked to become Ukraine’s government-in-waiting; all they need do is wait out the inevitable Russian victory predicted to come in five days. However, as the group begin interviewing one another for cabinet positions, it becomes evident that President Putin’s “special military operation” is not going to plan. What unfolds is an expertly written, Twelve Angry Men-style drama, in which characters are forced to wrestle with their own personal ambition against the most rudimentary tenets of humanity.

The second half of the production begins with Three Mates by Natalka Vorozhbit. Though ostensibly the most sedate of the five plays – essentially the internal monologue of a conscientious objector struggling to fall asleep during an air raid – it ultimately packs the greatest emotional punch. The narrator, inebriated with his own guilt, reflects on the decisions that have led him to his current predicament. He recalls two childhood friends: one of whom managed to escape, and the other who became a grizzled veteran still on the front line, while he remains in a kind of purgatory in Kyiv, paralysed by his own cowardice. The vignette is brilliantly written and heartbreakingly performed by Ian Bonar and Jade Williams, the latter haunting the stage as the memory of the wife who fled to the UK as a refugee. In light of the current state of the world, Three Mates serves as a sobering reminder of the psychological toll warfare takes on those who fight – and those who won’t. 

The final two plays round out the production with aplomb. Wretched Things by David Greig concerns three Ukrainian soldiers who, while under heavy siege from incoming Russian artillery, stumble across a gravely wounded North Korean soldier who had been fighting on the Russian side. The moral dilemma of what to do with him drives the remainder of the play, as Russian forces close in on their position. Certainly the most high-octane of the five, Wretched Things is enthralling throughout, with Alexa Moore’s costumes and the waft of real cigarette smoke lending a vivid physicality to the set. Unfortunately, its engaging plot is occasionally blunted by slightly over-explicit dialogue, such as the line: “The Ukrainian eastern front is the world’s seminar room right now.”

Taken by Cat Goscovitch is the final drama of the evening, and it lands with a devastating hammer blow. It tells the story of a mother (Williams) who vows to return her 12-year-old daughter (Clara Read) to her native Mariupol after she is abducted by Russian forces. Once the moving drama concludes, the tragedy is compounded by a projection above the stage revealing the staggering statistic that 20,000 Ukrainian children have been kidnapped by Russian forces since the war began.

All five plays are performed by an ensemble cast of Daniel Betts, Ian Bonar, Sally Giles, David Michaels, Clara Read and Jade Williams. The cast rotate seamlessly between roles, imbuing each character with complexity and humanity they deserve. Although the situation, not just in Ukraine but across the world, feels as bleak in 2026 as at any point in recent memory, Ukraine Unbroken offers a vital reminder that resilience itself can be an act of defiance. As the title suggests, despite the brutality inflicted by four years of war, Ukraine endures, not merely as a territory under siege, but as an idea, a culture and a people who refuse to be erased.

Ukraine Unbroken plays at the Arcola Theatre until 28th March. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: A Night To Remember Motown Show


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

“These singers will make you feel alive with their energetic ode to Motown.”


The A Night To Remember Motown Show is a joyous celebration of music from one of the most iconic and influential record labels of all time. Producing artists such as Stevie Wonder, The Jackson 5 and The Supremes, Motown is well known for their talent. This show seeks to capture that same magic.

The show is produced by and features the lead vocals of Bizzi Dixon, former finalist on The Voice UK. Previously known for his work as the lead principal in Thriller Live, this production was yet another born out of lockdown due to the Covid-19 pandemic when theatres were in shutdown. Years later, this show has become a fitting tribute to a sensational era of music. Alongside the Motown Divas, Dixon honours the artistry of many Motown stars.

Audience members would be hard-pushed not to know any of these songs, regardless of age as the show features classics that have spanned decades and are truly unforgettable. The Motown Divas were a powerful trio, each having their own moment to shine, delighting us with songs such as “Heatwave” and “Heard It Through The Grapevine”. Dixon also joined the Divas on various numbers.

One choice in particular that seemed bold was to have “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” as the second song in their set. Usually known as a closing number, this stood out as the opener and proved to be an excellent choice, as there were many hits throughout the performance and this one immediately engaged the audience from the very start. The hits continued throughout with Tina Turner and Stevie Wonder both being highlighted by the vocalists. Two personal favourites had to be “Reach Out (I’ll Be There)” and “Baby Love”, a classic from The Supremes and performed perfectly by the Motown Divas.

The vocalists really made this a lively night out. Their infusion of energy and fun into each song and kept the audience entertained and there was no stopping point. They each kept the pace of the show going at all times. Even during a brief wig incident, the performers were professionals and carried on. It has to be stated that this was also a very well-crafted show in terms of the choice of music. As mentioned, Motown have so many incredible artists and songs that to condense that into a 2-hour performance can’t be easy but the right choices were certainly made. If you’re thinking of a particularly well-known song or performer from the days of Motown, chances are it was in the setlist. Plus, the vocals really couldn’t be faulted. Everyone was superb and when there are only four people onstage throughout the show, it’s crucial everyone be at the same level. Thankfully, this was indeed the case and there were multiple instances in which the performers sounded like the originals, while still having their own distinct flavour. Throughout the show, the Divas also had some timely choreography to fit the era which definitely added to the overall vibe of the show. The band were also incredible and alongside the vocalists, 100% filled the space with sound, making it feel like a concert.

Overall, this was a vibrant, entertaining evening of amazing music and a performance worth seeing, possibly even multiple times! It’s also nice to see that, as a passion project born out of lockdown, something good can come from darker times.

This performance will have you on your feet moving along to the music and it’ll be an absolute joy for newcomers to the genre as well as anyone who’s already a fan of Motown.

A Night To Remember Motown Show is currently on tour across multiple UK venues. The next stop is the Muni Theatre in Colne on Friday 6th March and the tour concludes at the Pentland Theatre in Edinburgh on Saturday 27th June.

REVIEW: Waiting for Godot


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

‘A sharp and refreshing take on this elusive, existential play.’


Set on a stark stage in the newly renovated Citizens Theatre in Glasgow, Dominic Hill’s Waiting for Godot did not disappoint. The eerie scenery, designed by Jean Chan, created a timeless place shrouded in mystery, the perfect backdrop for restless existential questioning. Although Samuel Beckett’s play was written in 1948, the complex themes still resonate today.

The play is an exploration of what it means to be human. We join Vladimir, played by George Costigan, and Estragon, by Matthew Kelly, as they wait for the mysterious character Godot, longing for a change in their lives. Who is he? What does he represent? Why are these men so desperate to meet him? Can the longing for Godot be reflected in our own life? As the play unfolds, the audience become part of their journey, joining in their waiting, hoping for their sake that Godot will come.

The strong performance from the cast created a mixture of shock, laughter and bewilderment from the audience. What stood out most was Matthew Kelly and George Costigan’s chemistry and impeccable character work. Their connection suggested a rich history and deep understanding of one another, perhaps solidified through the actors’ decades of friendship off the stage.

Interrupting their waiting was Gbolahan Obisesan’s Pozzo and his slave Lucky, played by Michael Hodgson. The power struggle between them was palpable, uncomfortable and shocking, eerily echoing some of the unsavoury characteristics demonstrated by some in power today.

Throughout the performance Kelly and Costigan caused ripples of laughter through their physical acting and their quick-witted quips, often finding depth stretching well beyond the original text. They create a tension, manipulating the emotions of the audience, causing us to connect with their humanity. Their on-stage relationship had moments of humour, frustration and tenderness, signs of those who have weathered storms and lived life together. Perhaps, really this is a story of a friendship.

As we watch, it feels we are trapped in a painful cycle, holding on for something that may never happen. Nowadays we wait for nothing; almost anything is attainable at the click of a button. The contrasting timelessness on stage lead to moments of discomfort as the pair struggle to attempt to while away time. The number of creative ways the friends come up with to distract them from waiting is both astounding and amusing. We feel their pain, their hunger, their search for something more.

Samuel Beckett’s play is somehow timeless and universal, with many of the themes explored continuing to hold relevance today. In a play where nothing happens, this production left you considering your place in the world. In a world full of uncertainty, Matthew Kelly and George Costigan’s performance of Waiting for Godot still resonates profoundly today.

This show runs at Citizens Theatre, Glasgow, 27th February until 14th March. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Shadowlands


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Tender, beautifully acted exploration of late-found love and devastating loss results in a profoundly moving evening of theatre


Shadowlands arrives in London as a quietly devastating meditation on love, loss and the fragile architecture of an ordered life undone by grief. Directed by Rachel Kavanaugh and transferred from its Chichester origins to the Aldwych Theatre, this production explores the late-in-life romance between writer C. S. Lewis and poet Joy Davidman with delicacy and emotional precision.

At its centre is a relationship drawn with impressive nuance. Lewis, portrayed by Hugh Bonneville, begins as a man of intellectual certainty whose carefully structured world is disrupted by Davidman’s arrival. Maggie Siff presents Joy as sharp, unsentimental and brilliantly articulate, a woman unwilling to be overshadowed by Lewis’s reputation. Their chemistry is persuasive, charting a progression from rigorous friendship to a love that feels both hard won and deeply human. Joy’s emotional openness contrasts poignantly with Lewis’s tentative, fearful approach to intimacy, a tension that heightens as illness intrudes and the stakes become heartbreakingly clear.

The production’s emotional focus rests squarely on this central pairing, a choice that largely serves the play well. However, Douglas, Joy’s young son, performed on the reviewed evening by a confident, charming Ayrton English, receives comparatively limited development. While a late scene delivers genuine emotional force, earlier interactions feel somewhat one-dimensional. The evolving bond between Lewis and the child, particularly given Lewis’s association with imaginative storytelling beloved by Douglas, suggests dramatic possibilities that remain only partially realised. A fleeting nod to The Magician’s Nephew offers a charming connection to Lewis’s literary world, yet this thread could have been woven more fully into the narrative.

Supporting performances add texture and warmth. Jeff Rawle brings gentle humour and compassion to Warnie, Lewis’s brother, functioning as both comic relief and an empathetic confidant. The ensemble, notably large for a play that often feels like an intimate two hander, executes seamless transitions that maintain the story’s momentum.

Visually, the staging is elegant and restrained. Designer Peter McKintosh frames the action with towering bookshelves and a reflective mirrored backdrop that subtly conceals hints of Narnian woodland. A softly glowing lamppost evokes the world of The Chronicles of Narnia without overwhelming the realism of the drama. Fluid set changes, aided by a rotating centrepiece and the coordinated movement of the cast, effectively mark the passage of time.

Some audiences may find the pacing uneven. The gradual evolution of the central romance is afforded generous space, while the subsequent years of shared happiness pass swiftly, leaving only glimpses of Lewis’s growth as husband and father. A fuller exploration of this period might have deepened the emotional resonance of the play’s final movements.

Even so, this production remains profoundly affecting. It navigates themes of cancer, grief and the unexpected arrival of love with sensitivity and intelligence, offering a portrait of companionship that feels both intimate and universal. The result is a moving and thoughtfully crafted evening of theatre that earned its standing ovation and lingers long after the curtain falls.

This show runs at The Aldwych Theatre until 9th May. Tickets here.

REVIEW: After Miss Julie


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

“Dadiow Lin’s direction of Patrick Merber’s play is phenomenal” 


Patrick Merber’s After Miss Julie reimagines August Strindberg’s classic tragedy on the eve of Britain’s 1945 election. With mass welfare reforms on the horizon, including the founding of the NHS, the story looks to interrogate the class structures of its time in light of this. It follows one night of scandal between Julie, the daughter of a Labour MP, and her servant, John, whose soon-to-be wife, Christine, is both caught up and cast aside in their affair. This form, of naturalistic plays analysing class in household settings, is a tried and tested format. But Merber’s script is truly a thrilling piece of work. This is something director Dadiow Lin clearly understands, and her edition of the play is made with great consideration of his writing. 

The result is a lead directorial debut by Lin which  is an incredibly tight piece of work. She stages Patrick Marber’s play in the round, making it all the more scrutinous. This choice is a great accompaniment to the story’s portrayal of the post-war British class system, also allowing for some subtly spectacular visual moments. For a show so contained, I was not expecting it to pack such a punch. 

The actors do a superb job giving real life to each character. Liz Francis makes an exceptional lead debut as the titular Julie. Francis’ Julie absolutely suffocates the room, played with a magnitude that is promising for any roles Francis hopefully takes on in the future. Tom Varey is excellent as John, who tussles with his power like it really is slipping away. There’s a desperation Varey gives John which deepens his character and manages to make him one you empathise with, even with his moments of violence. Charlene Boyd was a standout with her performance as Christine. Her use of voice is excellent, and not only in dialoge—one of the most exceptional moments of the performance came from a sharp breath she takes off stage. She brought alive the mundanity of Christine’s life, and performed with a restrained ferocity when needed. Many of Lin’s choices, to give space and moments of quiet, were on the whole great for these performances, even if some moments went on a little too long, or some moments of tension actually needed to be held a little longer. The dynamics between all three feel entirely organic, and watching them was an incredibly rewarding experience. 

Much of this is assisted by some solid design. The lighting, particularly, is incredibly effective, especially a large fixture that hangs from above, at one point glowing alone like the moon. It’s incredibly atmospheric. The set design is generally era-appropriate and practical for the show, although the white paint of the furniture felt a little too modern. The main counter was split into two which allowed for decent movement of the set, although sometimes this was a bit clunky. It might have been better to keep the set more still, particularly as the play takes place entirely in one room. Some offstage portions of the room were used as well for small moments, like washing and making tea, but this sometimes felt like a bit of an afterthought, with the action not being very visible or obvious. But most of the show takes place in the well-lit centre stage, and the world here is fully imagined. 

Lin’s edition of After Miss Julie is a gripping watch. It has you truly invested in its characters, and this engagement is very rewarding. The messaging about class is properly considered, and isn’t just played for the audience’s vindication. When John goes back to the same stool to clean his boss’ shoes at the end of the play he is lit by a solitary oil lamp, and the moment is played out at length, forcing us, after all the scandal, to rest with the inevitability of his mundane life. There’s a real sense of injustice here, and Lin’s inclination to let action rest on stage for a while allows us to really feel it. 

After Miss Julie is on at the Park Theatre in Finsbury Park, London, until 28th of Feb.

REVIEW: Daniel Moore’s Definitive Guide to Failure-Free Living


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A funny, uncomfortable, intense, sweaty night of brilliant theatre


Matthew Edgar’s curation of Daniel Moore’s Definitive Guide to Failure-Free Living is
without a doubt, one to look out for. A co-production with Drayton Arms theatre, Edgar
situates the audience in a room of anger, sweat, masculinity, whales and decisions. As
the audience enters the space, through the brilliant direction by Harry Daisley, the scene
is already unfolding. As a scruffy looking Daniel Moore pumps out push-ups, erratically
dresses himself and paces the space, a sense of unease fills the room and our first
interaction with this character pre-empts what we are in for.
The narrative seeks to prove that Daniel Moore does not fail, as he adheres to the
deadly glow of a button in the centre of the room. He has pressed this button as it lights
up for 19,999 hours, and we are here to join him in his 20,000 hour, to which he would
have succeeded his job and will call it quits. As we are welcomed into his world, he
seeks to expand his knowledge beyond his own self-appreciation, dreaming of
spreading his wisdom to those who haven’t had the privilege of hearing of it so far. The
harsh bodily movements, unsettling constant slicking back of greasy hair and low
mumbling proves that we are in fact, trapped in this dimension with him.
At first, the performance seems somewhat situated within the solo narrative of his
mission- to press the button, to not fail. As the performance unravels, we learn that
Daniel’s motives reach much further into his own being. The multi-rolling performed by
Edgar was impeccable. The ability to formulate an entire scene with three characters
varying of age, gender and physicality was highly commendable. The sharp transitions,
alongside very rehearsed accents, felt beyond convincing. The pace throughout the
performance certainly paralleled the growing understanding of the character and the
reasons behind his obsessions.
The creation of this piece, outside of its talent to draw in the audience, felt very
important to a wider world too. Where 2025 saw the impacts of the likes of Andrew Tate
and a national hit of the TV drama Adolescene, Daniel Moore’s Definitive Guide to
Failure-Free Living felt very important in carrying on discussions in 2026. What I really
commended about this piece, is its unpredictability- nothing was handed to the audience
on a plate. Moreover, an underlying link to male violence felt extremely important.
Where Edgar created room to draw the lines between his intensity and uncomfortable
sexual behaviours and remarks, he manufactured a piece which reached beyond
theatre. Edgar confined us within his characters space, yet left us filling in our own
gaps, and placing our own red buttons in our worlds. A really brilliant night at the
theatre, and an even greater impression left on the audience’s mind.

REVIEW: Dear England


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A 2020s companion piece to ‘Jerusalem’? Dear England is a rousing play spotlighting the nuances of national identity, pride and place. 


As it stands, every roundabout I’ve recently passed has had a St George’s flag flying. Patriotism is a divisive subject; but Englishness, in particular, has become entangled with extremist rhetoric and nostalgic fantasies of power. That red cross carries a weight far heavier than sport.

So what is Englishness? It’s a question without an easy answer and James Graham’s Dear England knows that. What it offers instead is openness, curiosity and a willingness to sit with contradiction. 

1966’s World Cup win looms large; half a century later, we’re watching a team changing itself from within. Gareth Southgate is foregrounding mental health, reframing failure and starting conversations around prejudice in the dressing room. It’s also a decade since Brexit, a lingering wound that has worsened xenophobia and further distorted the English flag. Politics and football have always been intertwined, and Dear England makes that relationship explicit. With another World Cup approaching, its timing feels uncanny.

The play is an underdog story rooted in patience rather than bravado. Southgate (performed with rousing conviction by David Sturzaker), challenges the entrenched ‘man up’ culture of sport, aided by psychologist Pippa Grange (played sensitively by Samantha Womack). Time loops are everywhere – most notably in Southgate’s own missed penalty at the 1996 Euros, an act that earned him years of public scorn. It takes someone hurt by the system, the play suggests, to stand up to it and enact meaningful change. 

Before the interval, I found myself thinking that Dear England could be read as a contemporary companion to Jez Butterworth’s Jerusalem. Not least for all the rave reviews, but because the 2009 play interrogates Englishness through folkloric collective culture. Can we ever escape allegories of national greatness – medieval legends, holy grails, lions – when they continue to manifest across society, including on the football pitch? 

When Dear England’s second act begins, the parallel sharpens with Morris dancers and St. George himself charging forward. These symbols of enduring Englishness collide with militaristic language of Waterloo and crusades. It’s all bolstered by a soundtrack that taps directly into the national psyche: Bittersweet Symphony, Introvert, Sweet Caroline, tracks belonging to our matches, pubs, adverts and carry an elevated sense of possibility.

In Jerusalem, Johnny Byron’s run-down caravan is a sacred mainstay in the face of local authority. In Dear England, players speak about the ‘shithole’ towns they come from with steadfast loyalty. This identifying pride of place is central to how Englishness is lived and felt, across the whole socio-economic experience. Graham’s refusal to offer easy answers feels deliberate – continuing a theatrical conversation about Englishness that Jerusalem so forcefully ignited.

Pippa later questions the Lions’ imperiousness. Why do we take penalties so quickly? Why does the squad feel it’s owed a win? It’s an inherited sense of deservingness – the residue of a small country that once invaded the world and still believes, at some level, in its own exceptionalism. The persistent, unbudging stuff of Arthurian legends. 

Towards the end of the play, there’s a sharp tone shift when the Lionesses’ Euro trophy is carried onstage by Natalie Boakye. The audience erupted in cheers. And then the moment passes. Perhaps this fleeting acknowledgement reveals the limits of football’s progress narrative: genuine attempts at equality undercut by the persistent sense that the game, and its myths , still belong to men.

Ending the play here might have offered a sharp sociopolitical charge. Instead, we return to the changing room: ‘You’ll get ’em next time, boys’ kind of thing. We know the hunger remains for a second star on the shirts, a feeling of greatness and a version of Englishness that still promises to make us feel mighty.

REVIEW: The Red Shoes


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

One might call this production the poetry of motion, but it is a great deal more – it is one’s religion practiced in rarefied atmosphere


How does one go about adapting a critically acclaimed piece of art, giving it the sheen of something fresh, extracting new meaning, while also retaining its core spirit that made it so well-loved in the first place?

Well, when life gives one lemons, one is inclined to make lemonade.

In 1948, famed duo Powell and Pressburger’s The Red Shoes hit the big screen, following ballerina Victoria Page as she makes her way through the cutthroat dance company of Boris Lermontov. The film itself is based on a Hans Christian Andersen fairytale of the same name which was first published almost an entire century before the film’s release. In adapting it from the page, Powell and Pressburger did not merely stick to the mould but instead crafted an entirely new metafictional story about obsession, art, love, and ambition.

Almost seventy years on from that, Matthew Bourne and his company New Adventures once again transformed The Red Shoes, this time from one of the most significant entries in the history of film into the medium of ballet – and what delicious lemonade he makes!

In the latest UK tour of this double Olivier Award-winning production, Matthew Bourne’s The Red Shoes continues to sparkle and entrance, living up to its history and reputation with its imaginative choreography, gorgeous sets and costumes, and beautiful and sensitive acting.

In truth, this ballet does not change much of the film’s story. It follows most of the plot beats familiar to those who have had the pleasure of seeing the film beforehand, but it is a straightforward enough story that you are not disadvantaged by going into this production without prior viewing. To further ease any doubts, the dancing, while dynamic, is expressed in an accessible manner that allows you to understand what is going on while also exciting you at the same time. Even the infamously fantastical centrepiece of the film is nowhere near as surrealistic or conceptual on stage, with simple shades of black and white used to make the red of the shoes stand out.

Though this production of The Red Shoes does not have surprises lying in wait, this is to its advantage as it effectively evokes the atmosphere of the film, allowing it to play in the same spaces of emotions. One way in which this is done is through its plentiful sets. While nothing can ever quite touch what Technicolour magic can do for the French Riviera, Lez Brotherston’s set and costume designs brings the beauties of Paris and Monte Carlo to you, an almost cinematic panacea to a cold and dreary Glasgow January.

Dancing in the fictional Europe of the 1940s is Hannah Kremer who plays the protagonist Victoria, and she does the famous character justice, letting Vicky’s strength, vulnerabilities, and indecisions shine through not just her ballet but her acting too, and you cannot help but sympathise with her. Opposite her is Reece Causton as the indomitable Lermontov who, in costume and makeup, more than resembles his film counterpart in looks. More importantly though, he also carries himself with the same presence, and you cannot help but be aware of him no matter where he is on stage at all times, his steps always demanding your attention. Together, they form an exceptional couple – just like a pair of matching shiny red shoes.

REVIEW: Pierre Novellie


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Precise observations, as funny as they are well constructed


Pierre Novellie’s business suit and florid tie are incongruent with Soho Downstairs’ crammed-in seating and smell of stale beer. But this exceptionally well-pitched show is unimpeded, and delivers a masterclass in observational comedy. The incisive descriptions and occasional flights of fancy in You Sit There, I’ll Stand Here feel capable of running for twice as long without ever losing momentum.

A consistent highlight is Novellie’s brilliant use of analogy, sketching hilarious portraits of everyday life sparingly. Comparing competitors on The Traitors with a 13th-century peasant mob is multi-layered and impressively accurate. More conventional stand-up fare – from moving house to growing older – remains fresh thanks to this unique ability to describe things with precision and hilarity. Novellie worries about his weight in the same way a Tesco security guard encounters a shoplifter, relayed through a joke-dense description that is right on the money.

Increasing cantankerousness with age (and middle-class comfort) is a recurring theme, as Novellie interrogates which “new opinion” is reactionary nonsense and which is a sensible worry – a distinction captured through evocative analogy with 70s punk rock. Along similar lines, he also discusses the evolution of observational comedy in the modern era – “so many of the things I observe are depressing” – and the ever-shrinking sphere of shared reference in an age of on-demand content and algorithmic recommendations.

Longer stories dotted throughout allow Novellie to show off his full skillset. Many anecdotes surround hospitality, from a game of chicken with cleaning staff at a Melbourne hotel to a precise dissection of Premier Inn’s “looking forward to your stay” e-mail. You Sit There, I’ll Stand Here culminates with a joke-packed story racing across London to beat a moving company, only realising, once stood in the middle of a tube train clutching frozen meat to his chest, that he could be mistaken for a hallucination. Novellie’s trust in his audience to get the joke is compelling – one minute painting a surreal image, the next referencing the fall of man through Winnie the Pooh – and his biggest laughs often come after the second of silence it takes for a reference to click. This pause amplifies the enjoyment, and encourages intelligent punchlines.

Perhaps a consequence of this intelligence, You Sit There, I’ll Stand Here can feel quite rigid – audiences on this 12-night run will hear the same ideas in the same order. Novellie’s jokes aren’t any less funny as a result, and their delivery is no less skilled, but some audience interaction or off-the-cuff remarks would add a welcome element of unpredictability.

Surprisingly, Novellie’s cynicism crescendos into hope, which likely helped earn his fourth “Best Reviewed Shows of the Fringe” listing in a row, and is also very satisfying and funny in its own right. In a world of mainstream alternative comedy, there’s something reassuringly solid in the ‘intelligent observations, a microphone, and an audience’ simplicity of You Sit There, I’ll Stand Here. A masterclass in modern observational comedy.

“Pierre Novellie – You Sit There, I’ll Stand Here” plays at the Soho Theatre until 31st January, before embarking on a tour of the UK and Ireland. Tickets for Soho Theatre can be purchased here, and for the tour on Novellie’s website.

REVIEW: Twelfth Night 


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

With mischief, music and madness, the Marlowe Arts Twelfth Night has it all


Cambridge University’s esteemed Marlowe Arts Show has seen the likes of Emma Thompson, Tilda Swinton and Ian McKellen make their debut on a professional stage; as such the company has a reputation for birthing upcoming stars. Having witnessed the incredible talent in this year’s production of Twelfth Night, I am certain this reputation is well earned. The skill within this student cast was evident from the show’s opening moments, where shipwrecked Viola, played absolutely stunningly by H Sneyd, drew us into the upturned world of Illyria. Throughout, it was impossible to take your eyes off of Sneyd; they owned the stage with a natural mastery that is rare to find whilst handling the nuanced layers of Viola’s multilayered identity with impressive subtlety and control. 

Lauren Akinluyi was delightful to watch as the hopelessly lovestruck Olivia, ensuring the production had an incredibly strong foundation as the central unrequited love affair between herself and Viola, who she believes to be a young man named Cesario, played out. Buoyant and magnetic, Akinluyi was a wonderful figurehead for the frivolity unfolding in the opulent manor house director Micheal Oakley conjures. With Twelfth Night’s alternative title  ‘What You Will’ displayed in a gameshow style lettering across the backdrop, morphing cleverly as the plot’s many mishaps and mismatches unfold, it was clear anything goes, and little will go to plan… 

A fantastic casting decision to portray Viola and Sebastian as androgynous identical siblings, retaining their androgyny even after their ‘true’ selves are unveiled, amplified the brilliant exploration of the fluid and expansive nature of identity that grants Twelfth Night its timeless resonance. Enya Crowley as Sebastian crafted a tender relationship with Sneyd, offering moving moments of loss and uncertainty, furthered in the touchingly sincere loyalty of Antonio (Max Parkhouse) to Sebastian. This was a necessary undercurrent to an otherwise uproariously funny performance. 

Providing comedy was a real strength of this outstanding cast, with Sir Andrew Agucheek (Toby Trusted), Sir Toby Belch (Theo Francis) and Feste the Fool (Stella Williamson) forming a devious trio who frequently erupted into irresistibly raucous dance, disarray and calamity. Williamson’s Feste ensured that music was not only ‘the food of love’ but offered some of this production’s most exciting moments, delivering the Fool’s pithy speeches through song. Her strong voice alongside the incredible live band provided delightful musical moments, honouring c16th clowning traditions while retaining an engaging contemporary feel through catchy melodies and Williamson’s tastefully modern re-imaging of the Fool as a hilariously unbothered, branflake-munching mischief maker. Likewise, Jacob Mellor as Orsino brought well-pitched melodrama to the stage in his search for a melody to soothe his lovesickness, and his amusing devotion to Feste’s song. 

Oakley’s sharp vision, assisted by Sophia Orr, never missed an opportunity for a laugh, punctuating the play’s plentiful moments of crosswired love affairs with the eruption of red love heart balloons, a gag they returned to and elevated effectively throughout to physicalise each character’s unique plight. Yet, nothing quite matched the uncontrollable laughter rippling through the entire auditorium every time Eddie Adams’ Malvolio entered the stage. His brilliant crafting of the ridiculously severe, gullible servant ensured even the tiniest eyebrow raise had the room in stitches. Adams delivered Malvolio’s much anticipated yellow-garter-clad rampage to outstanding success, giving Tamsin Greig’s iconic performance for the National (2017) a run for its money and certainly forming a standout moment of the entire production. 

There was never a dull moment in this pacy and unpredictable re-imagining of a well-loved play. It is clear a huge amount of dedication has gone into forming such a slick and inventive show, and this has certainly paid off. With the exception of a few opening night nerves flickering amongst some cast members, adding a slightly restrained quality to a few moments, this student show would not be out of place in the professional theatre industry. I urge anyone looking for an uplifting night of comedy, chaos and eventual happy endings to head to the Cambridge Arts Theatre before the end of this run!

Twelfth Night runs until 24th January. Tickets are available here.