REVIEW: Natural Behaviour


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A celebration of phenomena deemed ‘unnatural’ by society, beautiful to those who are willing to look closer 


Suitable for ages 11+. 

Before I watched Natural Behaviour, I had read nothing about it and assumed it would be a comedy of sorts. A satire about misfits attempting to find their place in this strange, pretentious world. And I was not wrong – the show, comprised of dancing, lip-syncing, and humorous costumes, depicted the ways in which several communities fight to assert their existence. What I was not expecting, however, was just how brilliant the interpretations of nature, humanity, and social issues would be. 

Natural Behaviour, created by the dance theatre company Thick & Tight (Daniel Hay-Gordon and El Perry) and featuring a multitude of performers, is an astute exploration of what is ‘natural’ and ‘unnatural’. Our initial notions of marginalisation is expanded by Thick & Tight’s representation of all manner of species, human, animal, or otherwise – including the dust in Quentin Crisp’s room, and a lesbian seagull! In this show, there are no proverbial flies on the wall. Nothing is stepped over or forgotten altogether. All species are given a spotlight, the chance to have their true, natural behaviours showcased by the brilliant performers on stage. 

In our preoccupation with the comings and goings of human life, we often forget that the sentiment shared among queer people, “None of us are free until all of us are”, extend to non-humans, too. Thick & Tight clearly view this sentiment as near and dear to them, ensuring the audience is made aware of the things we tend to overlook. Yes, we have reached the consensus that homosexuality is worthy of acceptance and respect, but are we aware that it is not merely a human phenomenon? And gosh, cockroaches are scary and icky, but did you know that their little bodies hold an immense amount of stamina? Nature has always been fascinating, and often unfathomable to humans, but Thick & Tight show us that it is nevertheless deserving of our attention. 

Natural Behaviour is inclusive outside of the play as it is within. The performances are relaxed, with pauses between each vignette for audiences to leave the room if they wish. Audience members are allowed to stim and make noise, and there is a quiet room. All performances were captioned for those hard of hearing, and there were descriptions of each performance and performer for the visually impaired. It is always important for each audience member to feel included, each person sharing in the feeling of being seen and being free. 

The criticism I have of this show is not so much a negative judgement as it is… an inquiry, of sorts? There are scenes, immensely funny scenes, featuring Donald Trump in the form of an orange horse, and an audio recording of Katy Perry’s interview after she entered space for a whopping 400 seconds. Admittedly, I found it difficult to recognise how these fit with the theme of ‘natural behaviour’, especially among the stories of a gay black man in the US and a male ballet dancer embracing the full extent of his femininity. However, the scenes themselves were very enjoyable to watch, eliciting a lot of laughs from everyone in the audience, including myself. Natural Behaviour is a funny, outrageous, and beautiful show, hopefully one that will go very far. 

Kudos to all involved! 

REVIEW: Red Peppers and Aged In Wood


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A light-hearted double bill that takes you back in time 


OnBook Theatre presents a comedy double bill of Red Peppers by Noël Coward and Aged In Wood by Cian Griffin. Directed by Jason Moore, both acts of this evening of entertainment are set in the same music-hall dressing room, 89 years apart. Two short plays in one evening is a feat for any theatre company, especially when the cast have been plagued with last minute changes as this one has been. With brand-new cast member Philip Gill in one of the roles, this ensemble bands together and pulls it off. 

Described by Coward as ‘a vaudeville sketch sandwiched in between two parodies of music hall songs’, Red Peppers is just 30 minutes in length, performed in two scenes. It was originally one of ten short plays that made up a larger production of Tonight at 8.30, a series of plays written to be performed across three evenings. Following a night in the run of a flailing comedy act by a husband and wife duo, even with the witty dialogue from the legendary playwright, Red Peppers has not stood the test of time. Despite extremely strong performances by Jessica Martin and Jon Osbaldeston, this rather plotless short play about the demise of the vaudeville era may have worked in its original cycle, but not as a stand-alone first act. 

Paired with a lengthier second act of 60 minutes, the show is brought home by Aged In Wood, tenuously linked to Red Peppers through the use of setting. The set itself by Ian Nicholas is beautifully detailed, everything down to the torn wallpaper to show the ageing venue has been thought of. Lighting by Jonny Danciger works perfectly in tandem, effectively transporting us from the stage to the dressing room and back again throughout the show. 

Although Aged In Wood has some laugh out loud moments to rival the writing of Coward, it also lacks plot and momentum. We revisit the same topics and gags frequently, with considerable line uncertainty from most actors also slowing the pace. Jessica Martin who remains onstage for the entirety of both plays, is a total powerhouse as the tyrannical leading lady. Jon Osbaldeston returns, as her ex-husband this time, with patience and stoicism, and casts a commanding figure in the small theatre. 

Emma Vansittart is a chic and hilariously brutal showbiz agent in an equally fabulous outfit by Ian Nicholas. Philip Gill does an exceptional job as a last-minute call up, with both Rhys Cannon and Dominic McChesney giving strong performances. This is a tight ensemble and once their confidence with the text increases, undoubtedly so will the pace and urgency of the second act. 

A thoroughly entertaining night at the music hall, this double bill is testament to an ambitious and talented theatre group. Although this production lacks something of that ol’ razzle-dazzle, this company is undoubtedly one to watch. 

REVIEW: Compañía Mercedes Ruiz, Romancero del Baile Flamenco 


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

 The performance was true to and an elegant example of traditional flamenco […] a performance that does not compromise its historic integrity or try to be flashy. 


As part of Sadlers Wells Flamenco Festival, Compañía Mercedes Ruiz Romancero del Baile Flamenco (Ballads of Flamenco Dance) is a 80 minute masterclass in the classical style of Flamenco dance. Led by the eponymous and formidable dancer Mercedes Ruiz, who began her company 22 years ago, the performance features two dancers – Ruiz and José Maldonado – accompanied by four musicians dressed all in black. The performance consisted of six distinct movements, each signified by a change in dress, lighting and position of the musicians. 

The show opened with the two dancers dressed in rosy pink, circling one another like curious birds, to the rhythmic fluttering of their clicking flingers. The sensitive mics positioned either side of the stage, picked up the softest slide of a shoe and not once throughout the 80 minute performance did you hear the dancers breathe – the performance was not only a demonstration of tradition, but also a graceful display of stamina. 

There was no overarching narrative connecting each section, instead each sequence exemplified Ruiz flamenco prowess while armed with an arsenal of traditional flamenco props such as; a cordobes hat, castanets, a fringe shawl, and a fan. Moments of solo performance broke up the partner work presumably giving the other dancer time to change and catch their breath. In one striking moment, Ruiz entered upstage wearing a black and white bata de cola skirt, with black castanets in her hand. Throughout this section she hit the castanets against her body, and played them behind her back. Maldonado only ever complimented Ruiz moves, his sharp lines and powerful poses were precise and dynamic, his series of pirouettes received a round of applause from the audience. 

Santiago Lara guitar playing was entracing, using it not only as a melodic instrument but as a percussive device in which he, like Ruiz, would hit the body to create bassy acoustic sounds amidst his feathery strums – like fullstops in a paragraph. This punctuative element was accompanied by the powerful clapping and singing of Los Mellis (the twins, Antonio and Manuel Montes Saavedra) whose voices seamlessly blended together to create a blanket of sound of the dancers to move within. 

Everything on stage felt like dialogue; it was difficult to tell whether the movement was in response to the music or vice versa. The performers navigated the tempo and feeling of the performance together, occasionally encouragingly exclaiming “ole!” whenever an individual felt it necessary. Moments of stillness and silence were just as arresting, a great contrast to the fiery footwork that drilled and echoed into the floor and the romantic laments of David Lagos’ vocals. At times these vocal outbursts were quite loud and intense, but always deeply haunting. 

There’s no mistaking the virtuosity of the performers on stage, Ruiz herself started flamenco dancing at age four. At one point the flowers in her hair fell out, so she kicked them out the

way as danced across the stage. As the show progressed the dances became more playful, Ruiz would flash a smile to the audience and shimmy her shoulders. 

The simple stage set (chairs, spotlights and coloured back lighting) drew attention to the dancers but also revealed the vastness of the Sadler’s Wells stage. In a sense I wished the setting was more intimate, the stage was often thrust into darkness to bring the dancers and musicians into focus. Seeing a performance that felt true to its form, only made it long to see it in a more intimate and informal environment. I wanted to be closer to the action. 

As mentioned in the programme, the show is a great testament to “her [Ruiz’s] commitment to preserving the tradition”. The performance was true to and an elegant example of traditional flamenco; it’s important that audiences are invited to give their attention to a performance that does not compromise its historic integrity or try to be flashy.

REVIEW: WIGGY


Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

Thought-provoking conversations on race and extreme paranoia are the highlights of this experimental show.


What if a Get Out situation wasn’t real? What if it was all in our heads?
WIGGY, by writer and lead actress Chelsea Bondzanga and director Ilayda McIntosh, puts the audience in that predicament, through an entertaining and odd play, set within the constraints of a ski flat, where four friends (two white, one South Asian, and the other black) spend a birthday week together. Tense conversations, surreal moments, and a violent finale ensue.

First of all, I’d like to disclose that, unfortunately, the venue wasn’t well accommodating for everyone to experience the show in its fullest capacity. I was on the third row, and the way the seatings were arranged didn’t allow me to see all of the action happening on stage, especially when characters were sitting down, which happened quite often.
Uncomfortableness aside, Bondzanga’s story was uneven. The performers were great (particularly Bondzanga as Karime and Coline Atterbury as Astrid), yet the script gave them difficult material to work with.

The first half is dedicated to getting to know the group, focusing on the comedy of their strange interactions. Although the conversations are quirky and fun in nature, throwing captivating phrases like candy, they seem aimless and out of place. Plot-wise, there’s only one interesting thing that happens: an accidental overdose. And of course, a strange painting in the middle of the room, the main source of conflict in the piece.
The second half, intense, packs multiple punches, and raises questions about race and class disparity. A balance between thought-provoking drama and mind-bending suspense is set in motion. Ambitious, to pull off a psychological thriller in a small-scale stage production, because the narrative constraints those circumstances provide were scarce: strange voice notes, a performer playing double-duty and extreme reactions from Bondzanga.

I appreciate the subtlety, but not when it gets in the way of functional storytelling. It’s one thing to shock your audience and make them gasp and another to leave them scratching their heads, wondering at all times what it is they’re witnessing. I kept tiptoeing between these two emotions, unsure of how WIGGY was and what it was trying to say. Effectively confusing plays are meant to take the audience on a satisfying journey, eventually separating them from the character living the experience. Yet the directionless first half and its spiralling second left me lukewarm, overwhelmed by its whirlwind. Entertained but empty.



IN CONVERSATION WITH: Mojisola Adebayo


We set down for a quick chat with Mojisola Adebayo ahead of the premiere of her latest project STARS: An Afrofuturist Space Odyssey.


Mojisola, STARS has been described as everything from an “Afrofuturist space odyssey” to a “concept album on stage.” What is STARS, in your own words?

 It’s many things at once. STARS is theatre, yes – but it’s also a club night, a DJ set, a live animation, a celebration, a protest, and a poem in motion. It’s about an elderly woman named Mrs who, after a long and unsatisfying marriage, sets off into outer space in search of her own orgasm. It sounds wild – and it is – but it’s also a deeply human story about pleasure, healing, and transformation.


That’s a bold premise – an old lady searching for her orgasm in space. Where did that idea come from?

Honestly? I was thinking about why so many women feel disconnected from their own pleasure. That thought stayed with me as I embarked on a residency with Idle Women – floating on a canal in Lancashire – and I had space to just think. That’s where the idea crystallised: this woman, this journey, this rocket ride through trauma, laughter, memory, and desire.


STARS is experimental in many ways – how does that manifest on stage?

It’s my most collaborative work. We have Debra Michaels giving a phenomenal solo performance as Mrs, DJ Bradley Charles spinning a live soundtrack throughout. Our incredible team includes, among others, Candice Purwin who has created stunning animations that run through the piece. And then there’s the captioning created by Stephen Lloyd – which isn’t just functional, it’s artful and playful at times. The result is that every medium has its own voice and power in the show. It’s not just a play – it’s an experience.


The themes are joyful, but also challenging. You explore FGM, intersex identity, and trauma – how do these elements come together?

I began researching the politics of pleasure – what blocks it, what represses it. I started connecting FGM and non-consensual surgeries on intersex children, especially how both forms of violence are rarely discussed together. That led to beautiful conversations with campaigners, including Del LaGrace Volcano and Valentino Vecchietti. One of the characters in the play is intersex, but they’re not a victim. They’re joyful, empowered, sensual. That’s important to me – not just exposing harm, but celebrating resistance and resilience.


And yet, there’s a real sense of fun and joy in STARS. How do you strike that balance?

I think the key is to not flinch from the hard stuff, but not get stuck in it either. Pleasure is political, yes, but it’s also pleasure! The show ends with people on their feet, cheering. We even had a critic crying with joy. That tells me we’re doing something right. People leave feeling exhilarated. They’re not just rooting for Mrs – they’re rooting for themselves.


Afrofuturism plays a central role. What does that term mean to you in the context of this show?

Afrofuturism, for me, is about reclaiming space – literally and symbolically. In STARS, I draw from the Dogon people in Mali who have a queer cosmology: their ancestral spirits, the Nommo, are both male and female. That mythology is powerful – it lets us imagine a future rooted in an African past that celebrates multiplicity, queerness, and cosmic belonging. It’s a radical act of remembering and dreaming forward.


What do you hope people take away from seeing STARS?

I want audiences to feel joy. Deep, dizzying joy. I want them to cheer for themselves, to laugh, maybe to cry, and definitely to dance. If they leave thinking about pleasure differently – their own or other people’s – then that’s everything. We live in a world that often tries to shut that part of us down. STARS says: no more. Go where the pleasure is.


STARS is presented by Tamasha and Brixton House. Described as “a queer feminist rallying cry” and “the theatre experience you didn’t know you needed,” this Afrofuturist journey is for anyone aged 14 and up.

The performance is followed by a Club Night on Saturday 14 June with DJs Conrad Kira and Deboa.
A Post-Show talk hosted by Jumoké Fashola takes place on 17 June.

Further details and booking: http://www.brixtonhouse.co.uk/shows/stars/


REVIEW:  Muerta de Amor


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Flamenco reimagined as a ritual of love, surrender, and the shadows in between.


Fierce and intimate, Muerta de Amor explores the volatile terrain of desire, power, and all-consuming love. Rooted in traditional flamenco and infused with divine queer energy, the work channels raw intensity into solos, duets and ensemble sections that feel both deeply personal and theatrically bold. At its core are relationships—between dancers, between music and movement, between performers and audience.

The musicians seated at the edge of the stage were consistently excellent, deftly guiding the pacing and emotional register with traditional flamenco guitar, clapping rhythms, and powerful vocals. Their work merged seamlessly with the dancers’ physicality, elevating both soundscape and movement into a single rhythmic pulse.

The choreography fused tradition with highly original flair. Envisioned by renowned Spanish choreographer and Flamenco Festival regular, Manuel Liñán, the show was at its most exquisite during the duets, in which male dancers combined machismo with tenderness; one especially memorable moment involved two dancers manipulating a length of red silk, binding and circling each other in a striking visual metaphor for intimacy and trust. Elsewhere, in the sensual Tu boca y la mía, a singer and a dancer shared a breathtaking duet that underscored the harmony of voice, instrument and body. Equally captivating were the intricacies of the flamenco movements themselves: the whip-fast footwork, the precision of each extended arm or turned wrist. At times the dancers had the audience hypnotised, breaking the spell to rapturous applause.

Lighting choices added visual texture to the performance. Bathed in rich pinks, reds and purples, the stage’s vibrant colour palette contrasted the performers’ dark funereal attire; one female singer was dressed as a nineteenth-century aristocratic widow, evoking gothic elegance and the haunting intensity of love. The title Muerta de Amor means ‘Dead from Love’ in English, and the visual design both reflected these themes and reinforced a cohesive visual language throughout.

In Muerta de Amor, flamenco becomes more than tradition – it is a conduit for passion, a ritual of surrender, and a pulse that binds love to loss.

REVIEW: The Watch


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A tender, witty triumph, it reimagines time through the lens of queer intimacy


It’s been a long time since I last walked out of a show feeling like I’d just spent a wonderful, heartwarming hour. The Watch made that happen.

Co-produced by Bomb Factory Theatre and Chris Edge and directed by Merle Wheldon, The Watch, a new piece by Isabella Waldron, is currently premiering at The Glitch in South London. The show is built on a simple premise: Hannah (played by Ciana Howlin), troubled by her inability to fall asleep, meets a watchmaker, Zoe (Kate Crisp). The encounter between them explores healing, genuine connection, and the mending of our bodies’ broken internal rhythms in a modern world. Though the concept is straightforward, the writing makes the story deeply endearing through brilliant dialogue and world-building, all while keeping the emotional core at its heart.

The writing is fun, honest, and quirky in the best way. The story is narrated by Hannah, whose character feels so authentically crafted—quirky, messy, yet deeply relatable—that you’re utterly charmed from her very first words. Ciana’s performance as Hannah is absolutely enthralling. She grabs the audience’s attention from the very beginning and never lets go. Through her narration, we fully immerse ourselves in her life and start to experience the world through her quirky yet deeply genuine point of view. The dialogue between Hannah and Zoe also sparkles with humor and chemistry. The dynamic between the two feels so compelling that you can’t help but lean into their conversations, laughing and frowning along with every line and twist.

Merle Wheldon masterfully brings together set, lighting, and sound design to create an intimate yet cohesive world. The downstairs theater at The Glitch provides the perfect space for this heartwarming piece. The set design is simple yet effective, symbolizing the two distinct worlds of the characters before they merge. Meanwhile, the lighting crafts a fantastical yet immersive atmosphere, enhancing each scene’s emotional beats. The sound design subtly supports the world-building for most of the play but shines in particularly striking moments, immersing the audience into Hannah’s world.The Watch explores how we navigate connections in today’s fragmented, chaotic world. It reinvents the telling of queer stories in its own way – so simple, yet so deeply captivating and affecting – and redefines how we share time: no longer counting the ticking of the clocks, here we experience time in shared breath and warmth from the loved ones, in the tracing of wrinkles, in the quiet moments where time dissolves altogether.

Runs at the Glitch until 9th June. Tickets here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Daljit Nagra and Liz Berry

Poetry By Heart, founded in 2012 by former Poet Laureate Andrew Motion and Dr Julie Blake, is a national poetry recitation competition open to all schools and colleges in England. This year, over 128,000 young people chose, memorised, and performed a poem they love.

Finalists compete at the Grand Finale at Shakespeare’s Globe on 7 July, with 40 finalists in the Classic category and 15 schools in Freestyle, celebrating creativity and inclusion. Three schools will receive special awards.

Judges include poets Daljit Nagra, Patience Agbabi, Liz Berry, Valerie Bloom, Glyn Maxwell, and Jean Sprackland. We sat down with judges Daljit Nagra and Liz Berry.


Daljit, you’ve long championed poetry in schools. What personally persuaded you to lend your voice to Poetry By Heart, and what do you hope the young finalists will get from their involvement?

There is too much analysis of poetry in schools, too much using the head without the body. Poetry By Heart allows children and young people to connect with poems with their body as well as their brain, to feel the poem as it grows in them with each reading. Their performances before an audience, at Shakespeare’s Globe or local heats, show how the poem has blossomed in the body and come truly alive. After all, poems are not just words on a page, they need to come alive and Poetry By Heart is the best way I know of making them show how alive they really are.

Liz, much of your work explores the musicality of spoken language. How does hearing a poem recited from memory at Shakespeare’s Globe change your sense of its rhythm and emotional power?

I might have read a poem many times before, but when I hear it spoken from memory, in that extraordinary little jewel box of the Sam Wannamaker Playhouse at Shakespeare’s Globe, it always feels electric. There’s something so intimate and human about having a poem spoken aloud to you and new things are always revealed about the text.

There’s something very special about the age of the performers too, allowing them to open up things that an adult might not be able to. I can remember performances which bought tears to my eyes and those that gave me goosebumps (last year’s KS4 winner Nifemi who performed ‘Cousin Kate’ by Christine Rossetti did both at once) as well as funny, spellbinding performances (last year’s KS2 winner Iman!) which remind me how joyful poems can be when they’re lifted off the page and into our lives.

Daljit & Liz, when a student steps onto that Globe stage, what are the first qualities you’re listening and looking for that signal a winning performance?

Daljit: I like to feel the student is not acting but allowing the poem to speak through their body. That their facial and hand gestures are simply part of the requirements of making the poem be itself, that any movement of the body is a natural part that adds meaning to the poem. I’m even quite happy hearing a poem performed where the student just stands still and only their mouth moves – performances must add meaning and enable us to fully hear the poem.

Liz: I love seeing a student slip under the poem’s skin, that moment when they first forget their nerves and let the poem take over – that’s magical as it’s such a brave thing to do, getting up to perform. I like to hear students’ own natural voices and accents (always lovely!) and see that they enjoy the poem they’ve chosen (whether it be dark and dramatic or funny and light). Also: head up, look out and give your audience a little smile before you begin. I was taught this when I was a very nervous reader in my early days as a poet and it gives you a moment to relax yourself and make a little human connection with the audience before you step into the poem.

Daljit, you often write about identity and belonging. In judging this competition, how do you balance celebrating a performer’s unique voice with the need for fidelity to the poet’s text?

I love the different ways students deliver the poems because there is no one right way. We all have our own lives, in our own parts of the country, our own joys and struggles. All our experiences help us shape how we feel about the poem and this in turn shapes how we deliver the poem.

Liz, past competitors (now 18-25) still return to support the contest. What does that alumni loyalty say to you about the lasting value of learning a poem by heart, and how might it inform your feedback to this year’s finalists?

A poem by heart means a poem that lives in your heart, for always. That’s a beautiful thing to have. Poems can give us courage and reassurance, help us to make sense of things or just enjoy the nonsense. I always encourage students to choose a poem they really like and one they’d love to carry onwards with them. You never know when you might need that poem…

REVIEW: A Night Of Theatrics!


Rating: 5 out of 5.

An evening at the Cabaret has never looked so good. 


Prepare to be swept off your feet by the magic of The Phoenix Arts Club’s A Night of Theatrics! Featuring sultry burlesque numbers, incredible feats of strength, hypnotizing aerial work, and so much more, there really is something for everyone: if you’re over 18 of course.  

The Phoenix Arts Club is the perfect underground cabaret venue. It’s speakeasy feel and beautiful decor compliments the artists it hosts. Be sure to arrive early because it offers an array of incredible cocktails and snacks. Need a little midshow refreshment? Scan the QR code and order straight to your table. A Night of Theatrics! is worth a toast or two. 

The only portion of the evening that was anything less than fabulous was the “slow, reflective” section. While Vanity’s voice is beautiful, the drop in energy was startling and dragged. The piano was a nice addition but if sat stage left, you lost sight of the marvelous Miss Von Glow and the already slow music becomes of even less interest. 

So different yet all so captivating. Resident Drag Queen, Vanity Von Glow guides the audience through the evening. She has an impressive vocal range and there’s a rasp that makes it memorable, paired with her biting wit, she’s the perfect host for this fantastic evening. 

Burlesque and fire performer, Thommy Girl, is a sex bomb. Her first piece blends the charm of Astaire with the raunch of Magic Mike. Her movements are powerful and mark her as a highly accomplished dancer. Her skill is once again evident when she returns at the end to light up the stage, quite literally. The ease with which she handles the flames is incredible. 

Burlesque performer, Eliza Delite is a class act. Looking like shes just stepped out of Some Like It Hot, she is reminiscent of a classic vaudeville performer. While many of the costumes donned in A Night of Theatrics! were amazing, Eliza Delite’s were by far the best; they oozed elegance and completed her resemblance to a pinup doll. She invites the audience in with her hypnotizing eyes and brings joy to the otherwise slinky burlesque. 

Hot, buff woman and knives? Yes, please! Daniela Derail boggles the mind with her mixed Strongwoman and Daredevil act. From tearing books in half to climbing a ladder of knives, she makes it all look easy. She isn’t for the faint of heart but if you think can handle it, you need to see it. 

Andromeda Circus is a visual masterpiece. The lights go down and out walks this fluorescent piece of art. Simple movements create captivating pictures even before the aerial work begins. The strength and fluidity in every movement was nothing short of stunning. Flexible, sexy, and mysterious, they’re simply perfect. 

Enjoy an evening of deliciously X-rated entertainment. A Night of Theatrics! will get you hot and bothered in the best of ways. Tickets here

REVIEW: Permission


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A brilliant fresh take on South Asian storytelling


I’ve been lucky enough to review for AYP for a few months now, and been lucky enough to see some fantastic theatre. Hunia Chawla’s Permission is far and away the best thing I have seen. Charting the relationship between two young Pakistani women Hanna and Minza (played by Anisa Butt and Rea Malhotra Mukhtyar) as they start university, Hanna goes to England, whilst Minza stays at home in Karachi. The show deals with radical politics, sexuality and female friendship whilst questioning tired old narratives about the oppressed Muslim woman. 

Chawla is a wonderfully gifted writer. On the one hand she is able to be light and funny, and on the other able to write scenes so tense you could have heard a pin drop in the theatre. In an earlier conversation with AYP she said that the show was born out of a frustration with the way that we discuss women’s freedom and liberation. Permission is nuanced, it acknowledges the realities for Pakistani women in their home countries and those who go abroad. The show is political, it was philosophical, it was real – Hanna is only able to leave Pakistan because she has a great deal of economic freedom. Their relationship is complicated but they love each other, and it is that love that underpins the show. Permission neither demonised nor valorised, it just showed and that is what made it incredibly effective.

Neetu Singh’s direction is phenomenal. The actors are consistently engaging, funny and move in ways that are visually interesting. Tara Theatre is in thrust and the actors actually make use of the full space. The chemistry between Butt and Malhotra Mukhtyar is unbelievable, the latter’s multi-rolling was also excellent. The show couldn’t work if the two didn’t work so well together. They were fundamentally convincing, watching the show almost felt voyeuristic, like you were peering in on their lives. They were the only two on stage throughout the show, their physicality was phenomenal, they worked effectively with the voice tracks to create the impression of not being alone. Credit goes to the voice actors as well (Bhasker Patel, Asfandyar Khan and Lavan Jeyarupalingam)  as their performances were wonderful, even without their physical presence.

Permission’s technical design is also revelatory. Amanda Ramaswamy (set and costume), Ali Hunter (lighting) and Pierre Flasse (sound) are all at the top of their game, elevating the relatively small stage space in Tara Theatre. It is hard to communicate in words how effective the design was, one almost forgot that it was there because of how immersive it made the world of Hanna and Minza.

Permission is the exact sort of story we need, it is nuanced, empathetic, fantastically executed, funny and sharp. It is a story that is unapologetically South Asian without verging into tropes or stereotype. It is rare to see something so fresh. Everyone who likes theatre should watch this show, and if there is any justice in the world Chawla, Singh, Butt and Malhotra Mukhtyar will be household names in the next decade.