In Conversation with Alexis Gregory

We sat down with Alexis Gregory whose new comedy thriller Smoke comes to King’s Head Theatre from 2nd-11th November.

Get tickets here: https://kingsheadtheatre.com/whats-on/smoke

Smoke dives into the blurred line between reality and fantasy in the post-truth era. What inspired you to explore this theme, and how does it relate to your personal experiences, particularly your own encounter with privacy invasion?

I think Smoke has really been brewing in me for decades. But the majority of the writing was done over the summer of 2022. I sat on my doorstep to do so, and got a suntan at the same time. I was struck by gay men, in my feeds, filming their psychotic episodes and sharing them, and writing and sharing posts that were also very heightened and clearly also indicated psychological delusions. As a gay man, and knowing how prevalent drugs are on the scene, I made an assumption that some of these episodes are drug related. I also got hacked, and they tried to get into all my accounts, from my social media to my Apple ID, to my PayPal. I had the idea of Alex, my character in Smoke, being hacked, and ‘receiving’ a message via his deceased lover’s account. A couple of days after that, I got a fake message on Insta from a gay guys account who had recently died. I couldn’t not continue to develop Smoke.

Your play focuses heavily on themes of surveillance, paranoia, and self-documentation in the digital age. How do you think the rise of social media and the loss of privacy have particularly impacted queer identities and relationships?

From a gay male point of view, self-documentation can be very appealing. Many gay men, especially younger, like to be looked at, and live elevated lives, or live lives that echo those of celebrities. I’m always fascinated by gay men posting ‘Ask Me A Question’ in their Insta stories. Many gay men also love sharing transformation pics; look at me then, and look at me now, and how much ‘better’ I look now. Modern gay lifestyles have always been fed by the aesthetic, and beauty. And today, the modern gay urban experience can encourage narcissism and self-obsession and self-centredness. These are not alien traits to many gay men. One can leave some of that behind, as one gets older. But not always. Presenting perfection on Insta is also appealing to gay men I think, as we often are driven to overachieve, and what’s the point of overachieving if no one knows about it.

In Smoke, Alex receives a message from his deceased ex-partner’s Instagram, sparking a dark and suspenseful journey. How did you balance the thriller aspect with the raw emotional exploration of queer life and relationships?

The queerness of the piece, in terms of it’s setting, themes, the characters, and what they experience is totally integrated into the script. In ’Smoke’ in the shape of a thriller, and dark, biting comedy. It is all from me, and so filtered via a queer lens; my own. You could look at the script, and your evening at the theatre in various ways. The tale, and journey of a queer man on the edge in London, or of ‘just’ a man on the edge in London. Much of what pushes Alex to act how he does is specifically because of his queerness; his experiences as a gay adolescent, with drugs, in gay relationships, the specific alienation he experiences etc. I think a queer audience will pick up on all this, and view in a certain way.

You’ve mentioned that this play marks a departure from your previous work. What challenges did you face while creating this more stripped-back, plot-driven production, and how did collaborating with Campbell X influence the direction of the piece?

Well this isn’t the first time one of my plays has had a plot!! I think the challenges will happen in the performance, in front of an audience. I am very exposed with this one. Nothing to rely on apart from me and the words in terms of conveying the story to the audience. No clever lighting design or soundscape. The audience is fully lit throughout too. We’re all in it together. Writing and performance wise, I’m quite ‘big. I’m interested in what theatre ‘is’, rather than reality. However, in Smoke, I do lean into a more naturalistic performance, although Alex is pretty wild which adds to the heightened nature of what’s unfolding on stage. I think, writing-wise, this is my most conversational piece. Again, that felt natural. Campbell has completely embraced my vision from the play, and added so much to it already; encouraging me to lean into the ‘selfie\ style documentation in the palms branding for example, and inherently understanding Alex’s journey as a gay man, and his drive to, quote simply survive the city as a man,

Humor plays a key role in tackling heavy themes like conspiracy theories and digital obsession in Smoke. How did you approach using humor to address such intense and personal topics, and what impact do you hope it has on the audience?

I don’t consciously approach integrating humour into my work. It just happens. I feel that I ‘channel’ the humour. It happens naturally. Normally when I write, I know how each funny line with land with an audience and how they respond. However, in each script I write there, are often two lines that get big laughs every-night, that I didn’t anticipate the audience would find funny. They can even be quote ‘throwaway lines’. So I am surprised by my scripts, and audiences, often. The humour is very knowing, from a queer perspective, I think. And so I hope there are laughs of recognition. Alex is a Bad Gay, and Bad Gays are ALWAYS more fun to depict.

In Conversation With Ivo de Jager

We sat down with writer, Ivo de Jager, whose new show Sweetmeat comes to the Old Red Lion from 5-23 November.

What inspired you to explore dark themes like sadistic desires, online echo chambers, and gay loneliness in Sweetmeat, and how do they connect to your personal experiences?

I was a teenager in the mid-to-late 00s, which was the heyday of shock/extreme web content and a time when constant casual homophobia was still common, and I’d try to “deaden” my emotional reactions to those things by exposing myself to them constantly. Although Sweetmeat isn’t about that, my background absolutely affected the cynical attitude the characters have towards pro-LGBTQ+ corporate endeavours and the current saccharine queer media push. There’s a strong tradition of queer art being subversive and unafraid to confront its own community, while touching on raw, relevant issues within it, and I wanted to contribute to that.

Post/mid-COVID, we’re seeing a strong resurgence of reactionary anti-LGBTQ+ feelings and a loss of physical queer spaces, both of which reinforce the otherness of being LGBTQ+. There’s a tendency to want to escape that through online affirmation, which isn’t bad in and of itself, but which can feed into unhealthy habits. This is what happens to Sweetmeat’s Sigmund, who manages to find someone in real life who brings his virtual sadism offline, with dire consequences.

Your fascination with the Armin Meiwes case clearly influenced Sweetmeat. What were the challenges of adapting such a shocking real-life story for the stage?

It’s not a one-to-one adaptation, but I cribbed Meiwes’s isolation and corresponding cannibalistic fantasies for Sigmund, and the traumatic death of Brandes’s (Meiwes’s willing victim) mother and his upbringing by a homophobic father for Christian. I wanted to understand the extremes of Meiwes’s loneliness and Brandes’s self-loathing. They’re feelings everyone recognises, and LGBTQ+ people experience them keenly. The crime of consensual murder is horrific, but there’s intimacy there, too.

The main challenge was avoiding making it gratuitous. I wanted to portray Sigmund and Christian’s sadomasochistic sexualities and desires frankly, but without being exploitative. The violence in the show is contained to a handful of potent scenes, which director Conor and actors Matt and Jamie are working to make vulnerable and tasteful. It’s ultimately a tragic love story between very complicated people, so audiences expecting a grindhouse gorefest will walk away disappointed.

The play touches on mental health, rejection, and validation within the queer community. What impact do you hope Sweetmeat has on LGBTQ+ audiences and conversations around these themes?

On one hand, I hope people will feel seen in the themes addressed by the show, because I’ve personally always found comfort in my insecurities and fears being recognised. At the same time, I want to do my part (along with the rest of the SweetTeam) in keeping queer art a little freaky. There’s a veneer of acceptance in LGBTQ+ conversations, which encourages limited openness about our mental health struggles, but it’s frowned upon to really go into deep-seated issues caused by the trauma of growing up queer, or to talk about intrusive, unhealthy fantasies/fetishes – unless you’re in a space that sexualises and encourages those thoughts in the short term. There’s nothing wrong with seeking out those spaces if that’s what you’re after, but I think it’s important to stay grounded and not to relegate uncomfortable topics to the fringes, where acting on them can have real, harmful consequences.

Essentially, I think there’s a combination of corporatised LGBTQ+ discourse and forced positivity that marginalises a lot of people, and I hope the show can add a different perspective.

You’ve blended verbatim theatre with folklore in Sweetmeat. How did you balance these styles, and what effect do you hope this mix creates?

The verbatim element is featured a few times throughout the play, with comments and titles ripped from forums catering to gorehounds (fans of footage of real life graphic violence). The folklore is present in the form of English, Irish, and Swedish mythology, highlighting the othering of “strange” and unwell children and women through the invention of changelings and female spirits who ruin Good, Straight Men’s lives.

The folklore aspect came up organically while I was writing the play, as a consequence of the gorehound research. in both cases, people try to cope with their circumstances by scapegoating vulnerable members of society. In less scientifically developed and more economically troubled times and places, non-conforming members of society are explained away as literally non-human, so that cruelty against them is curative or deserved. In an alienated capitalist context, some seek out “reality” through the suffering of others, often through a lens of sexualisation, mockery, or relief, like, “at least this couldn’t happen to me.” The victims in gore and shock content are sacrificed for the reassurance of the viewers, with the detachment of the internet and a screen, in the same way outsiders were/are persecuted for the comfort of the community, with the detachment of dehumanisation and magic.

These parallels aren’t drawn explicitly in Sweetmeat, but I hope it’s the sort of thing that clicks subconsciously.

Having staged Sweetmeat since 2017, how has the play evolved? Have shifts in internet culture or how we discuss dark fantasies influenced your approach?

Although the main beats and general outline of the play have remained consistent, the content and perspective have changed. The relationship between Sigmund and Christian was never depicted as healthy, but I think the exploration of the characters has benefited from my increased writing and life experience. Sweetmeat started as anxieties and interests dashed out in script form, and has matured into a show with reasoned analysis and engaging theatrical practice.

I believe the play is more relevant now than it was in the past. The internet is more rigidly controlled and commercial, political discourse is more fragmented and frightening for queer people, and the rules around what can and can’t be discussed have become more restrictive. You only need to look at how words like murder/suicide, rape, or paedophile have morphed into unalive, grape, and .PDF file in online spaces out of a desire to please nebulous TikTok/YouTube/Instagram algorithms or censors.

From a queer standpoint, I think my curmudgeonly attitude is summed up well in the essay What’s a Good Gay Film? by B. Ruby Rich, which fears that LGBTQ+ art has suffered from “mediocrity [coming] home to roost now that the barricades have come down,” with stories diluted to please corporate overlords. Like Rich, I acknowledge the importance of straightforward feel-good stories for our community, and I know my perspective is a bit “old man yells at cloud,” but from polling the extensive sample size of My Friends, I know scornful gay weirdos also want to be represented in art.

All in all, we’re not going to change these social trends with one theatrical production, but I hope we can serve up something fresh and exciting for people who find the current standard suffocating.

https://www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk/sweetmeat.html

REVIEW: Brace Brace


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Buckle-in for the turbulence of this action-packed drama 


*some spoilers ahead*

This 70-minute thriller by Oli Forsyth follows two newlyweds, Ray and Sylvia, who suddenly find themselves on board a hijacked plane en route to their honeymoon. The action is immediate from the start, with the plane is hijacked Sylvia becomes a hero, fighting the hijacker and giving the pilot time to regain consciousness when they’re a mere 4 seconds away from a fatal crash. 

Anna Reid has created a masterful design for this production, constructing a hinged boarding bridge that leads from a hole in the stage up to a closed-off cockpit. Set in the traverse, all the action happens around this structure, demonstrating how the event of the hijacking remains an inescapable presence in the characters’ lives. 

Direction by Daniel Raggett is similarly excellent, giving the play a dynamic energy and making total use of the small stage. Assisted by movement and fight directors George Mann and Alex Payne, this play showcases several thrilling movement sequences that leave the audience gasping for breath. 

A constant stream of shivers run down my spine during the hijacking scene, every element of stagecraft works together in perfect harmony to create a terrifyingly realistic portrayal of such a traumatic event. This might be a good time to advise avoiding this play if you have a fear of flying. 

A true ensemble piece, all three actors give exceptional performances. Anjana Vasan as a steadfast then spiralling Sylvia, Phil Dunster as her unempathetic husband Ray and Craige Els as a range of characters from father to pilot to the hijacker himself. 

However, Forsyth’s play stumbles over two key pillars of its premise. Firstly, that swiftly after his arrest, the hijacker is released from custody on grounds of paranoia causing a psychotic episode. This lack of legal repercussion feels unrealistic, and is paired with the second unbelievable phenomenon, that no-one other than Sylvia seems to care. She is painted as the crazy, vindictive character seeking retribution against the hijacker who broke her ribs, while all the other passengers, the media and even the father of a 7-year old girl on the plane are totally at peace with his release. The play might even make more sense if the opposite were true, that everyone was seeking justice except one passenger. 

In a world of cancel culture and mob-mentality, it’s difficult to believe everyone has been so easily able to forgive a hijacker attempting to murder 400 people, regardless of his precarious mental state. Every other element of this production is flawless, but this stumbling block prevents it from packing a punch. 

Nevertheless, this is a thrilling play from start to finish. The brief running time barely gives the audience a chance to catch their breath and with a gruesome final scene, the end of this play leaves us reeling. It’s not quite realistic enough for me to cancel my next flight, but it’ll definitely make me buckle my seatbelt.

REVIEW: Port City Signature


Rating: 3 out of 5.

Often captivating, often mystifying drama/thriller Will she shoot the sheriff? 


Playwright Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller’s latest play is a rather original take on the ‘a stranger comes to town’ motif. Co-directed by Brimmer-Beller and Phoebe Rowell John, Port City Signature takes us through a single evening in which a young woman, the Newcomer, walks alone into a quiet local pub in a sleepy seaside town after getting off the train at the wrong stop. Accosted by the Regular, and the Lady, serving behind the bar, who attempt to convince the Newcomer to shoot the town’s local sheriff before she boards the last train out of town forever.

The play poses an enticing question to the audience at the beginning: ‘Will she shoot the sheriff?’. The play then draws us closer to the answer to that question at a healthy pace. Why then, did I leave the theatre feeling somewhat unsatisfied? 

Despite the play being grounded in realism, set in an unconfirmed time, though presumably the 70s or 80s, the premise of the plot never felt believable. The idea that two strangers who exist in a morally grey area between good and evil would ask a timid stranger to commit murder never truly sat right. As the plot advances, more and more questionable decisions are made that feel inconsistent in sequence from what we previously saw or heard minutes earlier from the same respective characters. 

The most important character, the Newcomer, portrayed by Meg Clarke, is perhaps the largest enigma – the journey of timid stranger hard on their luck to potential executioner would have perhaps landed better had the play been longer, and the character given more time to develop. In addition, I would assume a clear decision was made to have the Newcomer speak in a strong ‘Received Pronunciation’ accent, presumably to show a surface level dichotomy from the way they speak and their thought process around a potential murder, though at times this felt overdone. 

The characters of the Regular and the Lady were played well by Paddy Echlin and Katherine Lea, respectively, but it was David Carter as the Sheriff who, despite having the smallest role, made the largest impression on stage. Built up as a bogeyman whose death would serve the greater good, when the Sheriff finally makes his entrance, Carter’s demeanour is intimidating, and his energy creates an instant oppressive fog of tension. 

As a piece of entertainment, Port City Signature is best enjoyed without too much critical thought. It’s engaging, original, and even fun if you’re a fan of gun-driven tension. When you start to challenge it for its realism, then the cracks begin to show. 

REVIEW: The Witching Hour


Rating: 5 out of 5.

The best of silver-screen horror brought to the stage. 


The Witching Hour is a spine-tingling success. James Williams’ original show is not for the faint of heart; somehow he has managed to bring the best of silver screen horror to the stage. Brilliantly written, staged, and performed, The Witching Hour is an evocative, mind-bending work of theater. 

The story immediately draws the audience in. Mark Kitto, as Professor Dubois, made us a part of his world with a lecture in which we were the students. Kitto’s performance was phenomenal, perfectly embodying the different facets of the historian Dubois; his portrayal of the Reverend was of equal brilliance, personifying the traditionally dark witch trial era persecutor. Eleanor May Blackburn’s performance as Elspeth Langford was chilling. Witnessing her suffering and hearing her howls was gut-wrenching; her screams in the close of act one left the entire theater frozen. Though an incredible cast as a whole, additional accolades must be given to Saul Bache and Jessica Porter as the Bailey siblings. Their chemistry was the perfect portrayal of the sibling relationship. Bache’s performance as Sam infused a wonderful lightness into the show; he was a constant source of amusement despite the intense subject matter yet he also effortlessly conveyed great emotional depth throughout his frightening journey. Porter as Erin Bailey was nothing short of incredible. Her performance was emotional and invigorating, bringing to mind Florence Pugh in Ari Aster’s Midsommar. Even now, I can hear her terrified screams echoing in my head. 

Set and Lighting Designer, Alex Johnson, has worked magic. Stone steps, cellar doors, herb gardens, and, most impressively, a wall of carved skulls are just a few of the incredible things Johnson used to draw us into Torhill Wood. Limited and well-placed lights create the perfect setting for a thriller; particularly intelligent was the use of under-lighting which gave the actors a ghost-story glow. Dan Clarkson’s sound design complimented Johnson’s genius. The eerie music and echoed screams gave the audience the same anticipatory anxiety that makes horror films so addictive. 

It is difficult to discuss the best of The Witching Hour without ruining it because it is the twists and turns of the plot that makes it so memorable. Williams’ work keeps the audience on its toes as more and more information is revealed to us. The story goes far beyond a simple thriller; drawing on history and psychology, it culminates in an emotional tale that will tug on your heart-strings even as it sends your blood pressure through the roof. The parallels between characters and the show’s perfectly balanced bookending is a testament to Williams’ talent as a playwright and director. 

The Witching Hour is an experience unto itself. Theater comes in many forms, but it is not often that horror is brought to the stage especially with this degree of success. I would love to detail every brilliant aspect of this show, but that would ruin it, so all I can recommend is that you take the earliest opportunity to go and see it for yourself. 

The Witching Hour is an unforgettable theatrical experience.

REVIEW: I’m Gonna Marry You Tobey Maguire


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Disturbing thriller and farcical comedy smashed together with the world of Tobey Maguire.


I’m Gonna Marry You Tobey Maguire is now playing in London following a successful debut in New York last year. It describes itself as a comedy, but this description is wholly inadequate. A dark comedy? Perhaps. A comedy thriller? Maybe. A disturbing darkly comic show that descends into farce? Probably. This show is written by Samantha Hurley, directed by Tyler Struble, and stars Tessa Alberton, reprising the role she played in New York, as Shelby Hinkley. Shelby is the 14 year old president of the Tobey Maguire fan club, and she just so happens to have kidnapped Tobey, played by Anders Hayward, and is keeping him in her basement. 

From the title of this show, and the description as a straight comedy, I was expecting a camp-tastic ridiculous out and out laugh a minute comedy. When the show actually started, I spent a solid 30 minutes without a single laugh. We are introduced to Shelby as a manic and lonely fan girl who has kidnapped a man and is holding him hostage. There were a few comedic lines, but the set up and the way they were played really made them more disturbing to me than comedic. This is in no way saying it was bad, it just really went against my expectations, which perhaps made it have even more of an impact. The comedy does start to build more, with some surprisingly heartwarming moments, and then the final 15-20 minutes was some of the funniest theatre I have seen in a long time. 

Kyle Birch as Brenda Dee Cankles is an absolute highlight, drawing the biggest laughs of the entire show as an outrageous and over the top estate agent. The character itself only appears twice, but is very memorable on both occasions. Birch is hugely entertaining, but I still don’t fully understand the character. Brenda seems to come out of both nowhere and a whole other planet. It brings such a different energy to the show that I still cannot decide if she was real in the world of the show, or a joint drug addled psychosis by the other characters. Either way, an absolute highlight. 

The 3 actors in this show all gave strong performances, but Tessa Alberton gives a tour de force performance and completely disappears into the role of a 14 year old superfan. She is energetic, sorrowful, ridiculous, menacing at times, and absolutely captivating to watch. She performs really well with Hayward and the interactions between the two are the bedrock of the show.

The scenic design by Rodrigo Hernandez Martinez is brilliant, with countless annotated posters of Tobey plastered all over the walls. I highly recommend arriving early to this show so that you have some time to look at the walls around the stage and behind the audience.

One particularly funny moment that was specific to press night was when Hayward does some “awkward audience interaction” where Tobey muses on the difficulties of fame and the effects of proximity to fame. The audience member that he pointed out to speak with about this however, was singer/songwriter/youtuber Dodie, someone rather famous herself, so this added some extra laughs for some of those in the audience.

In conclusion, this show is tonally very interesting and unique, in a way that works most of the time, but the melding of some of the more disturbing aspects with high farcical comedy sometimes felt a bit clumsy. However, I wholeheartedly recommend this show if you want a good night out, and also if you just want to learn a little bit more about Tobey Maguire’s life in 2004. 

REVIEW: Replica @ the Connections Festival


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An original – and sinister – exploration of the dangers of misinformation


Each year since 1995, the National Theatre’s Connections Festival has commissioned new plays for performance by youth theatre groups across the country. 13-19 year olds are inextricably involved at every stage of the process – from workshopping with the writers to running tech at the performance – which promises stories hyper-relevant to British teenagers and rarely seen on the stage. This year’s iteration involves over 6000 young people across 33 theatres, tackling issues such as wellbeing, introversion, the desirability of success, and anxiety.

Titas Halder’s Replica is a fresh, urgent take on the power of misinformation, told through the story of a school trip gone wrong. Upon returning from an archaeological excavation site, rumours swirl that one classmate has been replaced by a “thing” whilst exploring its caves. The gossip spirals, and before they know it this group of schoolchildren are trying to work out how they can test if one of their peers is even human. Can they intimidate him into “glitching”? Can he demonstrate genuine creativity?

It’s novel to see science-fiction at the theatre, especially one staged like a gothic horror. Replica is at its strongest when building this sinister atmosphere: an otherworldly rendition of Radiohead’s Creep standing out as particularly effective, bathed in red light and writhing bodies. Although the writing can be a little on-the-nose with its theme – both flat earth and fake news get explicit mentions – the script maintains a good mix of tension and humour which sees the story unfold at a satisfying pace.

This being youth theatre, there are some areas to develop in the performances: voice projection could be more effective, some of the ‘bigger’ emotions aren’t fully bought into, and a scene which should be quite violent is shied away from in the moment. But this is youth theatre dialled up to an 11. Sound and lighting work effectively to build a menacing atmosphere, and the staging is simple yet effective, with LED doorways shifting around the stage.

Sir Robert Pattinson Academy supplies a cast who are convincing in their performances. The two lead characters – Sam, the boy who has been replaced, and Cora, the girl he became friends with on the trip – are compelling. They are given ample opportunity to show off their skill in a tight script, bouncing off one another with great intensity, and building suspense through ominous monologues.

This reminds us that whilst the Connections Festival is important for developing the next generation of thespians, what makes it really exciting is its urgent and innovative writing. In Replica, we have a genuinely sinister sci-fi-cum-horror story, with its finger on the pulse of 21st century concerns.

The Connections Festival runs each year across the country. Applications to take part in 2025 are currently open.

REVIEW: The Woman in Black

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Stephen Mallatratt’s stage adaptation of Susan Hill’s horror novel proves that a well-told story doesn’t need big production flashy gimmicks to delight an audience

The collective giddy anticipation of Christmas in combination with being frightened out of your skin might seem an unlikely pairing, but Stephen Mallatratt’s adaptation of The Woman in Black shows how undeniably enjoyable such an atmosphere can be. The Playhouse in Liverpool has chosen to host the classic play this year for its festive period, playing to packed audiences of young and old. I was one such audience member this week, shuffling in out of the harsh wind and rain alongside the other shivering counterparts with the hopes of being chilled and thrilled by the evening’s theatrics. And cold we remained once inside! Coats, scarves, mittens and wooly hats remained firmly on once seated and persistent sniffles could be heard throughout from us audience members. I thought that surely making the theatre chilly was a directorial choice to contribute to a spooky atmosphere, but when you find yourself persistently distracted from the happenings of the stage wondering why it’s so bloody cold I’m not sure if the intended outcome is achieved. 

However, I digress! The play is adapted from Susan Hill’s 1983 novel of the same name and has been a presence in theaters since 1987.

Actors Malcolm James and Mark Hawkins make up our double act as Arthur Kipps, an elderly lawyer wishing to be released from fears of a dreadful curse he believes has haunted his family, and the unnamed young actor he hires to help him act out his memories of the awful experience at Eel Marsh House in the eerie Gothic market town of Crythin Gifford. We’re introduced by a comic scene of Kipps sheepishly attempting to read the opening of his recollections while being bolstered by the effervescent young actor character. The two gradually warm to each other, and with the actor’s cues and instructions, Kipps loses his nerves and becomes skillfully adept at playing his story’s many characters. The pacing is slow but steady, as we gradually learn that the root of this terror is attributed to the haunting presence of a woman dressed in black. 

The staging is kept at a minimum; tattered dirty curtains, a coat rack and a wicker basket are heavily relied on, but this doesn’t hinder proceedings due to the play’s vivid storytelling. Expect great soundscaping, heavy smoke, creepy shadows, and excellent use of dramatic lighting. We were often plunged into complete darkness and left there to stew in anticipation and nervous giggles only to then have illumination from only a shakily-held torch or a spotlight from above to great atmospheric effect. The several ‘jumpscare’ moments throughout were nicely paced and did the trick in terms of shaking us all up. 

The play’s climax was definitely foreseeable, however, but leaves you feeling unsettled and shaken. I thought that the play’s final concluding lines fell somewhat flat, and rather than concluding with a bang, went out with a little bit of a whimper. As a live theatre experience, The Woman in Black was certainly enjoyable. I think that it’s few lacking aspects of it could certainly be tweaked, but I would recommend you go along and see for yourself.

REVIEW: The Changeling

Rating: 2 out of 5.

A reimagining of a Jacobean classic unfortunately fails to thrill

For the spectre-filled month of October, Lazurus Theatre Company have brought The Changeling to the Southwark Playhouse. By Middleton and Rowley this acclaimed Jacobean drama explores the concept of sin and how one sin often snowballs into evil and increasingly worse deeds Perhaps erroneously marketed as a thriller by Lazurus, this is less a jump scare, edge of your seats story but instead a slow expose on pride, selfishness and arrogance.

Having been written in the 1600s this play dialogue is in Early Modern English – all its unruliness and verboseness is reminiscent of Shakespeare which may make it offputting to some of the audience. Shakespeare has the benefit of being well known from GSCE English and audiences can still find a familiarity in the works and rhythm but the Changeling was hard going in all honesty. It certainly took me a few minutes to tune in my ear and I often found if any of the cast stumbled or spoke even slightly quietly I lost the gist of what they were saying.

I further dwelled on the issue of the language when on reading the programme I saw the company prided themselves on revitalising and showcasing classic works whilst making them accessible to the contemporary audience. The only nods towards this noble aim was the setting of the stage – an art deco conference table, the odd costume choice of officewear and the replacement of the ‘Madhouse’ scenes with an inhouse band. All of these felt at odds and failed to come together in a cohesive vision. Exploring the language in ways that could make the dialogue itself more accessible to those watching would have been an interesting take as would have a clear vision for this ‘boardroom style set. Instead we ended up with a few distinct directorial decisions that fell short.

The inhouse ‘Patients’ band was probably the best decision made by the company which added a bit of comedy to an otherwise miserable tale – the asylum scenes were originally intended to add levity by the playwrights so it was good to see these weren’t cut all together. Special shoutout to Mikko Juan whose song in the second half got great engagement from the audience.

The cast was undoubtedly full of talented individuals but the energy unfortunately felt mismatched. Colette O’Rourke as Beatrice Joanna was on a whole different level when it came to her delivery and characterisation – she felt fully immersed in the piece which was admirable but almost at odds with the other casts more dry delivery. Henrietta Rhodes as Diaphanta showed some real flair of attitude in her role and I wished that we’d seen more of her character. It is difficult to fault the cast for their performances as the play didn’t offer them much opportunity to delve into their characters. The dialogue often dragged on preventing much chemistry from forming between cast members as each waited for the other to finish before starting.

As an evening that promised a ‘theatrical, daring and full throttle production’ I was left wanting. With a slightly more comprehensive vision I think the cast would deliver an engaging performance but in it’s current state I found myself less dared and more damned.

REVIEW: Murder in the Dark

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A witty show full of jump scares that through wonderful acting, haunting set design, and atmospheric lighting to deliver a gripping supernatural thriller.

Murder in The Dark is an electrifying production that combines talented acting, clever set design, and atmospheric lighting to deliver a spine-tingling experience that lingers long after the final curtain falls. This thriller, directed by Philip Franks, is a must-see for anyone seeking an evening of suspense and supernatural intrigue sprinkled with a little bit of comedy.

The entine cast’s performances are stellar. Tom Chambers, in the role of Danny Sierra, leads the pack with charisma and vulnerability. His portrayal of the troubled singer grappling with a series of inexplicable events is both haunting and empathetic. Susie Blake’s Mrs. Bateman adds a layer of mystery and gravitas to the narrative with a very careful dose of humour, while Rebecca Charles, Jonny Green, Owen Oakeshott, and Laura White round out the ensemble with strong, captivating performances. Their chemistry and ability to convey the mounting tension in the story are truly commendable.

The set design of Murder in The Dark is a triumph in its own right. The isolated holiday cottage in rural England is brought to life with meticulous attention to detail. From the ugly furniture to the spooky well, the cottage becomes a character in itself, harboring secrets and foreboding atmospheres that perfectly complement the narrative.

What really helps with the spooky atmosphere is the clever use of lighting. As the title implies, darkness plays a central role in the story, and the lighting design skillfully employs shadows and dimly lit scenes to create a suspensful atmosphere and providing ample hiding spaces. The moments when the lights go out leaves the audience on edge and fully immersed in the world of Murder in The Dark. The interplay of light and shadow is masterfully executed, enhancing the tension and delivering some genuinely hair-raising moments.

Director Philip Franks’s affinity for horror is evident in every aspect of the production. He skillfully navigates the genre, taking inspiration from classic horror films and infusing the play with a contemporary edge. Franks understands the power of horror in reflecting societal anxieties, and this production deftly taps into those fears, making it all the more relevant and gripping.

In conclusion, Murder in The Dark is a great night out that is worth catching on its tour across the UK.