REVIEW: I Was A Teenage She-Devil


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Carrie meets Heather’s meets The Pick of Destiny, this show is bonkers!


I Was A Teenage She-Devil really exemplifies the wonderfully mad spirit of The Other Palace. A Theatre known for putting on shows that break the mould or are a little out there in nature, this crazy 80s-inspired musical fits the bill.

The best word to describe this musical is bonkers. It’s absolutely wild in every conceivable way, and that’s exactly what makes it work. Sometimes, in fact, more often than not, things that are trying to be 80s don’t work as intended. Either because they try so hard it feels inauthentic, or they just don’t capture the magic of the era. This stands out because it fully leans into itself. Into the madness, the 80s tropes, the cringe and the iconic. It knows it’s insane and fully embraces it, usually in very funny ways. Most importantly, it doesn’t take itself too seriously. It fully recognises that the era it lives in is full of melodrama and goofy energy, both in the films it pays homage to and the music. It captures the romance and the teen angst, but also isn’t afraid to make fun of itself. It takes thoughts you’ve had about every 80s movie, like “why does this high school student look like they could have a mortgage and kids of their own?”, and fully presents it to you through humour, with the reveal that Rod, the jock who looks way too old to still be in education, is in fact 35 years old.

It has fun with all these tropes, the jock who’s a total jerk, the popular mean girl head cheerleader who goes out with him and the glasses-wearing loser girl who just wants to fit in. We know them all because they’re classic (if somewhat overused) themes of virtually every single film from that decade. Then we have the best friend who’s in love with the protagonist, but this is where the use of these labels gets interesting, as it becomes this queer love story with Debbie having a crush on her best friend Nancy, the story’s “loser girl”. In the 80s, people often weren’t bold enough to tell stories of this nature, so it’s nice to see how well it can work for the time period.

The narrative of this musical then gets a bit nuts and adds Satan in. Having been humiliated by head cheerleader Tiffani and boyfriend Rod following an incident in which Tiffani is banned from homecoming and kicked off the cheer squad by the gym teacher, this part of the plot possibly sounds familiar as being more or less the story of Carrie. However, the show being as self-aware as it is points this out through the character of Doobie, resident film expert and manager of the video store. After the humiliation, this is where the Heathers aspects come in. “Nancy’s Lament”, a short emotional number where she sings of how she’d sell her soul for love, leads to the sudden appearance of the devil. Naturally, she is given exactly what she wishes for, but is also turned into a she-devil. She then proceeds to punish her classmates for their wrongdoings. Nancy is like a cross between Veronica and J.D. from the cult classic. If it wasn’t already crazy, Debbie challenges Satan to a rock-off for Nancy’s soul. We go pretty far from the 80s here, as this is essentially the plot of Tenacious D In The Pick of Destiny. It’s a mashup of wild proportions and the sort of mix that maybe feels like it shouldn’t work, but somehow, it just does.

The music helps greatly with that and is across the board, intrinsically 80s. When it comes to the voices behind it, they’re nothing short of perfection. The vocals from this cast are so powerful, so strong that it makes the atmosphere of the whole performance feel absolutely epic! Ashley Goh as Debbie really embodied that rock vibe from start to finish, especially when she sings about her feelings for Nancy in “Lookin’ For Love”. Aoife Haakenson goes from loser girl to succubus she-devil in a transformation that appears effortless. The talent was unreal as we see her change from the girl who wants love and acceptance in “I Wanna Be Someone’s Girlfriend”, a girl who is far more timid and less sure of herself, to this extraordinary demonic creature in songs like “She-Devil”, where she has much more agency over herself. Haakenson’s She-Devil felt akin to Jim Carrey in The Mask when she speaks, and it felt right, like that was exactly how she should sound. It was brilliant! 

Overall, this musical’s mad energy is fuelled by passion, fun and outrageous talent from everyone involved. It’s only at The Other Palace for a limited run, so be sure not to miss it! You’ll have a hell of a time.

This show runs at The Other Palace till 26th April. Tickets available here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Jez Bond


Artistic Director Jez Bond, Executive Director Catherine McKinney, and the whole team at Park Theatre announced further details of Whodunnit [Unrehearsed] 4, the next instalment of its hugely popular fundraising comedy spectacular, which returns from 11 May – 27 June 2026 with the most ambitious version yet. We hold this exclusive dialogue with Jez.


Each performance features a different unrehearsed guest sheriff. What continues to surprise you about that format?

I think it’s a perfect blend of comic structure and comic chaos. Looking on, it might not seem like it all the time but the cast are utterly in control of every moment. Interestingly the blocking (unless we specifically allow it not to be for a short time) is the same from person to person; which is all about the skills of how the actors manipulate the stage space. The star is always exactly where we want them to be – which is particularly important, of course, for the jokes that rely on them facing the wrong way or addressing the wrong person! But the surprise is also that there’s plenty of space for each actor to bring their flair to the table, to portray the character in a different way and – here’s the real answer, I think – for the audience to enjoy the different live reactions on the stars’ faces. Many people come more than once and you might see one actor taking it very seriously, another trying to but with a glint in their eye, yet another might have a number of corpses throughout (yes, I know it’s a murder mystery but I’m not talking about dead bodies, I’m talking about the kind or corpse where you allow yourself to visibly laugh).

How does the success of Whodunnit [Unrehearsed] directly impact the theatre’s ability to develop new work and support artists?

We need to raise around £600,000 per year on top of regular box office income to stay afloat. Because we believe that theatre is for everybody, and a big part of accessibility is affordability, we don’t want to charge West End prices. We also do a huge amount of work in the community, from programmes with young people through to our flagship dementia work. As such, as a charity, we need to make up our shortfall by fundraising. We don’t get any core funding from the Arts Council or local government – and with individual donations, smaller scale events and trust and foundation support we’re able to bring in half of what we need each year. The Whodunnit show, running every other year, makes up that gap. It’s not exaggeration to say that it’s totally vital to our continued operation. In terms of supporting new work and new artists, this is a big commitment of ours. Across our two spaces we programme more new work than revivals and we also provide space and support to a number of companies and individuals each year to develop their work.

What does it say about Park Theatre’s identity that an event like this has become part of its DNA?

Ha! Financially I suppose it says that this creative idea borne out of need is now a regular fixture necessary to stay alive. I hope for our patrons it says that Park Theatre is known for exciting, fun work and for being able to harness the incredible power and generosity of its high profile friends (all of whom perform, I must add, for free to support the charity).  I should also add that as a fundraiser tickets for this one are purposefully significantly higher – as it’s doing this show that enables us to run for the rest of the year. But even so we’re keen to ensure some lower price tickets and booking early is the best strategy as prices may change based on demand. Conversely there are also a limited number of standing tickets released on the day of each performance at our discretion. We are also going to be doing Lottery tickets – a small number of tickets for each performance at a reduced price. Full details on how to enter that will be announced closer to the show.

When audiences leave Graveside at the end of the evening, what do you hope stays with them?

So much! From the wonderful, themed food and cocktails throughout the night to the exciting touches across the building – whether that be actors conversing in character in the bar, or the addition of hay bales and whiskey barrels throughout. Of course, on stage I think there’s a few gags that will stay with them for a long time (there are still people who tell me they haven’t forgotten a particular gag in the first reading we did of this new script a year ago). But overall, I think the feeling you’re left with after Whodunnit (perhaps more so than ever in this all-encompassing immersive version) is the joy of having experienced something truly special that will never be repeated.

For tickets and listing,  see https://parktheatre.co.uk/events/whodunnit-unrehearsed-4/

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Nikol Kollars


We sat down with Nikol Kollars for a quick chat about her upcoming project, Fickle Eulogy. For ticketing and info, please find here.


Fickle Eulogy balances humour with raw grief—how did comedy become a tool for telling the truth rather than softening it?

Humour was necessary to counter the heavy parts of Fickle Eulogy. I was aware while writing it that too much intensity and darkness can drag us down into depression and boredom. But using comedy to actually touch on the rawness, to lean into it rather than distract is a powerful tool. Shining a comedic light and absurdity onto something overwhelming provides a greater release. It helped me with my own grief process, so I felt it might help others navigate their relationship with grief. 

Writing a eulogy is both deeply personal and strangely performative. What did that tension unlock for you as a solo performer?

The tension between the personal and the performative unlocked a radical honesty for me. In a eulogy, an intimate and personal relationship is expected to be publicly available. Then we feel a social pressure to present a coherent, “acceptable” version of the deceased and our relationship with them. We rarely see adults being their true, contradictory selves in their most vulnerable moments. By leaning into the theatricality of it, I found the freedom to explore the blurred lines my character encounters, but also those shared between me as the performer and my character. The stage gives me permission to tap into the darkest, most fleeting parts of my psyche without the fear of social fallout. As a solo performer, I get to embrace the “whole rollercoaster ride.” Early on, the challenge was not letting the words destroy me. I had to learn how to be deeply connected to the grief while maintaining the craft of the performance. Ultimately, this tension transformed the play into a vessel for catharsis. In a way that in the writing process it hadn’t brought me.  I wonder what kind of collective healing we would find if we all allowed ourselves to be this raw and unfiltered during our final goodbyes. 

The presence of an unhelpful AI in the show feels darkly contemporary—what does it reveal about how we outsource meaning and comfort in moments of loss?

Since I wrote Fickle Eulogy in 2021, AI has evolved at an alarming rate. Now more than ever people use AI as a therapist or a companion. Even though we know the algorithms are only regurgitating what humans essentially told them to. But I can see why some people prefer generic catchphrase pacifier algorithms, to messy and complicated humans.  Future generations will show how desensitized we are becoming and how much real danger we face in losing our capability to contemplate, theorize, and analyze. Maybe even really feel. 

How did shaping multiple characters inside one grieving body change the way you understood Ann’s inner world?

While allowing space for the sadness, rage, frustration, doubt, and loneliness, the unique tones and textures of the characters in the play were free to reveal themselves. There is so much freedom in those characters. Giving permission and discovering through the characters made me realize that Ann has bravely surrendered to the chaos of grief. And that we are not different from her if we allow ourselves to find ourselves in Ann.

Grief from Covid carries a specific kind of rupture and unfinishedness—what felt essential to honour about that experience on stage?

It seems that so many of us have not acknowledged how traumatic the pandemic was, regardless of individual experience. For those of us who lost someone during that time, the uncertainty, panic, and frantic distrust in the media and governments added even more fuel to the fire. This play unites us in that shared experience. Knowing my mother was essentially alone in her last days breaks my heart over and over. In this strange way while she is honoured in this piece, maybe I can assuage my regret for not being with her, for being so far away to begin with. A Scottish friend of mine lives in California and her father in Scotland died from covid19 that first month in 2020. She had to watch her fathers funeral online at 3 o’clock in the morning. 

After performing this work across different cities, what shifts—if any—have you noticed in how audiences respond to loss, humour, and intimacy?

I have had a wide variety of responses during the performance as well as afterwards, and they are not necessarily defined by the city or culture. I have had some performances in which the audience was reserved, in a city that theatre is a cultural institution. But afterwards, I am greeted with warmth, emotion and an eagerness to share. Sometimes it depends on the particular audience that comes and how they collectively decide to which extent they will experience the play. I have had performances in which an international audience is completely immersed and engaged in theatrical exchange, laughing and crying. I have also enjoyed seeing a balanced mix of genders. Many men attend the show and give testimonials afterwards with their feelings about loss, how vulnerability is strength, how they feel acknowledged. I would love to perform Fickle Eulogy in Ireland and Mexico, it seems their relationship with death is celebratory and familiar. 

REVIEW: Scots – The Musical


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

This cast made sure to gie it laldie as they belted it oot for aww to hear


A show filled with laughter, songs and more than a few wee facts, Scots-The Musical is more than just a comic glance at the country. This show delves deep into Scotland’s past, its origins and its people; all told from the point of view of a toilet. THE Toilet, in fact. The very first. The Pavilion, being such a beloved theatre in Glasgow, made this the perfect venue for such an event, as the audience went on an educational, if somewhat ludicrous, journey.

Any story told by something people use to defecate in is going to be a bit mad. There’s really no way around that; it’s a pretty bold choice for a narrator. Yet, oddly perfect? It honestly sort of sums Scotland up in a brutal kind of way, or at least our humour. We do, undoubtedly, partake in a lot of toilet humour. Even the infamous “DISGUSTANG” meme gets a nod as we go through a variety of bog-related jokes. The reason for such an unusual storytelling device is that the first ever toilet was said to have been dug in Scotland. Throughout the show, The Toilet takes us on a journey through Scottish history, all beginning with the song “I’ve Seen Some Shit”. With this kind of storytelling device, you’d think all the humour would indeed be “shit”, but the audience was roaring with laughter as our narrator talked about how it had seen “a lot of arseholes”. This opening song has already become an earworm as it is incredibly catchy. It works really well to open the show, being a light-hearted, less serious number. 

As previously mentioned, though, this show is about more than just laughs. This musical shows us many important figures in Scottish history, especially women underappreciated within their own time. Mary Somerville, the first-ever scientist, is one such figure. Mary gets to sing one of the most powerful numbers of the show, “I Don’t Need Your Approval”. The high notes achieved by Katie Barnett were sensational, acting as a perfect closer for Act 1. Themes of female empowerment continue into Act 2 with Annie Gibbons, a woman who was instrumental in the implementation of the first toilets in tenement flats in Scotland in 1972. She provided Raymond Young with a space to build his schematics, and this led to a movement which saw toilets be included in flats and tenements all across the country. The song “Som’dy Needs A Boot Up The Arse” accompanies this part of the story and rhymes the words “didnae” and “kidney” in an act of absolute lyricism.

One thing this show manages to do well is address Scotland’s missteps. Acknowledging that Scotland has made a lot of mistakes is actually one of the factors that will help it stand the test of time, and it can’t be stressed enough how important that is. Scotland’s not perfect. Nowhere is but especially not us. We have work to do to improve, grow, and evolve and this musical addresses that boldly, while remaining hopeful for our future. One such example of this is the homophobic attitudes towards gay people in Scotland, across time, but especially in the 1970s-1990s. We see how this led to many retreating to bathroom cubicles as a place to hide, in school, work, social settings and how the hostile environment towards the community exacerbated the AIDS crisis. It goes on to show how times have evolved, as being gay was no longer illegal in Scotland in 1980. It took over 3 decades for gay marriage to be legalised, with Scotland finally being at the forefront as the first country to do so in 2014. This is all beautifully captured in a moving song sung by characters Oscar and Daniel, “Things We Don’t Say”.

 Another example of Scotland’s biggest errors that gets mentioned, in which we got “so utterly shagged” as it was so eloquently put, is when we tried to colonise the Darien region of Panama from 1698 to 1700. Known as the Darien Scheme, William Patterson took over £400,000 (roughly £60 million in today’s terms) of money taken from Scottish citizens with the intent of establishing a colony and trading route known as New Caledonia. However, it was an absolute failure, leading to the death of Patterson’s whole family as well as 2000 others due to disease and attacks from Spain, who also wished to colonise the area. This is savagely summed up in the line “Scotland backed the horse that got malaria and died”. These financial losses are ultimately what led to the formation of the union with England in 1707.  Another brilliant quote that helps summarise our storied history as a country is simply, “Sometimes we’re a f—ing mess”. Harsh, but true. However, the show also states that we always get up and try again, that we never give up, and that is important. Scotland may have some work to do, but we’re doing our best, and if we can own our mistakes and learn from the past, our future can be brighter. Better.

It’s worth noting that there are a couple of excellent running gags in this show. One is the map girl, always getting in the way and always with a deranged look in her eyes. The other is the lute player, constantly trying to get away with playing an old Scottish song known as “How Can I Be Sad On My Wedding Day?” The Toilet is having none of it, which leads to some panto-like interactions as we feel sorry for the poor lute player, but eventually, she gets to fulfil her wish, and it’s worth the wait. Yana Harris had multiple roles, but this was definitely her most endearing. It should also be mentioned that Tyler Collins did superb work with all the humour throughout the night as The Toilet. He served as a perfect narrator.

Overall, Scots- The Musical is a total riot! The balance between silly and serious is just right, the songs are incredibly entertaining, and the cast is very clearly having an absolute ball. It was plain to see how much they were all enjoying themselves, which flowed through their performance and made this a memorable and enjoyable night. Gon’ yerselves!

This has Fringe energy written all over it. It’s funny, well-balanced in tone and even educational. Plus, the songs are all fabulous! Perfect length in runtime and perfect for Scottish audiences.

This show has finished its run at the Glasgow Pavilion. Find more tickets for the Glasgow Pavilion here – https://trafalgartickets.com/pavilion-theatre-glasgow/en-GB

REVIEW: Psychopomp


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A short film that will stay with you long after you leave the theatre.”


Manchester Film Festival opened to a full auditorium at Aviva Studios. The 11 day festival celebrates film across the city with an action packed programme of events. In its 12th year, the festival continues to grow. The opening event was a double bill of Kit Harrington’s Psychopomp and Jan Komasa’s The Good Boy.

Psychopomp is an excellent black comedy short, following a road trip led by Harry Melling as Harry, who has decided to end his life with the help of an assassin, Liam, played by Ciaran Owens. What initially feels like a play on stereotypes soon reveals a far deeper emotional core, uncovering the dark histories that underpin such situations. Alluding to a past that raises more questions than it answers, the film feels intimate and personal, capturing the complexity of what is unfolding. When a film is able to move you so profoundly with a single word, you know you’ve discovered something truly special.

Filming took place in the North of England across Leeds , Kirkstall, Ilkley Moor and Barton-upon-Humber, something Kit Harrington spoke of fondly in the Q&A that followed and cited that being a reason for the film being shown at the festival with him in attendance. The film was shot over three days, with half a day dedicated to the incredibly sombering Humber Bridge Scene. 

The Q&A also offered a moment for the Game of Thrones star to share his vulnerabilities around bringing his directorial debut to an audience. Hearing Kit Harington speak about his desire to challenge himself through Psychopomp, and his reflection on the support he received from the industry in making it a reality, was insightful and refreshingly honest.

The Q&A also highlighted the genuine comradery across the production team and actors, with Owens praising how good it was to have an actor in the directors shoes who understands the relationship building needed to deliver such an emotionally complex performance. Harrington commented that he would want to direct again and for anyone who watches Psychopomp, they will certainly be looking forward to the next project he works on.

Showcasing 52 feature films, including nine UK premieres and eight world premieres, catch the Manchester Film Festival until 29th March. Tickets are available here.

Psychopomp was followed by The Good Boy – the reviewer did not attend this part of the event.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Onjali Q. Raúf


We sat down with Onjali Q. Raúf, author of Boy at the Back of the Class. For ticketing and info, please find here.


The Boy at the Back of the Class has touched readers around the world since its publication. When you first wrote the book, did you imagine it would resonate so widely with young audiences?

Honestly, I didn’t have the foggiest! My imagination didn’t stretch that far. I still find myself in awe at how far this story has travelled – and all the unexpected places it has carried me to. I came into the publishing industry with one simple goal: to get a story published. If it could help a kid, somewhere, anywhere, understand they weren’t alone in what they were going / have been through, then that would have been a bonus. But the book being taken into school curriculums? Kids raising tens of thousands of pounds for refugee charities around the world? Getting thousands of letters over the years from children asking how they could help refugees – or coming up with ideas of their own to do just that? Not an inkling!

The story explores the refugee experience through the eyes of a group of children. Why was it important for you to tell this story from a child’s perspective rather than through the adults around them?

Because children’s sense of justice isn’t muddied and erased by the ‘grey space’ of racisms and racist geopolitics that infiltrates and diminishes the same in adults. They don’t dehumanise their fellow human beings as easily and as swiftly as so many adults seem keen to. Most children – unless indoctrinated from a very young age – don’t care about skin colour or where someone is from, what they look like, what their history is. They just want to be friends and play. They get the basics of humanity – that hurting someone – anyone – is bad. That dropping bombs on someone and punishing people for the crimes of others is not justice. That war and violence harms innocents – and that all of the aforementioned is inexcusable. They also see through the hypocrisy of adults with a sharpness too many underestimate. It’s why this story, which essentially revolves around a group of children making friends with someone who has had everything taken away from him – only works with children in the mainframe. World weary cynicism and racist hate and ignorance hasn’t captured them. Yet.

Your work as a human rights activist clearly informs the themes of the book. How have your experiences working with refugee communities shaped the way you approached writing Ahmet’s story?

This story would never have been written if I hadn’t gone out to the refugee camps of northern France following the breaking of Alan Kurdi’s story in 2015. There’s only so much any of us can learn from the sofa, telly or phone screen – especially when consuming news spun by our media channels. Getting out physically into the forests and muddy fields of those so-called ‘camps’, and witnessing, as I still do, the horrific, inhumane situations which the bravest, most courageous members of the human race are being forced to bear at the hands of ‘developed’ nations (the very nations bombing their countries and stealing resources), led to anger. Anger led to questions – questions such as, what on earth are refugee children, often forcefully separated from their families, supposed to do? How are they supposed to survive any of this? What kind of world are we creating where one groups of kids have everything, and the other has everything taken away from the again and again and again? Those questions – triggered by my team and I meeting a four-day old baby called Raehan in 2017, and to whom the book is dedicated – led to the story. It was the only way that story could ever have been born. There’s no way it would have been conjured up without my actively being in those ‘camps’.

Seeing a beloved novel transformed for the stage can be quite a special moment for an author. What was it like for you to see Nick Ahad’s adaptation bring the characters and their journey to life in the theatre?

Surreal. It still is, and I think forever will be. Especially when I get to see and hear the reactions of audiences – children’s and adults alike. Nick has done such a spectacular job of not just lifting the story up into reality, but giving Ahmet a roar that even I didn’t foresee him having. Whilst Monique, the cast, and all the creative teams have done such a beautiful job of bringing the characters I once had in my head into 3D life, that some days I still think I’m hallucinating. I’ll never forget watching the show for the first time with Nick – and barely being able to hear a word because I couldn’t believe any of it was really happening. Few moments in my life will top seeing the play for the first time. 

The book balances humour, adventure and emotional depth while addressing serious themes. Why do you think storytelling can sometimes open conversations with young people that news headlines cannot?

Because books, stories, characters, are safe spaces. We have so few of those growing up – spaces where we’re not being watched and tested and drilled and ordered around every minute, but where we are, as children, set free to roam new worlds, meet new people, explore our own reactions to events contained to the space of a page.  Reactions that include a freedom to ask questions. Questions that ordinary school lessons and other grown-up led activities might not give rise to. Without that freedom to roam and wonder and go on new adventures, we would all be lost, and living much smaller, constrained lives.

At its heart, the story celebrates empathy and the idea that even children can make a difference. What do you hope young audiences take away from the story when they encounter it on stage?

Hopes? I have three. I want kids to see this show and leave with real, actual knowledge of what is happening right now, in our midst. Real knowledge of the inhumane situations children their age, in families just like their families, are having to endure. Next, I want them to know that their questions – they ones they have swirling away inside them, are game-changing tools capable of leading them to great adventures, should they have the courage to ask them. And finally, that they DO have power, agency, a role in the world, no matter what the adults of that world might tell them. A power that often starts with changing the experiences of that world for the better, one friend at a time. That’s all.

REVIEW: Ancient Grease


Rating: 5 out of 5.

This is theatre for people who unashamedly love being fun, camp and having a good time.


Ancient Grease is a concept so simple and so obviously full of potential, it’s a wonder it’s not been done before. Grease, the beloved classic musical, retold and parodied in the setting of Ancient Greece. Perfect idea, no notes. However, although a neat premise, ripe with comedic possibility, it’s also high risk. Grease itself is so ingrained in the public psyche, and the audience needs this version to hit the key beats of Grease that we know and love, while also feeling fresh and original. Well, I’m delighted to report that Ancient Grease does all that and more. 

Lady Aria Grey’s script is equal parts sharp and silly – perfectly weaving in the lines of Grease that casual viewers will recognise and smile at, as well as the deep cuts Grease devotees will love to hear with her new and original material. The cast then takes this material and makes it sparkle on stage. It feels wrong to single out certain actors when the entire cast played their roles with such dedication, wit and stage presence. However, that said, Phillipa Leadbetter’s Hera (our dear Sandy Olson) is a real gem, who makes use of every moment on stage, taking small moments to new comedic heights. Lucy Penrose as Aphrodite deserves a stand out too – she takes the role of Rizzo, a fan favourite, and makes you fall in love with the character all over again.  

The score is full of great moments – updating the songs of Grease (in legally different enough ways) to the new premise, and combining with some new numbers, it creates a real atmosphere in the room. The staging structure helps this. As you enter, you have traverse staging, with the main stage in the middle, and the Mount Olympus staging at the head. The audience feels so close to the action, and it creates a real party-esque feeling, as you can see each song radiating joy into the audience opposite you. There’s also a fair bit of audience interaction, which adds to making it feel like a collective experience. 

This is a love letter to Grease, and you can feel the love present. All the while, it sends it up too, which is what makes this truly great. This is theatre for people who unashamedly love being fun, camp and having a good time. Ancient Grease is the word, and it has most certainly got groove and meaning.

Ancient Grease is running from 4 March to 30 May at The Vaults in Waterloo—tickets here https://www.thevaults.london/ancient-grease.

REVIEW: What the Hell? An Incredible Improv Show


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A lineup like this is too good to fail, and even when it does, it’s hilarious.


The Edinburgh International Improv Festival wrapped up on the 8th of March, and it did so with a handful group improv shows (an appropriate send off for a festival so community led). These shows had stacked line ups, including one of which A Young(ish) Perspective attended – What the Hell? An Incredible Improv Show

This show was made up of Amanda Breen, James Dwyer, Chris Gethard, Oscar Montoya, Aaron LaRoche, Monika Smith, Kimi Jackson and Lyndsey Frank. These comedians came up with a series of sometimes-connected sometimes-totally-tangential scenes prompted by audience stories that make one say “What the hell?”. A true range of talent on the stage that night led to an onslaught of bits, all flavoured with each comedian’s particularities. These were the most engaging moments of the night, as comedians figured out how to slalom around another comedian’s idea, add to it or knock it down. This was not combative; it was improv in collaboration. When each performer is equally as confident and talented as the next, it creates a sort of cascade of bits – which is certainly the best way to describe the show that night.

Two stories were conjoined together into one large tapestry of scenes, including dad advice, an ever-evolving tampon bit and an apparently offensive wedding attire salesman. After this, the group took one word and ran with it – “Hopscotch”. And while the scenes that followed were delightfully spiraling (at some point including a Goblin Avatar commune), Hopscotch didn’t wind up occurring. The initial attempt included a father-daughter disagreement about easter baskets, which one could see resulting someway in Hopscotch. But, as the final scenes evolved, the show wrapped up with callbacks instead. 

This is the only minor thing that brought the show down. The large, talented and multifaceted group may have broken up a level of synchronicity, leading to tenuous scene resolutions at times. However, this onstage talent was also the biggest strength. Amanda Breen, Monika Smith and Oscar Montoya were the most controlled of the troupe, managing to create clear set ups in their scenes, allowing for natural development, and also capable of playing a clear role in the scene to make room for laughter. Aaron LaRoche, Lyndsey Frank and James Dwyer were extremely bit-form that evening; these comedians would truncate or interrupt scenes in order to contribute their own bit of silliness, my favourite of which was each comedian separately developing the gun pointing bit. Kimi Jackson was an ace-in-the-hole, often taking on unexpected characters who were funny in mere expression, like an overexcited bridesmaid or a miscellaneous Swedish man. As an industry veteran, Chris Gethard was a standout. His expertise in the medium makes him extremely comfortable rambling on about Avatar to humorous effect. By the end of the evening, it was clear that other comedians were ribbing Gethard a little bit, as they continuously attempted to return him to an uncomfortable character. 

In the end, this was the show’s biggest advantage. Each comedian was skilled enough to create laughter, but it was also evident that the fun for the performers was in being able to catch each other out. Push a bit out or pull it back in. While the structural integrity is the only technical mark down, when you’re watching something as fun as this, it’s easy not to care about that. And if Improv can’t make someone care less, what can?

FEATURE: Edinburgh International Improv Festival 


Edinburgh International Improv Festival is upon us, and its opening may have shown just what other festivals are missing


On Thursday the 5th of March, The Edinburgh International Improv Festival commenced for the eighth-year running. Since 2019, EIIF has welcomed Improv Comedians from all over to the hazardous streets of Edinburgh. And the festival has a great deal of heart. Nowhere else is this heart more evident than at The First Beat.  

The First Beat signposts the beginning of the festival. And it was a fantastic kick-off. While posited as a show (and it partly was), it was ostensibly more of an opening ceremony, so the audience was filled with performers. I managed to talk with most of the acts that took the stage celebratorily across the night, each of whom shared a palpable sense of excitement and community, giving a great idea of what EIIF specifically brings to the table. 

Starting the night, The Breaks created a series of scenes from a single word suggestion. Focusing more so on making their fellow performers break, the group generated a synchronicity and playfulness that was absolutely infectious. Composed of Craig Methuen, Karlie Menzel, Daniel Kvoras and Gareth O’Connor, their show Fabled on the 7th should be a hit. 

Glasgow Improv Theatre also took a single word suggestion, then generated loosely related words through association. Their scenes were wide ranging and delightfully complex. I had a nice chat with John McInnes and Martin James of GIT, who both expressed delight at the festival’s growth. John and Martin were equal parts proud, excited and humble to see audience members (as well as students) from previous years now taking the stage. Classes and workshops at Glasgow Improv Theatre are coming up, so I’d certainly recommend giving it a go.

Monika Smith performed next and was my highlight of the night. Alone onstage, Smith picked audience members to conduct several scenes with. Due to the event that night, these too were Improv Comedians: Ben Cassil, Zoe Langer and Ted Allbress. Nevertheless, conducted is the right word. Smith is capable of guiding the scene subtly to its fullest potential. In conversation with Smith, she informed me that this is indeed the nature of her show, and the audiences are not usually so full of other Improvisers. Conceptually, some would see this as a comedy ticking time bomb. But Monika makes it work. Her show Solo Improv is on Sunday 8th at 4:30pm.

The second half of the night was shorter, but jam-packed. First up was Amanda & Oscar. Amanda Breen and Oscar Montoya are very comfortable onstage. This level of stage presence led to hilarious surprises, and a genuinely lovely and controlled scene. After this, Will “MC Hammersmith” Naameh concluded the evening with two routines. Frankly, this act gets tighter every year. It is astonishing to watch.

In conversation with Will and Amanda, both comedians expressed anticipation for the Upright Citizen Brigades’ upcoming presence in Edinburgh, and that having this much Improv in one room is an extremely reinvigorating thing. One can’t help but agree.

Talking with acts from across the night, it is hard not to absolutely encourage patronage for this festival. EIIF may be an underdog, but its support of Improv from all walks of life is entirely admirable. And the spirit of Improv runs through the very festival. In fact, Laura (one of the EIIF organizers) best summed up the feeling of comradery in the room that night: if you’re doing standup, you have to bomb alone, but in Improv, you’ll go down together. 

Edinburgh International Improv Festival has shows from the 5th to the 8th of March. More information can be found here: https://www.edimprovfest.com

REVIEW: Chekhov’s Fun and Facts May Vary


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An engaging hour of well crafted, chaotic improv comedy


Chekhov’s Fun and Facts May Vary are two improv groups performing at the Edinburgh International Improv Festival. We are treated to two thirty-minute sets, where the audience gives some prompts and then gets to sit back and enjoy the madness of the genre.

Edinburgh’s Chekhov’s Fun showcased a real tightness in their comedy. A few suggestions from the audience, based upon the careers of family members, threw up a range of interconnected sketches featuring: a deadly van carrying inexplicably hot Dandelion and Burdock; a disenfranchised costume designer working towards a children’s pantomime without an audience; and  family law judge dealing with some rather alternative views on child labour. 

With improvised comedy, it has to be assumed that not everything will work out, but this group showed a togetherness that allowed more sketches to hit than to miss. The groups willingness to join in, help each other and crucially stop sketches from going on too long showed a band of artists who are about as well rehearsed as an improv group can be.

Liverpool’s Facts May Vary offered a different style of improv, introducing the idea of  a documentary based around a convention. When looking for prompts from the audience, they settled on a cutlery convention. The idea threw up some fun moments, including a legendary holding-a-spoon-on-the-nose record holder, a father and son knife sales team and a battle between Sean Bean and a Gordon Ramsay who abandoned his adopted Southern English accent for a Northern lilt. While on the face of it, it seems like a topic that has a lot of opportunity for absurd comedy, it turned out to be a topic that had fairly shallow depths to reach.

Still, this is a skilled group of improvisers, who made do with what they were given. By the end of the thirty minute set, we were entertained by a chaotic convention of memorable characters that could be built into a sketch show based around cutlery. The only real let down within Facts May Vary was the lack of using the conventions of the documentary to their benefit. The documentary idea felt very much like an afterthought rather than something that was well worked into the set. Nevertheless, the group put on a very funny show.

The show on the whole was a success, and the two troops performing together allowed the audience to get a full introduction to some top improv comedians from around the world. Maybe they also learned something along the way.

I, for one, will never fight Sean Bean or say yes to driving a milk truck delivering Dandelion and Burdock.

The International Improv festival runs until the 8th March at Monkey Barrel Comedy.