Tag: review

REVIEW: HOUSE23 Presents Short Shorts: Comedy

Published on by Victoria AshfordLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A fun collection of comedy shorts

New art community HOUSE23 put on a limited selection of comedy shorts from up-and-coming talent, with a Q&A with a BAFTA award winning director and a BAFTA award winning writer at Riverside Studios to discuss their work. 

The evening started off with a friendly and warm welcome from Molly, the founder of House23. A small group had already formed and were talking to each other, several of whom either knew or had worked with each other before. After brief introductions and a short chat with an actor-writer, we were given a goodie bag and ushered into one of the cinema screens. The screen itself was small, maybe a 40 seat capacity, but it was perfect for the screening and the seats were really comfy. Other short film screenings have not been in such venues and that alone made this event stand out. 

There were five films being screened, each of around 20 minutes. Each short was of high quality and what was produced on presumably a small budget was impressive. It is easy to produce very amateur productions on small budgets but none of them felt like that. Each was polished, engaging plots, well acted and good soundtracks or sound design and the filmmakers involved clearly were experienced. A standout short being “Egg Timer” which deals with the pressures of society expecting women to have children, which is very topical at the moment. All five shorts were equally funny and got a good reception from the audience. It was clear to see why several had been winning awards and festivals. There was one actor who appeared in a couple and it had been curated so that we saw the actor play a character avoiding noise and socialising to another character who was “hired” by a couple, making the audience feel like we were going on a personal development journey. Only in comedy short screenings would that level of attention to detail work and actually made the second screening even funnier, given how we had previously seen him. 

The Q&A was brief but a good insight into what it takes to develop a short film, highlighting many challenges that filmmakers face. What was being said clearly resonated with the audience as many were nodding in agreement. It was interesting to hear how the director went from shooting shorts to working with Saturday Night Live UK and how she approached the step up. Equally it was an interesting insight to hear how the writer was organising a rehearsal for the bbc on a silent film and the process of the filming. The night ended with more networking, discussing what was thought of the films and friends catching up. In an industry that relies on connections and your network, it was lovely and refreshing to see a group of people come together to support each other. 

After having a brief discussion with Molly about where she wants this art community to go, as someone who works in the industry and a fellow creative, it is reassuring to hear that there are people who are wanting to create a sense of community and support, especially when the arts is largely accessible for people who have the funds to do so. It’s exciting to know that there is a startup that is looking to address issues that filmmakers face and the realities of being a creative, even more so in uncertain times.

You can keep up to date on upcoming events via Instagram @HOUSE23_LTD or email hello@house23.co.uk for any enquires. 

The cast of The Gondoliers

REVIEW: The Gondoliers

Published on by Natalie BorensteinLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A ritzy riot of an opera

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

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

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

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

REVIEW: David Arnold in Conversation

Published on by Miles MorganLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

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

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

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

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

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

REVIEW: Fixing

Published on by Seth Connor-FullwoodLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

REVIEW: Fantasia Orchestra with Jasdeep Singh Degun: Between the Raags

Published on by Antonia ConstantinLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Fantasia Orchestra led a vibrant and instinctive meeting of East and West, where traditions blended naturally into a shared, living musical experience.

There are events that promise to curate a programme where West meets East, but there are others others that move past that idea entirely. Under Tom Fetherstonhaugh, this felt fluid and open. Not East meets West or the other way round, but rather a shared space where both could exist at once. In a world he described as fractured, everything felt quietly grounding, cultures coming together naturally. 

There was a looseness to the evening, closer to a live session than a formal concert, but never unfocused. Everything relied on listening and trust. The Fantasia Orchestra did not just accompany. They were the engine of the night, pulling the audience through shifting moods with so much energy, precision and a sense of fun. 

At the centre, Jasdeep Singh Degun felt less like a soloist and more like a connector. His sitar moved through the sound rather than sitting on top of it. Sometimes it blended so closely you almost lost it, then it would return, bright and clear. It carried both the story and the atmosphere, holding everything together without forcing it.

The programme could have felt mixed, but it worked. Degun’s own pieces sat alongside Jean-Philippe Rameau and minimalist works by Terry Riley and Philip Glass. The connections became clear in the repetition and slow shifts, which felt shared across styles.

Rameau brought some of the strongest moments. In Tristes Apprêts, the sitar took the vocal line with real sensitivity. It did not imitate the voice, it reshaped it. The result felt both familiar and new at the same time. Earlier, the Thunderstorm from Platée added contrast with its sharp energy, a reminder that the programme needed that shift in tone.

Rhythm was at the centre of everything. Gurdain Rayatt on tabla was incredible, acting as the heartbeat of the evening. His playing grounded the music and kept it moving, often pulling your focus as much as the melody.

This really came through in Riley’s In C, which was one of the most striking parts of the night. Degun and Rayatt, with their backs to the orchestra all the time and unable to take cues, followed it almost instinctively. It felt less like coordination and more like shared instinct. The lead violinist was turning from time to time towards Degun, listening closely to his rhythm, and everything seemed to settle into a pulse created in the moment.

That sense of negotiation defined the evening. The differences in rhythm and structure were not smoothed out. Instead, they were explored. Eastern and Western approaches met through listening and adjusting, creating something that felt alive rather than fixed.

The final piece, Arya, brought everything together. It felt calm and resolved, as if the music had found its balance.

The sound itself was also handled with care. In a space like this, balance can easily slip, but here the sitar, tabla and strings sat clearly together.

This was not just a collaboration but a real meeting of traditions, handled with care and confidence. It showed how music can bring different voices together without losing what makes them distinct.

REVIEW: Three60 World’s Evolution

Published on by Will OsbonLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

A highly skilled and thrilling dance showcase that struggles greatly to deliver on its storytelling promises.

After its initial Glasgow showcase in 2022 and its reimagining in 2025, Scottish Street Dance troupe Three60 is now taking “World’s Evolution” on tour. This dance fusion show promises multiple styles of dance as well as a story that follows the journey of humanity. But does it succeed in this mission? It’s a mixed bag.

There is no denying the ability of these performers. From popping, krumping and tutting, to African and Caribbean dance, the technique is off the charts here. This show is stuffed with styles, and the group does a great job at alternating the pace and energy of the show as these styles fluctuate. Performances here are stronger when the group performs as a collective. Earlier sections of the show relied on duets, solos or disconnected sequences, where the group feels more like performers running in and out of scenes as opposed to a collective telling a story together. These sections are still strong, but the final three songs pull together some fantastic footwork and synchronicity that feels like the shows cherry on top. In part this felt like a wonderful finale, but it also, in part, felt like a missing component only realised in the last ten to fifteen minutes. 

The show was structured into a series of episodes, krump heavy nearer the beginning and through the middle, but with more variation around the edges. While the arrangement of episodes feels somewhat off, the show still succeeds in delivering eye-catching set pieces. This is done through design elements and embodied choreography that discretely communicated new ideas. One performer adopted a mother earth style costume and other performers adopted large duster / trench coats, indicating individuals shrouded by a dystopian existence. On the other hand, performers at one point danced in a party-like setting with intermittent mimed drinking interspersed throughout, indicating a struggle with alcohol and substances. In general, Three60’s use of costume, small props and choreography, as well as lighting choices, communicated plenty about the themes and ideas of World’s Evolution; technology, desire, female solidarity, loneliness, and more. These were expansive episodes, some more successful than others, the most visceral by far being the sequences covering themes of loneliness and female solidarity.

While these dancers are highly skilled and a thrill to watch, and while certain design elements add some meaning to the dances, much of this structure is decidedly communicated through repetitive royalty free footage, voice samples and visual text. This separates up each dance sequence and is a common practice in Hip-Hop showcases. Unfortunately, these video elements and samples do not add anything to that which the choreography communicates readily on its own. Because of this, images of nuclear bombs and ticking clocks, sporadic text reading “Love”, “War”, “Poverty”, and even a distracting voice line from The Dark Knight Rises, feels rather superfluous. 

What “World’s Evolution” promises is a highly technical dance fusion show and a journey through humanity and a story of the world. Indeed, if you are looking for the former, you will be pleased. These performances are highly skilled and choreography does a perfectly good job at communicating its ideas. For the latter, what we instead receive are episodes that embody themes and ideas only. For a dance showcase, this is realistically still quite the accomplishment. But any promised attempt at coherent narrative is unfortunately lost. Perhaps some more focus in the future on using inter-scene video elements in order to lay out a narrative, one which cannot be (and is not already) communicated through the dancers, will help deliver on this promise and ultimately elevate the piece further. 

REVIEW: My Uncle is not Pablo Escobar 

Published on by jaketurnerchanLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

REVIEW: The Spectacular

Published on by paddycardwellLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

 An energetic and often funny play with a vital subject at its core, yet one which struggles to balance satire and seriousness.

For most schoolchildren in the United Kingdom, the history of armed conflict on the island of Ireland was not on their curriculum. This absence of education on Irish matters – dating back to the Anglo-Norman invasion of 1169, all the way through to the Good Friday Agreement of 1998 – is exactly what Séan Butler’s The Spectacular seeks to correct. Whilst this intention is certainly a noble one, the play unfortunately fails to give this important subject matter the attention and sincerity it deserves. 

The play consists of two young, dissident Republicans from Dublin named Jake and Naomi who insist they are “not the IRA”. The play follows them as they workshop different methods, or ‘spectaculars’, of Irish Nationalist activism in order to end the ongoing British occupation of the six counties that make up Northern Ireland. These vary wildly from the relatively benign and humorous to the harrowing and terroristic. As the drama progresses, a rift begins to form between the pair and they are forced to interrogate each other’s, as well as their own, motivations for their activism. They soon realise the profound differences in their attitudes towards the cause and end up reckoning with the fact that not all republicanism is made the same. 

The play is written and directed by Butler, whose kinetic lighting, sound and stage design give the drama a frantic, sometimes abrasive feel which fits well with the theme and provides funny and slapstick moments. The actors do a great job balancing the comedic with the serious and the screen behind the performers provides entertaining slideshows depicting both important Irish history and pop culture. 

However, the writing and development of these characters sometimes feels muddled. For example, Naomi is presented to the audience in the first three quarters of the play to be the more measured and intelligent half of the duo. It is even said that she left Dublin to study for a PhD at an English university and evidently serves as the brains to Jake’s brawn. However, her character arc seems to take a jarring 180-degree turn in the final act of the play, as her ‘spectaculars’ are revealed to be more brutish and ill-conceived than anything that the gullible and simpler Jake had thought of. The ensuing final moments of the play felt rushed and out of place with the rest of the piece. 

This unevenness extends to the play’s broader ambition. Butler clearly wants to use humour to expose British ignorance of Irish history, and there are moments where this lands, such as the slideshow sequences and quips about the British Royal Family which create a sharp comic rhythm that the rest of the play struggles to sustain. But too often the satire drifts into caricature. The wilful ignorance of the British population being lampooned is so broad and cartoonish that it never quite implicates the audience in the way it needs to. For audiences who already know the history, the treatment will feel shallow. However, for those who don’t, it may leave them with the impression that they have a better understanding now. 

The Spectacular is by no means without merit. It is energetic, often funny, and its performers are committed throughout. The decision to involve audience members was a welcome one, which provided moments of spontaneity and unpredictability that loosened the tension between the play’s heavier themes.

The play’s run at the Camden People’s Theatre has unfortunately coincided, entirely by chance, with a reminder of just how much weight this subject still carries. In recent weeks, a dissident republican group calling itself the New IRA attempted a proxy bomb attack in Lurgan, forcing a kidnapped delivery driver at gunpoint to a nearby police station with an explosive device in the boot of his car. The timing is unfortunate and certainly nothing that the play’s team could have anticipated. But it serves as a sobering illustration of why the topic of violent republicanism deserves more than a comedic framework can comfortably hold.

REVIEW: Flyby

Published on by annieyezhoua29f00172fLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Ambitious musical grounded in human fragility

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

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

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

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

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

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

REVIEW: Shooting From Below

Published on by Jimena BatresLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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