Tag: london

We sat down for an exclusive interview with actor Lottie Walker who stars as PL Travers in Clare Norburns' Practically Imperfect - a new surreal comedy with music pits writer PL Travers against her own creation, Mary Poppins.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Lottie Walker

Published on by ayoungishperspective1Leave a comment

We sat down for an exclusive interview with actor Lottie Walker who stars as PL Travers in Clare Norburns’ Practically Imperfect – a new surreal comedy with music pits writer PL Travers against her own creation, Mary Poppins.

This show runs from 10-15th February at OSO Arts Centre, Barnes – Tickets here

PL Travers is famously private, sharp-witted, and resistant to sentimentality. What did you find most surprising or revealing about her once you began living inside her on stage?

I’m finding Pamela fascinating.  (I hope she’d not mind me using her first name, by the way).  There’s no doubt that she was a formidable woman and I can relate to her lack of sentimentality – I don’t do all that touchy-feely stuff either. I’d have hated to have been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue.  All of which makes her seem an unattractive character, but I’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for her.  I’m in awe of how she completely reinvented herself to the extent that she appears to have genuinely believed in the alternative version of herself.  She never stopped wanting to be loved but just didn’t understand how to reciprocate.  I think her innate sadness is what’s surprised me most.

The play turns Mary Poppins into both a character and a kind of interrogator. How did that dynamic shape your performance, knowing your scene partner represents Travers’ own creation pushing back?

It’s a real battle of wills with neither character willing to give in;  I see  Mary as  Travers’s conscience and there’s a real feeling of being “hoist by her own petard”.  Joanna Brown who is playing Mary does a great line in cool authority and has a real no nonsense approach to the role, which is a great foil to Pamela’s imperious nature. She manages to instil a huge amount of warmth in the character too;  a lot of the “Pamela baiting” is very tongue in cheek;  I like to think of our sparring as that scene in the Mary Poppins movie where the reflection in the mirror answers back!

Travers is often portrayed as difficult or acerbic, yet this play seems interested in her vulnerabilities and contradictions. How did you balance her steeliness with the emotional fractures beneath it?
I’m still finding my way, to be honest and am not sure I’ll ever resolve this, despite having a good understanding of how I think she must have felt. Travers was a mass of contradictions and I want to show all sides of her.  I’m being helped greatly by the script.  Clare Norburn has injected so much humour into the play that it’s easy to make Travers likeable and I do genuinely want the audience to be on her side.  The play makes it clear that she was emotionally damaged at a young age and spent a lifetime trying to heal herself.  Her story is something I can relate to; we both lost a parent at an early age (she was 7, I was 8) and the emotional armour one dons in this situation is never quite enough to protect us from the fallout of ongoing failed relationships, whether it be romantic, familial or friends and acquaintances.  But that armour is essential to one’s survival even though it also acts as a barrier to true feelings. 

Much of the tension comes from a battle over who controls the story. As an actor, did that resonate with your own experience of interpretation, authorship, or being shaped by other people’s narratives?
100%!  I’m no writer and am the first to admit that I have limited capacity for imagination but I do like to think beyond any piece I’m working on and when I’m playing real rather than fictional people I do as much research as possible, which means that  – to the chagrin of most authors and directors – I’ve always got an opinion.  With some of my past work I’ve been much more involved with offering “helpful hints” to the writers from the beginning of the creative process.  It has been so helpful for me NOT to have had similar input with this piece as I’m living the battle of not being in control every day, which is just how Travers feels when Mary Poppins takes her in directions she’d rather not travel.  What has been good for me is that Clare Norburn and our director, Nicholas Renton have also researched everything to within an inch of its life and there’s been a healthy exchange of traffic of articles, videos and images, so even though I’m not in control I feel as though I’m contributing in a tiny way.  Poor Pamela spends most of the play fighting against the common sense and emotional intelligence of her creation.  She hates not being in control.  So do I!

Music plays a playful yet pointed role in the show, especially with songs that Travers supposedly preferred over Disney’s vision. How did the music influence the rhythm and emotional temperature of your performance?
I’ve spent some considerable time thinking about the music and trying to imagine the movie with Travers’ choice of music.  In short I think it would have been a disaster!  What is really telling is that in its 80 year history Desert Island Discs has had only one guest to choose all spoken word and no music tracks at all and that person was PL Travers.  She didn’t think music important and didn’t understand it.   The music she apparently wanted for the Mary Poppins film was all retrospective imagery of her youth (Greensleeves was on the list, as were Music Hall songs such as Lily of Laguna and Ta Ra Ra Da Boom De Ay;  did any of these make the cut for “Practically Imperfect”?  see the show to find out!   Steve Edis who has supervised the music for the show is a genius!  He’s found exactly the right music to illustrate the play’s themes without drowning the narrative and whilst honouring Travers’ legacy.  My background includes a lot of Victorian and Edwardian Music Hall and some of my favourites are in the show, but there are also songs that I’ve not come across before;  I have to confess to being somewhat emotionally overcome by the music in some places.  And highly irritated by it in others – perhaps I’ve morphed into Pamela without realising…

This production invites the audience to reconsider a woman who has long been flattened by cultural myth. What do you hope people walk away understanding differently about PL Travers or about the cost of creating something beloved by the world?
PL Travers was not the greatest communicator.  She was brusque, rude even,  and found it difficult to engage with people on anything other than her own terms.  This much is well documented, but I hope that people will take away from this play the fact that despite being all those things she was also a vulnerable human being who was a victim of her past.  I love that Mary Poppins is not a gentle and soft and cuddly character but carries with her a spoonful of common sense and acerbic wit.  That is all Travers, and I like to think that she gave her creation the personality that she thought she had herself.  She was misunderstood for her entire life and continually searching for belonging, love and happiness.  Had she listened to Mary Poppins’ advice she might have had a happier life.  Robert Burns’ famous quote

“O, wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An’ foolish notion.”

Could have been written for PL Travers.  Which brings us back to that mirror in the movie!

REVIEW: Ghost Grandma

Published on by paddycardwellLeave a comment

Rating: 2 out of 5.

A promising and ambitious premise is unable to compensate for uneven writing and heavy-handed punchlines

As the audience is ushered upstairs into the theatre at the Hen and Chickens pub in Islington, we are handed a copy of the programme as staff say, “sorry for your loss.” Whilst still finding our seats, we can see the cast silently pacing back and forth at what appears to be a funeral wake, thus setting the scene for Arista Abbabatulla’s new play Ghost Grandma, co-written by Anamika Srivastava and Pallavi Kumar.

The play begins with Dee, played by Srivastava, attending this wake, only to find out that her formerly estranged grandmother has left her a large house in her will. Dee is then forced to reckon with the typically tedious legal processes that come with inheritance, but with the added complication of being haunted by the ghost of her late grandma. The pair attempt to fend off eccentric tenants, covetous neighbours, and conniving council members, all the while attempting to resuscitate any semblance of a relationship they may be able to have with one another.

It is an engaging and thoughtful premise, however all of the interweaving plot points unfold in such a sudden and slapstick manner that they leave little room for emotional depth or exploration. For example, the character of Dee is not given the development she deserves and is instead reduced to near-caricature, with an insistence on melodramatic and unrealistic gags and what feels like a dated obsession with selfies and social media. The supporting cast suffer a similar fate; most of their stage time is taken up by exaggerated punchlines or clichéd misdeeds, allowing them neither the space to come across as a genuine villainous presence nor to provide effective comic relief.

And therein lies the main issue with Ghost Grandma. Marketed as a comedy, it struggles to maintain any consistent comedic impact. Despite the cast’s evident commitment, the script and direction leave many jokes falling flat, and the actors’ often overstated delivery of punchlines makes the tonal shifts that come later in the play all the more jarring and uneven.

Despite this, Selina Patankar, who plays Grandma, stands out as the most engaging and consistently funny character, with much of her humour stemming from quick quips and retorts in her conversations with Dee. These quieter interactions provide the show’s most effective moments of laughter and pathos, and the play would have benefited from more of them, as opposed to the loud physical comedy relied upon by the supporting characters.In her conversation with A Youngish Perspective, the play’s directors and writers stated that “in the UK, South Asian culture is often known for its food and places, but the way people actually live is frequently misunderstood. We wanted to bring these authentic experiences to the stage.” This commitment to telling a distinctly South Asian story is a welcome one, and it is refreshing to see a play that endeavours to portray the lived experiences of British Asians without relying on stereotypes, while still retaining cultural specificity. Unfortunately, over the course of its hour-long runtime, the play is not quite able to make its characters feel fully fleshed out or to grant them the humanity and tenderness it valiantly aims for.

REVIEW: Pierre Novellie

Published on by Ben BreenLeave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Precise observations, as funny as they are well constructed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

REVIEW: The Wedding, Gecko

Published on by AdielBrokeLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A visually stunning, ensemble-driven physical-theatre piece where “brides” become a darkly funny machine for belonging.

Physical theatre company Gecko mark their 25th anniversary with a restaging of their 2017 production The Wedding, debuting at Sadler’s Wells East as part of MimeLondon 2026.

It opens on a bare-ish stage: a slide juts out from the left, leading into a pile of abandoned teddy bears. An open closet, full of white wedding dresses, hangs in plain sight. Behind it all, a dark, expectant stage. Then the lighting design does something quietly exquisite – carving out pockets of glow, bubbles of atmosphere suspended in the dark, spotlighting performers as they move. The space becomes a series of display cases where interiority strains for freedom. It’s beautiful stagecraft, reshaping the room with costume and choreography into overlapping ideas of playground, altar, courtroom, factory floor.

Performers enter via the slide, farewelling their teddy bears as they arrive. They speak in different languages, dressed as brides regardless of gender, and are pushed outward into something like the workforce. The piece asks: What is the wedding? A romantic milestone, a contract, a celebration, or a mould we’re meant to pour ourselves into? In Gecko’s hands, it’s all of these – and something stranger. The wedding becomes a social machine: an engine for belonging that can also devour.

The ensemble are extraordinary. Their movement is precise and dynamic, alive to one another in the shifting scenic pictures and the space between them. There’s an almost electric responsiveness – the group operating as one organism. Gecko make movement feel like behaviour turned inside out: dialogue and verbalisations extended through the body. They build a physical logic where one shift ripples through everyone else, and yet the individual is still clear and traceable in the group.

Language works the same way. Every performer speaks a different language, which everyone seems to understand (including the audience) but not necessarily listen to. Communication happens constantly, bodily, imperfectly. The show is very funny in that specific Gecko way: comedy not from punchlines but from social choreography. The hilarious, horrifying labour of fitting in. Watching people adapt in real time, until belonging itself becomes a kind of contortion and something breaks. Some tonal transitions don’t land as cleanly and slow the pacing between sections, but the playfulness of the performers keep the piece buoyant.

The Wedding twines protest with happy endings in an interesting way. It conjures revolt – bodies gathering, collective momentum building – only to fold back into ritual. A double movement: resistance and compliance, anger and celebration, push and pull. The wedding becomes a metaphor for corporate conformity, a prescribed pathway where success is measured by how well you replicate the expected shape of a life. The unsettling part isn’t the oppression, but how hard alternatives are to make real. There’s shorthand here for systems of power keeping the “brides” in place: recognisable, if not always fully detailed or felt.

The show is most compelling when it unsettles gender and expectation – when “bride” becomes a condition rather than a costume, and the work presses at what we’ve been trained to want. Some images resist the comfort of tradition, scratching at the seam between what’s promised and what’s lived. Others collapse back into expectation.

Physically, the work is spectacular. Images layer and accrue weight without ever feeling busy. The physicality carries ideas of birth and belonging: bodies emerging, arranged, delivered into community. Gecko theatricalise constraint so you can see it working as an everyday force – not always violent, but always shaping. The restricted lighting supports this, turning visibility into both opportunity and trap.

Where it falters is narrative crispness. The thread loosens, and the sense of journey with it when it moves between characters – between who have been born to the wedding and other’s living within a suitcase, begging on the street, trying to find their way into the machine and the safety of belonging. In wanting to hold and overlap so many ideas, it risks diffusing its own meaning. Watching, I found my head full of questions.

Sometimes it’s unclear why the piece lingers where it does, or how it moves through tone, or what a story beat or choice is meant to imply – and what are the stakes in this world of breaking free? The ending – though there’s a vivid collusion of sound, music, and celebration with the audience, supported by a gorgeous shared energy from the ensemble – doesn’t quite land as a transformation so much as a fantasy. It offers a gentle reunion, somewhat heteronormative in its pairings and reconciliations. It balances the themes, yes, but slightly smooths over the complexity the earlier material opens up: the messier negotiations of belonging.

And still, Gecko are an incredible company. Even when narrative clarity thins, the work remains stunning, curious, and powerfully human. It may not always cohere cleanly, but it’s deeply worthwhile to experience.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: James Nash and Pip Williams

Published on by ayoungishperspective1Leave a comment

James Nash and Pip Williams of CONGLOMERATE: The Internet, the “unsettling” and their collaboration on Guidelines.  Guidelinesis a live haunting for the social media age, a primordial ritual conjuring the dark side of growing up online. Running from the 3rd-14th February at New Diorama Theatre – Tickets here 

CONGLOMERATE’s work often examines large structures and modern mythologies. What are the systems or narratives you feel most driven to interrogate right now, and why? 

JAMES: The internet! Our show is about growing up with an infinite source of information, which likely means being exposed to something that could traumatise you, how social media algorithms show you horrible violence next to more benign content, how it keeps you watching and consuming all the same. Otherwise, we’re interested in the normalisation of conspiracy theory and parasocial relationships (which we’ll hopefully explore respectively in our next two shows, programmers get in touch).  

PIP: Agreed- it feels important to remember that all these things that govern how we see the world right now- life online, celebrity, political narratives- are just that, narratives. I know it’s a cliched thing for an artist to say, but we are a story-based civilisation, and James and I are really interested in digging into the stories behind/embedded in these big, abstract, scary-feeling structures. Like it’s been so interesting with Guidelines finding out how much shared DNA there is between stuff like chain emails, or creepypasta stories, or indeed the general fear of how young people use the internet, and Victorian ghost stories, or the folk-horror tradition. There’s very little going on right now that hasn’t been already addressed somehow by the artists who have gone before us. 

James prioritises atmosphere and imaginative limitation, while Pip often works with language, folklore, and direct audience address. How do these approaches challenge and enrich each other in the creation process? 

JAMES: One of the great things about Pip’s work is how his writing is full of images, so you get a lot of atmosphere for free. Similarly with direct address, its a more direct form of engagement, its makes you respond in a more direct way. Otherwise it’s the same as other collaborators, they make you see things in a different way; the show you’re making changes. It can feel vulnerable, but it’s essential to the shows we make. 

PIP: I think we’re both really interested in imagination, ultimately, in the contract that the audience signs on entering the theatre- that for this allotted period of time, you’re going to believe that this room is another place, and these people are other people, and constantly trying to interrogate that contract and see how far it can be pushed. As a writer I think I tend more towards imagery, and I’m very language-focused, and so it’s really great having a collaborator with such a brilliant visual/scenographic imagination, as it helps bring a lot of abstract/heady stuff into a tangible reality. Also we both like doing, for want of a better phrase, weird shit, and it’s a lot of fun figuring out together the level of weirdness that’s achievable within our budget and timescale.  

You aim to create unsettling experiences that stay with audiences long after they leave. What does “unsettling” mean to you, and how do you judge when a piece has achieved that effect? 

JAMES: For me, ‘Unsettling’ is a heightened sense of awareness, something that you cannot stop thinking about. If it changed how I look at things I’d say it’s achieved its effect. 

PIP: In a lot of my favourite theatrical experiences there’s been a genuine feeling of not knowing what’s going to happen next- it’s about making stuff that feels properly live and unpredictable, that’s recognisable on a really visceral level. I think ultimately being unsettled is about being confronted by something that is normally repressed or hidden. 

Your work frequently reflects on how culture is made rather than simply presenting a story. How intentional is the decision to expose power, authorship, or audience complicity within the performance itself? 

JAMES: I think we want audiences to be aware of how things are constructed but never want them to feel at fault. We’d never have a moment where performers turn to the audience and go ‘and you did nothing’. They booked to come see the show! If there is a complicity it’s a positive one, them watching it completes it.  

PIP: I agree with James, I absolutely hate making the audience feel guilty about things- you always want a show to be the start of a conversation, rather than a telling-off. As said earlier, your audience signs a contract when they come in, and you want to make something that you all feel you have a stake in, maker and audience alike, a world you all want to exist in for a bit. We try and reflect that in the making process as well- we’ve been lucky enough to have our brilliant design team in the rehearsal room for a lot of the process, meaning that, hopefully, authorship feels shared by a lot of people and it’s not just me and James telling people to do stuff. As a writer I’m finding it really thrilling to be making a text that could not exist without lots of other people. 

Having worked across a wide range of venues and international contexts, how have different spaces and audiences shaped the way CONGLOMERATE collaborates and takes creative risks? 

JAMES: The majority of my work has been in festival and fringe contexts, so most audience members know they going to watch something more experimental than they’d be used to. It’s a great base to push expectations and test our ambitions. 

PIP: It’s kind of sad thinking about the answer to this question, as I feel like a lot of my thinking and the way I like to write for theatre has been influenced by spaces that no longer exist- the energy and DIY spirit of places like Vaults or The Bunker, for example, both of which got crushed by the greed of various stupid property people in central London. I saw so many shows in those places that were telling epic stories with next to nothing, shows that properly relied on the audience’s trust and imagination, and I really try and carry that forward in what I do. Also any number of shows I’ve seen at New Diorama, which is why it’s kind of a dream to be doing Guidelines there! One of our actors, Rachel, was in a show there which was a version of Antigone which basically changed my life, so it’s nice having her on board.  

Your work balances imagination, restraint, and moments of unabashed sentimentality. how do you build trust with an audience when traditional theatrical expectations are being challenged? 

JAMES: Starting with something familiar/some level of grounding which you can use as a foundation to build off. That being said, my favourite theatrical experiences are the one where the audience has been forced to get on board/move out of their comfort zones. Case by case I suppose. 

PIP: It’s something I think about a lot, as someone who likes to make work that’s scary or confrontational- how to balance that desire to challenge an audience with a desire to keep them safe. Like James says, it’s case-by-case, but essentially you always have to remember that you’re constructing someone’s evening; if you’re going to try and weird your audience out, there also has to be enough stuff that’s exciting or funny or nice to look at to justify them leaving the house.

REVIEW: Beautiful Little Fool

Published on by zhangxidan0324Leave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

An assured and thoughtful new musical that succeeds not by reinventing its story, but by choosing carefully where to stand within it.

Beautiful Little Fool at Southwark Playhouse Borough is an assured and thoughtful new musical that succeeds not by reinventing its story, but by choosing carefully where to stand within it.

At its core, this is a retelling of Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s marriage, a narrative that theatre and literature have returned to many times. What distinguishes this production is its framing. Rather than centring the familiar myth of the male literary genius, the story is filtered largely through Zelda’s perspective, with her daughter Scottie acting as both narrator and emotional anchor. This choice allows the audience to approach Zelda not as a footnote to someone else’s career, but as an artist, a mother, and a woman gradually stripped of agency.

Musically, the show is impressively coherent. The score flows naturally from scene to scene, and the interaction between the cast and the live band is well judged. Songs are placed with a clear sense of narrative purpose, and the musicians feel integrated into the dramatic world rather than added as accompaniment. That said, the score occasionally leans too heavily on lyrical repetition. While repetition can be effective in expressing emotional fixation, here it sometimes slows narrative momentum. A few numbers would benefit from clearer musical peaks rather than extended emotional circling.

The design work makes excellent use of the space. The set is flexible and responsive, allowing scenes to shift smoothly across different physical levels without disrupting the pacing. Lighting plays a key role in shaping atmosphere, particularly through the contrast between cool blues and warmer orange tones, which mark emotional and temporal shifts. Costume design is similarly thoughtful, especially in the visual dialogue between mother and daughter. These details quietly reinforce character relationships without feeling overstated.

One of the production’s strengths lies in its historical specificity. References to the Fitzgeralds’ financial difficulties, literary rivalries, and the cultural milieu of the Jazz Age feel well researched and purposeful. Most effective is the sustained attention given to Zelda’s loss of authorship. The gradual loss of her creative ownership is treated not as a single injustice, but as a process, which gives weight and credibility to her growing frustration.

The portrayal of Zelda’s mental health, and of institutional attitudes toward women at the time, marks the emotional turning point of the show. When this material is finally confronted head on, through an intense and explosive sequence mediated by Scottie’s narration, the musical’s thematic concerns come into sharp focus.

Amy Parker, covering the role of Zelda, brings a lightness of voice and physical grace that suits the character’s early optimism, while allowing space for darker shifts later on. Lauren Ward’s performance as Scottie is a particular highlight. Her delivery is clear, grounded, and emotionally intelligent, giving the production its sense of balance and perspective.

The final moments return unapologetically to the marriage itself. I found this choice effective. Rather than simplifying Zelda’s feelings, the show allows love and damage to coexist, acknowledging that emotional attachment does not disappear simply because it is undeserved.

What ultimately convinced me was how little the show let go of me, even where it was imperfect. I noticed moments where the music lingered longer than it needed to, but I never felt pushed out of the story. Instead, I stayed emotionally with Zelda, particularly in how the production holds love and damage side by side without trying to resolve them. That honesty, and the confidence to trust the audience with it, mattered more to me than polish. For all its small rough edges, this felt like a complete piece of theatre, and one I kept thinking about afterwards.

REVIEW: Così Fan Tutte

Published on by fbalchinLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Simple and small scale, Cosi’s female trio pack a performance punch

Così Fan Tutte is not a modern tale. Full of sexist tropes aplenty, its simple plot explores how foolish men can be, though their stupidity is unfortunately only surpassed by the apparent superior stupidity of women. Mozart’s finale in a late 18th century trio, we follow two Neapolitan soprano sisters Dorabella (played by Anna-Luise Wagner) and Fiordiligi (played by Rosemary Carlton-Wiilis) as they console each other due to the loss of their fiancés, tenor Ferrando (played by John Twitchen) and baritone Guglielmo (played by Oshri Segev) who have been called to war, or so they think. The two men disguise themselves as Albanians at the scheming connivance of Despina, the maid (played by Helen May ) and local philosopher Don Alfonso (played by Flávio Lauria). They intend to seduce the women to test their fidelity, whilst the women have been told to take lovers to prevent melancholy from the loneliness. Everyone is dramatically duplicitous and eventually despite literally everything played out to the contrary for two hours, it all ends happily ever after.

The female trio here were the stronger of the performers, projecting power and passion as befitted their characters. May’s Despina really stood out, her cunning character being given the meatier of the female roles. She showed great wit, excellent comic timing and physicality, whilst also demonstrating a vast vocal range with clarity and expression. Wagner and Carlton-Wllis’ sisters were also zealous in their generous portrayals of duped sisters whose agency appeared in the hands of everyone but themselves.

Ensemble OrQuesta’s production is simple and small, scaled down to fit the Cockpit Theatre, though it curiously focused the action upstage, in the back half of the stage, practically part of its chamber orchestra by the end. Hanging half mannequins of disembodied women pose the only creative use of set design here, with a table and chairs for vague feasting, and a teal sofa so comically small it felt awkwardly intimate every time three people tried to sit on it. Other creative moments were utilised when Despina sang from the upper seating level, presenting an interesting balcony sequence with those down below. Truly though, fake moustaches carried this production. They were the key to everyone’s disguise. The Albanians had curled, cartoonish black tufts stuck on, to offset their inexplicable forensic white suits. Despina’s moustache whilst she pretended to be the doctor kept falling off, which in all honestly just proved to be excellent comic physicality as she tried to hold it up all the time.

For me though, this production showed very little of the “ground-breaking”, “outstanding creativity” previous reviewers have awarded the company. The presentation felt too literal and formulaic. I enjoyed the strong performances from the majority, whose fabulous arias carried the flimsy libretto, though the uninspired setting and bland staging left me cold and uninterested. The Hasting Philharmonic Orchestra Ensemble, conducted by four or five people on a rotating basis throughout its run, was exceptional in its delivery. Particularly expressive for me were flautist Elizabeth Marr and violinist Amy Le-Mar. Despite their small size, they filled the entire room with superb sonics, capturing the emotion of each scene as it hung on the lips of each singer.

Whilst this production of Così Fan Tutte felt mild in comparison to some of the other bombastic operas available to audiences, nothing should be taken away from its sensational performers who carried Mozart’s orchestrations to completion. Ensemble OrQuestra certainly seem booked and busy for the forseeable, so I am perhaps in the minority in my opinions here.

REVIEW: Guess How Much I Love You?

Published on by ayoungishperspective1Leave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A devastating drama on the agony of choice

A 95-minute emotional whirlwind Guess How Much I Love You? Never slows down. The opening production of Royal Court’s 70th Anniversary Season, artistic director David Byrne wanted to begin the year with a brand-new play. Honouring the theatre’s history of supporting fresh, daring scripts from all kinds of writers. 

With surprisingly extensive trigger warnings given out on cards, this play delves into the trauma of child loss and the choices parents make to give their children the best chance at life. Written by actor Luke Norris, this drama is predominately a two-hander between Him (Robert Aramayo) and Her (Rosie Sheehy). 

This is a play clearly written by an actor, as Norris serves up chances to take the spotlight on a platter to the performers. Emotionally-charged monologues, scathing one-liners and effortlessly witty repartees allow the actors to show off their full range. Although the play itself doesn’t really go anywhere, it is a masterclass in naturalism and the cast really shine. 

Sheehy plays a sharp-tongued independent Her, perfectly mismatched with Aramayo’s more subdued and cerebral Him. Although the couple experience great trauma and grief together, they are always a terrible pairing, unkind to each other from the start. This relatable writing holds a mirror up to the world, with so many couples desperate for children to save their relationship from the impending doom of death by bicker. 

Director Jeremy Herrin creates fast-paced scenes ending in dramatic blackouts, heightening audience emotions, assisted by Grace Smart’s stage design. A rotating stage allows for swift set changes into various intimate environments – a bedroom, a birthing suite, a funeral parlour waiting room. It’s a glimpse into the private lives of a couple experiencing something horrific, yet more ordinary than we’d care to imagine. 

The chemistry (or lack thereof), between Sheehy and Aramayo is so intense it takes your breath away. Things are said that would signify immediate divorce for some, but for these two it’s no deterrent. Sheehy explores a tremendous emotional arc and is counteracted perfectly by Lena Kaur, playing a calm and measured midwife at just the right moment.

A beautifully written and performed play, it lacks a deeper layer that could really elevate the script. However, despite occasionally tipping into the melodramatic it still retains a deep emotional resonance and truth, making it highly compelling from start to final bows. 

REVIEW: ROTUS: Receptionist of the United States

Published on by jaybinghamLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A smart, silly satire exposing how women contribute to upholding the patriarchy 

ROTUS is a one-woman show about Chastity Quirke, a stereotypical ‘dumb blonde’ Republican who lands herself the position of the White House receptionist. Desperate for validation from men, Chastity spends her days slamming socialism and the “icky Democrats” while preening herself and hailing Christianity. 

Writer-performer Leigh Douglas delivers a laugh-out-loud, witty performance. Ramping up the blondeness, the annoyingly high-pitched voice, and the US accents to the max, she shows us a caricature of the women Republicans who stand by the cruel rhetoric of their male counterparts. ROTUS includes a storyline about Chastity grappling with a shift to feminism in support of a wronged woman colleague and friend, though sadly, this only really began in the last half-hour or so. However, what the play lacks in a solid narrative, it more than makes up for in whip-smart comedy that we can all understand and enjoy. 

ROTUS is also a successful play in a technical sense. The production design is minimalist – we see only a desk bearing the seal of the president, and a few small props. This means that much of the story relies on Douglas’s brilliant ability to switch between voices and the positions of the characters on stage. Douglas brings to life not only Chastity but also her Southern macho colleague, Garrison, and her fellow women pick-me’s, Liberty and Candace. Each character is a reminder of the many ways in which right-wing ideology manifests itself in people – no two characters are the same, they are all distinct, yet their Republican bootlicking is very much evident. Even the president in the world of ROTUS, though not a character, is comically named Ronald Drumf, proving that Douglas is truly unafraid to hold specific politicians accountable.  

In an era of political instability, government-mandated acts of violence, and the increasing rage of the masses, stories like ROTUS are as relevant as ever. We place the blame for societal unrest and bigotry on those in power, and while it is right to focus on dismantling the system, Douglas shows us how individuals can also contribute to the reinforcement of these dangerous systems. Although ROTUS is fun for a laugh, it is also a wake-up call to support our fellow humans in this time of need. As Douglas poignantly yet effectively points out at the end of the play, being a ‘pick me’ does not bring you love and respect; only the friendship of your fellow marginalised people will. 

REVIEW: Concrete

Published on by isabellescerriLeave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

“A joyously crafted piece of work, performed by two very talented actors.”

Tucked into the upstairs nest of Islington’s The Old Red Lion theatre, a joyous audience encountered an epic story of platonic and familial love, swear words, potential kidnapping and buckets full of northern wit. 

Part of FreshFest (The Old Red Lion Theatre’s 4th-year-running festival that celebrates new writing) Ché Tligui’s Concrete had only been previously exhibited at twenty minute scratch nights. Upon entry, the performance is already in action. The scene is decorated with remarkable detail, and the costumes, sound and lighting also follow with such professionalism. It only takes a couple of minutes and a sense of calm concentration settles over the audience, as Joe Stanley who plays Craig delivers a humorous and convincing introduction to the play. The relationship between Craig and Tristen (played by Callum Burns) is electric, and I applaud both the acting talent and direction for such detailed characterisations- Tligui really does make the performance feel concrete. 

With many funny side-stories and plot devices along the way, their is a neatness embedded within both the convincing realities of the two boys, alongside key references to socio-political contexts. Physical indicators of the times including the CD player, flip phones and colourful sports tracksuits certainly aid a discussion of the context of the pairs worlds. References to Thatcherism and implied right-winged newspapers cleverly works to create tension between both Craig and Tristen and the audience are left with question of the personal vs the political. Where the groundwork of the play is the pair’s relationship, I think the dilemma opened up reaches beyond deciding to stay or move to London, it offers a chance for the audience to question their own priorities. 

Concrete really did demonstrate a grounded representation of everyday struggles, and though hesitant at first to its rather abrupt ending, I think it strengthed the core exploration of the pairs relationship. However, here the plot points and structure felt so strong, I wondered at times if important moments could be pushed further, or pulled back in some cases. As we learn of the future of the baby, the reaction to this moment felt a little small. This also ties in with the audiences little understanding of Craig and Tristen’s background, and it would have been even more compelling to understand how they got to their position today. Nevertheless, a small cuts to running gags and a push to the context would only greaten such a joyously crafted piece of work, performed by two very talented actors.