Category: 4 star

The cast of The Gondoliers

REVIEW: The Gondoliers

Published on by Natalie BorensteinLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A ritzy riot of an opera

The English Touring Opera’s production of The Gondoliers, staged at Hackney Empire on the 11th of April, was colourful, flamboyant and immensely entertaining. Composed by Gilbert and Sullivan in 1889, the Victorian-era comic opera oscillates between lively political satire and unbridled farce. For those unfamiliar with its topsy-turvy plot, the opera follows the journey of two ‘republican’ gondoliers who are suddenly informed by the Grand Inquisitor of Spain, Don Alhambra del Bolero, that one of them (but he does not yet know which) is the long-lost heir of Barataria; and not only is he the heir, but he was also secretly married, as an infant, to the Duke of Plaza Toro’s daughter, Casilda. Upon hearing the Grand Inquisitor’s surprising news, the gondolier brothers swiftly accept their royal status and travel to Barataria to rule the kingdom jointly until the true heir is revealed, leaving their new wives behind. However, since they are still ‘republicans’ at heart, they insist on ‘a monarchy tempered with Republican equality’, a system so impractical that it quickly exhausts both itself and its creators.

The Gondoliers is an opera with an unwieldy, somewhat ridiculous narrative, and the ETO did well to stage a production that was lucid as well as joyous. Every scene was distinctive and full of character, which helped to ground and energise the whole. In the opening chorus, the young maidens (Contadine) were fantastically saccharine while proclaiming their love for the handsome gondoliers, surrounded by a sea of artificial roses and picturesque bridges. Likewise, in the Cachucha, every performer threw themselves into an amazingly energetic dance routine, each singer as passionate and rhythmic with their ribbon-adorned tambourines as any seasoned Spanish dancer. Such moments, brimful of enthusiasm, are precisely what made this opera so lively and enjoyable to watch. They also compensated for some weaker patches in the production, where musical technique was less than perfect. For instance, in more challenging passages, singers occasionally fell out of time with the orchestra, and over the course of the evening it became apparent that one or two soloists were not as confident at projecting their voices in a big space. Thankfully, many of these minor defects were easily overlooked because of the production’s overall entertainment value.

There were also a number of incredibly talented performers in The Gondoliers. Especially captivating were: the Duke, the Duchess, Casilda and Don Alhambra del Bolero. Lauren Young’s brazen performance of ‘On the Day When I Was Wedded’ was greeted with loud, spontaneous applause – and for good reason. She is not only an excellent mezzo, but also a great comic actress. Any supercilious Duke would unquestionably be tamed by such a Duchess. Insignificant progenitors of England, beware! The same was also true of Kelli-Ann Masterson, the capable soprano who played Casilda (the Duke’s daughter). Her vocal tone and range were consistently impressive, and her knack for comedy no less so. In her duet with George Robarts (Luiz), Masterson leaned into the modern, raunchy humour that punctuated the ETO’s spring production. ‘Recollecting’ embraces assumed a whole new meaning! There was just enough innuendo for it to be funny, but not so much that it became vulgar and overdone: perfect for a British audience with a taste for the wittily, judiciously inappropriate. If they were still around today, Gilbert and Sullivan would have had a ball at Hackney Empire this weekend. Even if some improvements could still be made to further refine the production, The Gondoliers did exactly what you would expect of a comic opera: it showed the audience a good time.

This show runs at Hackney Empire until Y. Tickets here.

REVIEW: David Arnold in Conversation

Published on by Miles MorganLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A rare opportunity to hear directly from a composer whose work has shaped modern film music.”

David Arnold in Conversation at the Royal College of Music offered an engaging and insightful look into one of Britain’s most celebrated screen composers. Presented as part of the London Soundtrack Festival, it balanced anecdotal storytelling with thoughtful reflections on the craft, making it appeal to dedicated film music enthusiasts and general audiences alike.

Arnold, whose career spans over three decades, spoke candidly about his journey from early projects like The Young Americans to scoring blockbuster movies such as Independence Day and multiple James Bond entries, including Tomorrow Never Dies and Casino Royale. The conversation, hosted by film and soundtrack journalist Sean Wilson, felt informal yet focused which allowed Arnold’s personality to shine through. He is dry, self-deprecating and quietly passionate, which is an appealing blend of traits. He frequently returned to the importance of collaboration, highlighting how relationships with directors and producers shape a score as much as musical inspiration itself. He also illustrated how creating a good score is similar to the telling of a good joke – content is one thing but structure, timing and delivery are everything. 

The setting of the Royal College of Music’s Performance Hall contributed to the intimate tone. Unlike a formal lecture, the event felt conversational which added to Arnold’s relatability and likability. His ability to articulate complex musical ideas in accessible language was a standout strength, reinforcing his reputation not just as a composer but as a witty, engaging raconteur.

If the event had any limitation, it was its brevity; with such a wide-ranging career including work on TV shows like Sherlock and Good Omens, there was an inevitable sense that certain areas were only briefly touched upon. This nonetheless did not diminish the overall experience. All in all, it was an entertaining highlight of the festival which left the audience with a deeper appreciation of the artistry behind the screen.David Arnold in Conversation was part of the London Soundtrack Festival which concluded on Sunday 12th April 2026.

REVIEW: Fixing

Published on by Seth Connor-FullwoodLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Tender, funny, and intelligent – a very good night out

‘Fixing’ is part memory play, part drag show car mechanics course, written by Peader Kirk and Matt Miller, who also performs the piece, alone. 

For what is apparently their first foray into drag, those elements of the show are very effective, providing a humorous foil to the rest of the show but also becoming part of the narrative in subtle ways which add layers of complexity.

Its success is completely dependent on the audience interaction running all the way through, with the vast majority of the dialogue directly addressing the audience in both the drag scenes and the storytelling-style flashbacks to Matt’s childhood and his parents’ divorce.

Fortunately, Matt Miller is great at crowd-work, especially in his role as Matt’s drag alter ego Natalie, adapting and improvising his performance in response to their reactions. It was lovely to see all the people brought on and how enthusiastic they were to take part in the show. One member, after being told they had a lovely smile, returned the compliment and later on had a much flirtier exchange involving coolant leaks. Natalie guides the crowd through a sequence of physical movements representing a car starting, and a selection of ‘volunteers’ are brought up for more hands-on, more innuendo-soaked tutorials on checking tyres and using dipsticks, for example. 

In the more traditionally theatrical sequences, Miller still has moments of physical comedy, but the performance is more muted as he narrates Matt’s childhood experiences, doing lots of impressions of his father. Miller’s performance is hypnotic both as Matt and as Natalie, and the heart of the piece is in the exploration of his relationship with his dad.

The sound design and music is great throughout, especially the repetition of ‘Brand New Cadillac’ each time Matt changes into Natalie while getting the audience to clap along. As ‘Fixing’ goes on, the costume changes begin to interrupt Matt’s emotional confessions, highlighting the emotional suppression of Matt and his dad. By bringing the audience into these rug-pulls, the piece does a great job at making them feel guilty for their interactions with the performance, which sharpens the social critique.

Both the camp drag performances and the stoicism of Matt’s father effectively interrogate ways of masking emotions and covering up trauma through masculinity, with varying levels of seriousness. Ultimately, both attempts break down, whether that’s through Natalie’s repeated references to accidents and trauma (and, of course, healing) or through the story of how Matt’s dad is increasingly unable to work and is eventually laid off, and how that impacts Matt and his sister both at the time and years later.

The script is poetic, nuanced, and surprisingly subtle for a show full of (car-themed) innuendo about handjobs and ejaculation, with plenty of less-in-your-face puns like the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to ‘uncoupling’. 

‘Fixing’ is full of playful asides to the audience, creating an intimate environment which is only reinforced by the small studio space it’s performed in- it wouldn’t work as well on a larger stage, or with more performers, or with an interval. Matt Miller using his own name for the central character is yet another nice touch which adds to the intimacy of the play.

Another big strength of the script is the mix of sudden changes and gradual shifts in emotion, which ‘Fixing’ balances very successfully to remain cohesive. Part of this is the building feeling of unease and tension leading up to the emotional intensity of the climax- no pun intended- where the lighting changes colour for the first time in the piece, all switching from soft blues and oranges to a dark red at the same time. The lighting changes very sparingly elsewhere, brightening as Matt changes into Natalie and dimming when Natalie becomes Matt. 

The set design is similarly sparse, with props only being placed around the sides and back of the room. This, along with Miller’s one-man performance, highlights the physical and emotional absences at the heart of the story. Ironically then, there’s something missing from ‘Fixing’ which would elevate it from a very good night to greatness, although it’s hard to put your finger on what exactly that is. Maybe it’s just not going far enough in either its gags or its explorations of trauma, leaving just a bit too much unsaid. And yet, the balance of moods and the various ambiguities- especially in its refusal to offer a clean, neat resolution- are also its strengths! More could have been done with the set, perhaps, or there could have been more development of the physical comedy routine- the repetition and subversion of expectations is a highlight throughout ‘Fixing’, and could have been utilised even more. These explorations of how actions change meaning in different contexts, dovetail nicely with the use of drag. For instance, hearing the voice of Matt’s dad from offstage is an especially nice touch because of how it’s juxtaposed against Matt’s impressions of his father. 

Overall, ‘Fixing’ is funny, tender, and intelligent- here’s hoping it stays around!

The UK tour of ‘Fixing’ concludes on 17th April in Leicester- tickets here.

REVIEW: My Uncle is not Pablo Escobar 

Published on by jaketurnerchanLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A bold, bilingual heist that fuses playful chaos with sharp political bite, demanding visibility for Latinx voices long erased.

I’ve been aware of the strange omission of Latinx people from the UK census for some time, brought to my attention by both activists and friends. Having grown up in a community with latinx people, and finding myself in a community with them today, this has always felt an inconsiderate and unrepresentative choice. This omission is precisely what My Uncle is not Pablo Escobar seeks to recover, starring four latinx women from different backgrounds as they engage in a heist, a storyline interwoven with wacky intermissions that speak more directly to the issue at hand. 

The main thread follows Alejandra (Yanexi Enriquez), a young woman studying for her A-levels whilst holding down a cleaning job at the bank. When her sister Catalina (Lorena Andrea), a prominent journalist, arrives, asking for a favour, Catalina soon finds herself dragged into an investigative operation tasked with taking down a major bank for money laundering. The writers Valentina Andrade, Elizabeth Alvarado, Lucy Wray, and Tommy Ross-Williams, and Joana Nastari (quite the team), do an excellent job making clear the mechanisms of exploitation being committed by this bank, whilst injecting the story with an apt amount of fun and silliness. I found the explanations relatively easy to follow, quite a feat given the amount of information covered. This created further investment in the story, and it was particularly rewarding when the bank itself is actually named, tying this heist to HSBC’s 2012 money laundering scandal. I love that the show is another contribution to not letting them live this one down and not letting us forget, so much so I think that moment could be made even a little bit more clear. 

The main tension with the show comes from its need to tackle its grievances head on, and a want for a humane, nuanced story. I think the fact that the show is best understood by a bilingual spanish/english speaking person is a very interesting linguistic choice that is complimentary to the entirety of the play. The intermission parts did a great job taking us out of the natural world of the play, reminding us that we were watching a very visceral demand for representation. At their best, these parts were funny, revelatory, and brought the room together. Some felt a little heavy handed, underlying points shoehorned in more bluntly, such as a line chanted “British not Borders”. Whilst it would have been nice to have had these points woven more neatly into the play, they felt necessary nonetheless, and made me consider exactly the tension this cast and creative team were working with. Because, if a group of people are made so systemically invisible, how subtle can you really ask them to be? I’d ask for nuance from any good story, but here, the overall frankness was by no means offputting

The cast performed brilliantly with excellent chemistry. The sister’s tension felt fully realised with standout performances by both Enriquez and Andrea. Cecilia Alfonso-Eaton was a fun inclusion in the cast, bringing a lightheartedness that felt true and grounded. Nathaly Sabino had a surprisingly moving portrayal of Honey, a victim of the play and its antics. The consequences were felt, inflicted by a system unappreciative of its necessary migrant workers. There is an underlying story of tragedy for each character, making their unabashed joy even more appreciated. 

It’s worth mentioning the excellently dynamic set and lighting, designed by Tomás Palmer and Roberto Esquenazi Albakes respectively. There are some hilarious choices here, giving the cast great ground to play on. I would suggest the captions be moved lower to ensure better visibility for all, and when mixing voiceover recordings with live microphone speech, the volumes needed to be more aligned for better clarity. But the design of the play overall compliments its fun, often silly, nature. 

There is a lot of love poured into My Uncle is not, owing to its extensive list of collaborators. This alone shows just how present the community is in ours, and recognition of this is not up for question. With My Uncle is not, the show is now getting a full run at Brixton House, one that is definitely worth a watch. 

My Uncle is Not Pablo Escobar is at Brixton House until May 3rd. 

REVIEW: Flyby

Published on by annieyezhoua29f00172fLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Ambitious musical grounded in human fragility

Flyby is a new musical written by Theo Jamieson, and directed and created with Adam Lenson, now playing at Southwark Playhouse Borough. At first glance, it presents itself as a musical about space, but beneath its interstellar aesthetic lies something far more intimate and human: a story about childhood trauma, the fragility of emotion, and the quiet, often invisible ways these forces shape adult relationships.

What immediately stands out is the production design. The use of screens is exceptional as an active storytelling device throughout the show. In the moments set in space, they create a genuine sense of vastness and isolation, making Daniel’s journey feel eerily real. More impressively, these same screens are repurposed to externalise his inner world, replaying countless shameful and deeply uncomfortable memories from his past with a clinical clarity. 

The performances anchor the piece. With a cast of just five, Flyby feels both intimate and emotionally expansive. Each actor carries significant weight, and the chemistry and passion between Daniel and Emily is electric whilst also being believable. Their relationship unfolds less like a romance and more like a collision of unresolved pasts, shaped by formative experiences that neither of them fully understands. What unfolds is a deeply human story about damage; how it’s formed, how it manifests, and how it perpetuates itself across relationships. 

Musically, the songs do a lot of heavy lifting as they actively drive the narrative forward, unpacking character psychology and moving the story along with purpose. The most powerful moment comes towards the end, when Daniel asks a devastatingly simple question: what does it take for people to be nice to him? It’s a line that cuts through the show’s conceptual layers and lands with disarming directness. In that moment, the spectacle falls away, and what remains is something raw, vulnerable, and deeply human.

Flyby is a striking, deeply moving and profoundly human piece of theatre. It lingers not for its premise, but for the uncomfortable truths it surfaces, particularly its unflinching portrayal of how even the most well-intentioned people, in trying their best to love, can still fall short and hurt one another.

This show runs at Southwark Playhouse Borough until 16th May. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Shooting From Below

Published on by Jimena BatresLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Reynolds constantly balances the gut-punch with the punchline, weaving serious critique through moments of effortless hilarity.

A blue hue washes over the Purcell Room at the Southbank Centre as the audience murmurs in anticipation. The crowd is eclectic, but united by the same electric buzz. A spotlight cuts through the noise. Suddenly, silence. Then BAM: Midgitte Bardot storms the stage to the roar of adoring fans, who greet her as if the Messiah herself had returned. And she looks incredible. In that instant, my expectations recalibrated. I knew exactly what I was in for: mayhem, filthy debauchery, and razor-sharp sexual wit, all delivered by an undeniable diva. I was completely on board.

Tamm Reynolds’ bold new show Shooting From Below, directed by Izzy Rabey, returns to the Southbank Centre for its second run– and it is as hilarious as it is bizarre. Equal parts riotous and tender, furious and joyful, the show confronts its audience with both Reynolds’ rage and their community’s lived experience… without ever sacrificing style. Over 60 minutes of glorious chaos, we follow Midgitte Bardot (Reynolds’ drag persona) as she is forced to apologise for a dreadful act she may or may not have committed (spoiler: it might involve those disembodied legs scattered across the stage). Through original songs, biting humour, and a tightly constructed narrative, Bardot shares her experience as a person with dwarfism (with fabulous wigs to match).

The writing is sharp, playful, and deceptively disarming. Reynolds lulls the audience into a false sense of comfort with jokes, audience interaction, and witty lyrics, before revealing the show’s true engine: rage. As they themselves note, the piece interrogates a world in which people wit dwarfism are too often reduced to spectacle– “entertainment, pets, toys, fetishes, dream sequences, musical numbers… most of the time.” It’s a brutal observation, but one delivered with such precision and humour that it lands without ever feeling sermonic or preachy– just undeniably true. Reynolds constantly balances the gut-punch with the punchline, weaving serious critique through moments of effortless hilarity.

As a performer, Tamm is effortless and easy to watch. They command the stage with ease, taking their time with complete confidence that the audience will stay with them– whether they’re adjusting a wig or slowly sipping water. And we do, because we’re hooked. A true multidisciplinary performer, they are a compelling actor, a strong singer, and a brilliantly instinctive comedian. That said, there are moments where pacing falters: extended pauses during costume changes occasionally disrupt the rhythm, particularly one sequence where the stage is left empty for too long. It begins as a gag but overstays its welcome. Still, Reynolds quickly regains momentum. And, as they declare in song, “They were jealous. I was charming.” They’re not wrong. The charm is undeniable.

Visually, the show is a triumph. Maisie Frater’s set design is inventive and striking: a surreal landscape of legs and feet entwined with ivy creates a strange, luminous playground for Bardot to inhabit. It’s imaginative, cohesive, cleverly tied to the narrative and genuinely beautiful– one of the production’s standout elements. The costumes, by Lambdog 1066, are equally impressive. Midgitte Bardot looks stunning throughout– meticulously detailed, perfectly tailored, and gloriously, unapologetically drag.

Overall, Shooting From Below is a riveting, unruly, and fiercely intelligent piece of theatre. And I, for one, will be keeping a very close eye on wherever Midgitte Bardot appears next.

REVIEW: Homegrown Heroes

Published on by Miles MorganLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

If you have a particular fondness for British screen history or nostalgia for film and TV from yesteryear, this is your ideal night out.

Homegrown Heroes: From Bond to Thunderbirds at the Barbican proved to be a spirited and richly nostalgic celebration of British screen music. The evening set out to showcase some of the UK’s most iconic cinematic and television soundtracks, and it succeeded in delivering both spectacle and sentiment in equal measure.

The event was the opening gala of the London Soundtrack Festival, which is now in its second year. It was brought to life by Artistic Director Michael Beek, conductor Ben Foster and esteemed film composer David Arnold. Arnold was present on the night and told anecdotes about the inception of each composition. He was also presented on stage with the Gunning Inspiration Award, which recognises industry figures who have made a lasting impact on music with their distinction and craft. The recipient of the award headlines the festival each year. The orchestra celebrated iconic British screen heroes, from the retro-futuristic charm of Thunderbirds to the suave cool of 007. From the opening bars the orchestra leaned confidently into familiar territory with themes including Thunderbirds, Poirot, Atonement, Wallace & Gromit, 633 Squadron and All Creatures Great and Small being performed alongside more contemporary compositions including Rivals and First Dates.

There was a clear sense of enjoyment among the performers which translated well to the audience and helped maintain momentum throughout the first half. These session players really are the unsung heroes of soundtrack music.

The second half was dedicated entirely to Arnold’s cinematic compositions, with a rousing sequence which included the symphonies from Independence Day, Godzilla, Sherlock, Good Omens and others. But it was the unmistakable swagger and drama of Bond themes which set the tone. Compositions from Tomorrow Never Dies, The World is Not Enough, Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace hit all the right notes with clear-cut precision and were arguably what a large portion of the audience had turned out for. White Knight, the nine- minute-long theme of the opening action sequence in Tomorrow Never Dies, was undoubtedly the spine- tingling highlight of the whole concert. The orchestra handled it with flair, capturing both the sultry elegance and explosive energy that define the franchise.

Overall, Homegrown Heroes was an entertaining and warmly received tribute to Britain’s rich legacy of screen music. While not flawless, it delivered enough charm, energy, and nostalgia to leave the audience satisfied. A strong four-star performance that both celebrates the past and reminds us why these scores continue to resonate today.

The London Soundtrack Festival concludes on Sunday April 12th 2026, with a variety of concerts, talks, Q&A’s and podcast recordings on offer.

REVIEW: Mackerel Thursday

Published on by Flora HemmingwayLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Absurd, intense and darkly funny – this uncannily entertaining tragicomedy expertly plays with allegory and ambiguity.

The plot follows three individuals living together in an apparently humble flat; Cameron (Aoife Moss) and George (Christopher Cox) live under Nancy’s rule with what is apparently a ‘mutually’ agreed upon constitution. Nancy (Malcolm Webb, also the playwright) claims these rules-to-live-by protect them from the outside world, but we see the invasive ways in which he dictates their lives. The constitution includes such statutes as the following:

  • No Speaking Spanish
  • No Franchise Burger Consumption
  • Deodorant will not be tolerate
  • Swearing is reserved for Fridays
  • Strictly no outsiders
  • Fish will be eaten every Thursday

Webb juxtaposes moments of sinister control with ridiculous humour and the audience is drawn into the characters’ inner worlds and co-dependent dynamics. As we watch these almost non-events play out, we’re invited to draw connections and infer meaning from these most mundane yet ridiculous scenarios, from enforced group dinners of fish and a single small potatoe or drinking tea with the exact ‘right amount of ‘sugar’ and smuggling Lynx Africa contraband. The story keeps its audience on its toes as we must make and remake our assumptions about what this play is truly about.

The relationship between each character is initially vague but slowly develops throughout. Ultimately ambiguous, we are led to believe in a kind-of cold, hard father-son relationship between Nancy and George, and a spousal relationship between Nancy and Cam; with Nancy as the patriarchal head of the household. But these characters aren’t actually related and can love truly grow in such conditions of control? Is the action an allegory for political regimes of the past and future, or the lines between addiction and freedom versus protection and control. Nancy makes decisions for all in the household with every single move made by Cam and George being monitored and restricted. We see them struggle to leave this clearly uncomfortable and humiliating situation. The play leaves the audience wondering at every turn, why do they stay? What’s truly stopping them from walking out the door and never seeing Nancy again? Is the world beyond that door really so awful?

The clever direction and excellent acting built tension organically and humorously. The transitions between scenes were effective and inventive whilst the set, props and lighting helped paint this subtly uncanny yet familiar depiction of a ‘home’. Moss’ performance had brilliant energy and physicality while the intense highs and lows her character faced were well impeccably executed. These contrasted interestingly with Cox’s goofier, sensitive and genuine performance as George. Webb’s deft portrayal of strangely caring dictator with undeveloped ‘daddy issues’, psychotic tendencies is darkly funny and reminiscent of Red Dwarf’s insufferable, exacting and somehow still palatable Arther Rimmer.

An entertaining and intellectual play with great direction by Alec Osburne, exploring liberties, human connection, and freedom vs protection with accessible humour. Mackerel Thursday certainly delivered on their promise of a unique experience as ‘equally as left-field as it is emotional’.

This show runs at The Old Red Lion from 9th-11th April. Tickets available here.

REVIEW: TWO

Published on by isabellescerriLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

An impressive performance that raises a glass to those who are often misheard

When the sun’s out, where can you often find Londonders? The local boozer is certainly your best bet, and Jim Cartwright’s TWO provided for a perfect evening of entertainment. Set in a bar, the talented Peter Caulfield and Kellie Shirley welcome us into the hustle and bustle of life within and beyond the pub. From the off, we are introduced to the pure skill and commitment of the actors as they serve drinks, collect glasses and provide an authentic montage of demanding hospitality work. 

Originally written in 1989 and first performed at the Bolton Octagon Theatre, Cartwright’s play seeks to tell the tale behind the drunken regulars, odd tourists and inter-generational punters that visit the pub. Playing 14 different characters, the audience gets to experience the inner turmoil and relationships that are often overlooked. 

James Haddrell’s direction is on point. From the swift costume transitions to neat entrances and exits, the performance struggles to miss a beat. The characters mostly feel full, and particular stand out characterisation lies in authentic accent work and body language. We meet a range of pub goers, from old ladies to hilarious eccentric couples. The story begins with the pub’s landowners, and from the play’s beginning, we learn of a lengthy and complicated life-work relationship. 

Though the pace and rehearsed transitions are highly applaudable, the weight of showcasing fourteen different characters does somewhat come to show. Some punters demonstrate some darker themes, which could dictate an entire play. Where an emotionally and physically abused couple come into the picture, it seems the demands of the play’s rapid multirolling reduce the space and attention that is needed for such situations. The moment a young boy walks into the bar sparks a turn in the relationship between the landlady and landlord, and we see an emotional breakdown from both sides. This moment is rather heavy-hitting and allows for an emotive opening from the bartenders. Nearing the end of the play, this moment adds to an intense buildup. Though very key, I think the outburst that this child’s entering the establishment caused would have benefited from some previous hints from the landlords. 

Nevertheless, the commitment to characterisation and audience is quite spectacular. The joy and warmth that accompany the familiar pub setting are a credit to all of TWO’s creative team. Where the set and direction are on point, the energy and dedication of both Peter Caulfeild and Kellie Shirley in performing as fourteen different characters is really impressive. The play leaves the audience with an abundance of feelings. TWO makes you feel warm, sad, giddy and ready to go to the pub, all at the same time. 

REVIEW: Invisible Me

Published on by Ben BreenLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A warm, moving account of being single in old age

One in three UK divorces involve couples in their 50s and above, with over-50s the fastest-growing user base for dating apps like Tinder and Bumble. Invisible Me follows three such singletons, all newly 60 and living within a few streets of each other. Alec (Kevin N Golding) has bought himself a leather jacket, and still smiles at ladies half his age in the street and down the “caff”; Lynn (Tessa Peake-Jones) has taken a cleaning job to ensure she keeps leaving the house, her confidence having been crushed when her husband walked out on her years ago; Jack (James Holmes) runs through imagined conversations with his dead husband, debating whether now is the time to move on.

These stories are initially told as distinct monologues, narrated across each another but independently. It’s a bleak portrait of aging in the UK – framing a kind of quiet social disappearance. Each character remains onstage as the others talk, bodies scrunched up or slumped in a chair. As each story unfolds, however, they grow in confidence – one character finds themselves on OnlyFans! There are opportunities for healing – some taken, others missed. Across the show’s tight 80 minutes, a combination of dark humour and emotive drama simmers beneath.

Becoming familiar with each character amplifies this humour and drama. Lynn’s path most closely tracks the show’s trajectory: a chance encounter with a sex worker sets in motion events empowering her to seize her own narrative. Jack is harder to reach, torn between the fidelity of his memories and the need to continue living his life. The show doesn’t shy away from this rending sadness, and James Holmes similarly pulls no punches when delivering it. These are consistently the play’s most affecting moments. Alec is written as a “positive” counterweight to offset the doom and gloom; but instead comes across as frightened and in denial. The show’s misreading darkens the piece, sharpening the drama but leaving earlier scenes unrelenting in their sadness.

Much of the humour derives from the banal specifics of ageing – excitement at free London bus travel, the joy of grabbing a coffee whilst everyone’s at work, and the inevitable medical test kit through the letterbox – ably delivered by the whole cast. A very funny scene involves all three independently discovering the depravity on online dating, and another where Jack catalogues each aspect of his body in the mirror, complete with attractiveness rating from 1-10.

The show’s singular perspectives effectively capture each character’s unique isolation, and as their narratives slowly intersect each life is woven into a shared story. A satisfying conclusion provides a thoroughly joined-up testament to the healing power of human connection. It’s a subtly beautiful storytelling device, naturally building pace as each character emerges from their shell.

Invisible Me started out livestreamed as part of the Bloomsbury Festival during the COVID19 lockdowns of 2020, which can only have heightened its feeling of isolation. In this in-person version, the staging grows alongside its characters – starting out minimal, and blooming into confidence. By pushing the characters into unusually extreme situations, the show blunts its observational insight. And weightier issues are alluded to – an AIDS diagnosis, an abusive relationship – but left unexplored.

Invisible Me tackles a rapidly expanding but under-represented experience with confidence and creativity. Its perspective is narrower than it should be, but still delivers both gut-punches and belly-laughs. Bold direction and strong performances ensure the characters’ journeys are captured not just in their words, but in the show’s staging itself. The result is a piece that earns its uplift without softening its emotional edge.

Invisible Me plays at the Southwark Playhouse until 2nd May, with Tuesday and Saturday matinees. Tickets can be purchased here.