REVIEW: The Ghost and Mrs Muir (Workshop)


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A musical interpretation of a modern classic – further stagings are not simply encouraged but are a necessity. 


I was invited to attend a workshop production of Penny Faith and Carmel Dean’s The Ghost and Mrs Muir, based on the 1945 novel of the same name by Josephine Leslie. It surprises me that this story has never been made into a musical before, it is an absolutely perfect candidate to adapt to stage. Set in 1910, the story follows the eponymous Mrs Muir, a recent widow as she moves to Gull Cottage with her children and maid. The show follows her as she asserts her independence and her relationship with the ghost of the sea captain who was the previous inhabitant of the house and whose death was mistakenly identified as suicide. 

What Faith and Dean have done is taken the source material and more explicitly made it a celebration of female strength and independence without losing the love story at its core. The writers update the story in a way that feels realistic, though I’d have enjoyed it if there were a few more moments with Lucy and Miles to make the betrayal feel more stark and if Martha had gotten angrier. 

Even though it was a workshop performance that was put together in 10 days, it was polished, professional and just a wonderful show. There wasn’t a weak link among the cast, all of them incredibly strong singers and actors. Obioma Ugoala and Laura Pitt-Pulford who play the titular ghost and Mrs Muir have incredible chemistry and are excellent leads for the show. Preeya Khalidas brings the character of Martha to life and grants her a level of internality that is not always present in supporting characters in this type of period piece. Rowan Macpherson and Conor Ewing who play Anna and Cyril Muir respectively add a wonderful humour to the show, and were able to let me get past my general aversion to having adults play children.

Above all else, the score was tremendous. Carmel Dean has written something that is simultaneously timeless and period appropriate. It contains hints of Sondheim, with some pacy lyrics and beautiful harmonies (particularly in the seaside song). Invisible is a standout in my view. The music is catchy, without being cloying, as the audience filtered out people were humming several of the recurring motifs. If played with a full orchestra, or even with a band I can imagine the impact would be huge, though there was something utterly charming about the 

It will be interesting to see how future productions of the show tackle some of the more difficult technical aspects. The stage directions are ambitious and include bringing portraits to life, many changes in scene and setting and various ghostly hijinks. There will be a fine line in terms of the staging and tech, to bring this to life without straying into the cheesy and undercutting the emotional core story.

The Ghost and Mrs Muir is an uncynical show, with a fantastic score. It is exactly the sort of show that families would enjoy.

REVIEW: Anna Lapwood


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A sensational, ethereal modern icon of the organ pulls out all the stops for her sold out solo show.”


A social media icon, it was only a matter of time before Anna Lapwood’s infectious charm and astonishing talent generated a sold out solo show at the Royal Albert Hall. Initially an Associated Artist, she was just named their inaugural Official Organist. Now, for her first production in that role, she performs alongside the incredible Philharmonia orchestra conducted by André de Ridder, as well as the Philharmonia Chorus and, rather sweetly, her own Pembroke College, Cambridge girls’ choir. 

The unofficial overarching theme, at least to me, was one of galactic wonder. The premise seemed to stem from the concept of time, space and contemplation.  The show opened with the spectacular Chevaliers de Sangreal from The Da Vinci Code, followed by a newly commission piece by Armenian composer Kristina Arakelyan, which felt equally cinematic in scale and style. This was followed by an effervescent piece by Hans Zimmer from Interstellar. The auditorium suddenly filled with sparkling lights, placing the historic Hall squarely into the futuristic starfield. It felt magical. Anna allowed not only her magnificent instrument, in all its Victorian glory to shine, but paid equal tender attention to soaring choral arrangements, smaller moments on the strings and lighthearted audience interactions. It felt like the aural equivalent of flowers blooming, delicately at first and then fervently, from Spring into Summer. 

She rather smartly introduced each piece with a brief explanation, letting the audience know what it meant to her and what the interpretation of the piece was about. This simple act, almost utilitarian in its execution, is something that I wish more performers of the abstract would offer their audiences. Straightforward and helpful, it allowed the audience to connect with the music so much more now that they understood, for example, that a dies irae motif was being used throughout. Context matters when forming individual interpretation. Finishing off with a cute combo known as “Catherine’s mash-up” based on a fleeting moment in an NYC coffee shop, the show ended with pieces from Lord of The Rings and How to Train Your Dragon. Finally the encore returned to another seminal Interstellar piece- No Time for Caution. Cue a well deserved lengthy standing ovation. 

Initially, I thought I wanted a more varied selection of music. I’m so used to having the mental bandwidth of a TikTok video that I thought the show should be played out like some sort of reels highlight. Anna deliberately chose to perform the pieces in full; all four movements of Cosmology by Max Richter in the first Act and the entirety of the Saint-Saëns Symphony 3 covering the whole second Act. It forced me to really pay attention, to listen to the changes in tempo, tone, timbre. It allowed moments of stillness and contemplation. It allowed soaring crescendos and orchestral boldness. But most importantly, it allowed me to feel. 

It’s impossible to dislike Anna. Her enthusiasm for spreading happiness through music is to be applauded. She meets her audience at their own level and takes them along for the ride. Even a birthday rendition from the entire Royal Albert Hall to her grandma Audrey who was sat in the audience was a sweet personal touch that despite being grand connected her to us. 

Ultimately, this is a stunning, stirring presentation of Anna’s talent. Her dedication to showcasing an overlooked instrument is inspiring and the inclusion of audience interaction felt authentic. Her star is on the melodious ascendant, in a constellation of genuine joy. Catch her while you can. 

Performed at Royal Albert Hall on 15th May 2025.

REVIEW: The Deep Blue Sea


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Tamsin Greig Leads a Quietly Shattering Revival of Rattigan’s Masterpiece


Lindsay Posner’s revival of Terence Rattigan’s The Deep Blue Sea is a production of restraint and delicacy. It doesn’t reach for theatrical fireworks, nor does it attempt to modernise or reframe the 1952 setting. Instead, it trusts the text and its quiet emotional force, allowing the heartbreak to seep in slowly. The result is a powerful, if at times muted, portrait of love, loss and survival.

Tamsin Greig leads the cast as Hester Collyer, a clergyman’s daughter who has left the safety of her marriage to a High Court judge in pursuit of passion. She now lives in a threadbare boarding house with former RAF pilot Freddie Page. But Freddie cannot match the depth of feeling she brings to the relationship, and Hester finds herself spiralling. Greig delivers a performance of remarkable subtlety, showing a woman trying to maintain control even as she unravels. She plays Hester not as a tragic heroine but as someone deeply human — conflicted, polite, fragile and sometimes even funny.

Hadley Fraser’s Freddie is charming but emotionally adrift. He is a man shaped by war, suspended in time, and unprepared for the emotional demands Hester places on him. His performance softens Freddie’s bravado with flickers of vulnerability that make their relationship’s collapse all the more painful. Nicholas Farrell, as Hester’s estranged husband Sir William Collyer, brings a gentle dignity to the role. His version of love is dependable but measured, and he offers Hester not passion, but stability.

Finbar Lynch is excellent as Mr Miller, the disgraced doctor who becomes Hester’s unlikely confidant. His presence anchors the production. He neither judges nor saves Hester but offers her the rare gift of compassion without expectation. Selina Cadell brings humour and warmth as the landlady Mrs Elton, while the supporting cast deftly sketch a society still clinging to appearances in the face of private chaos.

Peter McKintosh’s set design captures the drabness of Hester’s world — faded wallpaper, dull colours and worn furniture speak to lives fraying at the edges. Her own paintings, raw but unremarkable, hang on the walls like desperate attempts at self-expression.

The production is finely tuned, but not without its flaws. In its quietness, it sometimes slips into inaudibility. Key lines, especially in more intimate scenes, occasionally get lost. In a play so reliant on nuance, this detracts from its impact at times. A touch more vocal projection could sharpen its emotional clarity.

Still, this remains a deeply felt revival that honours Rattigan’s original. The play’s emotional charge, drawn from the playwright’s own history of heartbreak, still resonates. It does not offer easy answers, only honest reflections on the limits of love and the quiet courage it takes to carry on.

REVIEW: Keli


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A soaring soundscape meets a down-to-earth story


If, after reading the programme, you’re thinking “this show sounds a bit like a Scottish version of Brassed Off”, you’d be half right. It’s also about a brass band based in a historical mining town, and the community created around it, but with a very different tone and sensibility.

The protagonist Keli is a teenager under pressure – from her mother’s mental instability, from college and work, and from the relentless drive of the brass band leader to encourage Keli’s full potential as a tenor horn player, as the town brass band makes national finals for the first time in 75 years. However as the pressure builds, and the big night goes sideways, Keli has to retrace her steps in order to find her path forward.

This is done through a mystical older man who she meets down a coal mine, somewhere between her own sleep-deprived mind and an actual abandoned mine shaft, who she must explain herself to in order to find her truth. It’s an odd framing device, and doesn’t really ring true for the spirit of the story. Brass band is about community, and Keli’s revelation is that she wants to be a part of that community and her town – so why is so much time spent on her one-on-one conversation with a figment of her own imagination?

The actual story Keli tells is strong enough to stand alone – Liberty Black makes Keli bold, vulnerable, and proud, although constantly hampered by a quota of one F-bomb per line throughout the show, which quickly loses its impact. Particularly powerful are her scenes with her struggling mother, portrayed by Karen Fishwick, the pair carefully threading the needle between love, anger, blame and fear. Olivia Hematti also shines in a fantastic dual role as both Scottish coworker without any desire past the next Dragon Soop, and London nightlife girlie whose zest for life can overcome the worst night.

Really the star of the show is the music, composed by writer Martin Green and led by on-stage MD Louis Abbott. It is masterfully worked in throughout the show, as natural as air, blending the mystical with the heartbreaking and the final triumph, when at last we get to see the entire brass band on-stage along with the performers. The swell of the music is so beautiful it makes you mad that we haven’t had them on-stage the entire time, especially in a show whose entire thesis is the power in community and communal musical effort.

For a show that’s so convoluted, it’s a simple message, one that’s effectively pulled off through the talent of the cast, the humour of the script, and the beauty of the music. If the rest of the muddle could be pared back, there’s a star of a show there.

REVIEW: Love You More


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A funny, dynamic play about nostalgia and family 


Suitable for ages 14+. 

Love You More is a celebration of childhood – in particular, teenage fandom and the relationship between a mother and daughter. Written by, produced by, and starring Sarah O’Dell, based on the love she shared with her mother, the play is filled with goofy comedy and bittersweet nostalgia.  

O’Dell is such fun to watch as Matilda Burton, a massive fan of pop icon Henry Steel! Her performance is passionate, and her comedy is brazenly electric. She allows us to look back on fangirl behaviour not with embarrassment (even if it may have involved making two dolls kiss and fantasising about marriage), but with immense fondness. Being young and madly in love with a celebrity was the peak of our joy in life, so it was lovely to watch such an exciting and memorable production. 

The chemistry between O’Dell and Katherine De Leiros, who plays Matilda’s mother Rosie, is one of such beautiful sensitivity. De Leiros delivers an excellent performance – I could hear several audience members becoming emotional! O’Dell succeeds in writing a sweet person without being overly saccharine; Rosie is a very likeable character, and De Leiros’s scenes are enjoyable to watch. 

Alongside the hilarious moments, Love You More explores bereavement and how it can affect a person years down the line. This is a testament to O’Dell’s ability to nicely blend the two stories – the fangirling and the mother-daughter love – so that the character of Matilda is fully fleshed out and compelling to watch. To see O’Dell switch between playing a carefree girl and an adult who has held on to her giddy optimism despite her sadness was truly amazing. 

Dan Nash showcases a great range! He plays the singer Henry Steel, as well as other characters such as Matilda’s obnoxious brother. His comic timing is fantastic, and his confidence adds to the image of the cute boy singer that every woman spent their teenage years crushing on. All three actors genuinely seem to be enjoying themselves on stage and with each other, making Love You More a fun-filled performance for all. 

I will say, however, that despite the hilarity of the comic interludes, e.g. when Matilda is interviewing the aggressive Gordon Ramsay as part of her journalism career, and a competition between four contestants to win tickets to a Henry Steel concert, they also feel slightly unnecessary. They are fun, for sure, but the scenes aren’t so seamless in relation to the rest of the play. Despite this, the actors are on their comic A-game. Love You More is a delightful play! 

Kudos to all involved! 

REVIEW: DANCE IS NOT FOR US & BOTTOMS


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Energetic and exciting, offering a unique experience of storytelling


Dance is such an interesting medium: without any words, it is possible to create an atmosphere and an image that sticks with an audience, and that’s exactly what Dance Is Not For Us did. 

The company proved exactly why dance is so incredibly important to us. Initially, I was skeptical of the idea that dance could tell meaningful stories. The dance by Omar Rajeh & Maqamat rejects this idea and rearranges it, creating a type of dance specifically meant for people who have never/rarely felt attached to dance before. Where dance originally seems cautious and poised, this company proves that dance is for anyone who has a passion. Especially for those that feel dance is not for them. In a fantastic, innovative display of movement and dance, they display why dance should not only be for everyone, but should be essential for everyone, to understand each other’s different walks of life. It offers style, position and technique of thought that allow us to engage with difficult themes, negative emotion, and determination. 

The beauty of dance is that it is understandable, no matter the language. Whether this is the first dance you’re attending or the fiftieth, it is universally compatible with any sort of understanding of language. How to transcribe this fantastic movement into words that can convey the message portrayed here? The only answer is this: come and watch the performance by Rajeh. Immerse yourself in the process of creation, of finding yourself among others. That is what this performance offers.

Another performance I had the pleasure of attending was Bottoms. Full of life, energy, and intricate moments, the performance was also an hour long, and a wonderful look into how creative dancers and choreographers can be. Sections of bright lively dance were cut through with times of motionlessness and of breathing, along with painting. 

Once again, the performance was universally understood: without words, they made us laugh and lean forward in our seats, all with the same melody of music playing throughout the piece. Both performances were impressive, capturing the essence of humanity in their heartfelt pieces. 

One downside of Bottoms was the auction of art created through the work at the end. Lasting between ten and fifteen minutes, it felt strange and a little uncomfortable to sit through people bidding on art after a lively performance. Some of the energy and enjoyment fell away, despite the performers’ own effort. 

Overall, both performances were fantastic, offering new perspectives and an alternative way of viewing movement. Although the auction at the end of Bottoms detracted from the show, I would not miss the chance to see these two performances, along with many others, at Dance International Glasgow this month!

REVIEW: The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A Wardrobe Full of Wonder – Narnia Casts Its Spell on Edinburgh


Celebrating the 75th anniversary of C.S. Lewis’ beloved novel, this touring production of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe is nothing short of spellbinding. From the moment the house lights dimmed, the audience was transported – not just into a story, but into the atmosphere of wartime England. With its evocative period details and thoughtful staging, the show was immediately immersive, capturing the era’s sense of quiet resilience. It truly felt like stepping back in time.

One of the early highlights came in the form of a poignant on-stage rendition of We’ll Meet Again, played by a live pianist. This beautifully tender moment helped set the emotional tone of the piece and provided a moving connection between the historical reality of the Pevensie children and the fantasy they were about to encounter.

When the wardrobe doors opened, the magic truly began. The production is a triumph of theatrical storytelling, weaving heart, wonder, and stagecraft with remarkable finesse. With a cast of 22, the show somehow felt twice as large – a testament to the commanding performances and seamless ensemble work that brought the world of Narnia vividly to life. The doubling of roles was handled so deftly that it was easy to forget how small the company actually was.

The set, while relatively simple, was transformed by imaginative lighting and smooth, stylised transitions. Clever choreography and movement ensured each shift in location felt organic and compelling. Combined with expert lighting design, the result was a fluid, dreamlike quality that drew the audience ever deeper into the narrative.

Music was another standout feature of the production. The cast played instruments live on stage, blurring the lines between actor and musician. The music felt ethereal and immersive – never just accompaniment, but an intrinsic part of the storytelling that elevated key emotional moments and added rich texture throughout.

The production also boasted some truly memorable performances. Katy Stephens commands the stage as the White Witch, delivering a performance that is as icy and menacing as it is mesmerising. Her portrayal perfectly captures the dark glamour of Narnia’s tyrant – regal, seductive, and terrifying in equal measure. Every scene she appeared in bristled with tension, and her chilling authority made her a magnetic centre of the drama.

Special mention must go to Ed Thorpe and Anya de Villiers as Mr and Mrs Beaver, who were effortlessly funny, warm, and engaging. Their comic timing and chemistry provided welcome lightness while maintaining the show’s emotional sincerity.

Craig Thornber also deserves high praise for his versatility, playing multiple roles with clarity and presence. His performance as The Professor was particularly compelling, exuding warmth and eccentricity. But it was his manipulation of the puppet cat Schrodinger – a hilarious and well-judged moment of comedy – that stole the show. His comic timing was impeccable, and his stage presence consistently strong throughout.

Perhaps most impressively, the puppetry across the entire production was simply magnificent. The expressive design and sophisticated movement work brought creatures like Aslan and other fantastical beings to life in breathtaking fashion. In my opinion, it was worthy of standing beside productions like The Lion King in terms of both craftsmanship and emotional impact.

Whether it’s your first visit to Narnia or a nostalgic return, this production offers a fresh, heartfelt, and visually arresting take on a classic. A dazzling and unforgettable evening of theatre – truly magical.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: THE NAKED NEDS

Hot off the heels of their sold-out 2024 tour, The Naked Neds are back! Get ready for a rollercoaster of laughter, tears, and maybe a few awkward moments with Paul, Jamie, Tony, Harry, and Bev! 

‘The Naked Neds’ follows a group of Glasgow lads as they navigate the turbulent aftermath of their best friend’s suicide. In a world where politicians’ expenses seem to matter more than NHS waiting lists, they decide to take matters into their own hands. After a string of failed fundraising attempts and just when their lives couldn’t get any more complicated, one of the boys finds a lump, throwing their plans – and everything else – into a whole new perspective and they realise there’s only one thing they can do; take their clothes off! 

How did the idea of combining comedy with a live self-check demonstration come about?

Ingram Noble: When I realised that me and my mates had no idea how to check ourselves I knew something had to be done about it. You can read as many leaflets or guides as you like, but nothing is going to stick in your head like three idiots on a stage talking you through how to check yourself. It’s been groundbreaking, as far as we know (and we’ve done the research!) it’s the first time it’s ever been done on stage and last year’s tour, albeit small, left us with loads of feedback from young men that checked themselves for the first time after seeing the show, after hearing that I knew that my job was done, well, almost done.

What has been the most surprising or memorable reaction from an audience member so far?

Ingram Noble: Irvine was mad – in the best possible way. They came on the ride with us and their energy just propelled us along the way. I was that into it I managed to rip a pair of tearaway trousers into shreds – with one show to go. (Sellotape did nothing but wax my legs!)

Lucian Burlingame: Probably my gran after the show, being so surprised that I had just done a full monty. 

Aidan Curley: The last night in Glasgow when my mum, girlfriend and friends all threw roses on the stage at me.

How do you strike the perfect balance between delivering laugh-out-loud moments and addressing serious health topics?

Ingram Noble: Striking the perfect balance between comedy and serious health topics is all about authenticity and timing. As a writer, I focus on ensuring that the humour feels natural to the characters and the world they inhabit, rather than forcing jokes into sensitive moments. Comedy works best when it’s rooted in truth, so I let the humour come from the characters’ personalities and interactions rather than making light of the issue itself. Pacing is also key; I structure the script so that the laughs create a comfortable atmosphere before weaving in the more serious elements. By building trust with the audience through humor, they’re more open to receiving important messages without feeling like they’re being lectured. And when you incorporate laddish, Glaswegian culture, the jokes almost write themselves. There’s something about the way Glaswegian men talk, rip into each other, and navigate awkward conversations that makes comedy flow naturally, even in unexpected moments. Of course, I always test the balance in rehearsals, making adjustments based on real reactions. The goal is for people to walk away having laughed, but also having learned something meaningful. 

Lucian Burlingame: I think the script tends to balance extremely well, where there’s a build up between the two, but it does take a lot of experimenting line-by-line to see where you can make a change to help deliver it. 

Aidan Curley: Finding the perfect balance between laughs and addressing serious issues in the play has been going through the script and making use of the characters’ jokes in the best way possible but also trying to find moments to make them vulnerable. 

Barry Morrell: We don’t treat the serious stuff like an afterthought – but we also never preach. The laughter opens the door, and once people are comfortable, we slip in the truth. It’s like having a pint with your mates and ending up chatting about the stuff that no one usually talks about. That balance comes from being honest, not trying to be clever. 

Hannah Mary Taylor: I think it’s about understanding that the characters use comedy and laughter as a way to explore these issues, it brings them up from the darker side of what they’re all going through. Once you understand that, it’s a lot easier to understand that there’s a lot going on behind the jokes and a lot more emotion. I think the two intertwine with one another and I don’t think these characters are capable of exploring one without the other.Lewis Gillon: I see the characters as real people going through things day to day, just like in reality. Treating each scene with the respect and humility it deserves is important due to the severity of the topics being shown. Authenticity is the thing that springs to mind, and placing myself in the characters’ shoes and trying to convey it had this become my reality and what my response would be to the people closest to me.

What’s one hilarious or unexpected thing that’s happened during a live performance of The Naked Neds?

Ingram Noble: Falling off of the stage, but I’m sure everyone else has mentioned that. On the final night, last year in Kirkcaldy we all lost it, completely just left the script behind after everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong. There were no staples in the staple gun, beer cans were full instead of empty, though I have a feeling that might have been Lucian and Aidan trying to have a drink at the end of the tour! 

Lucian Burlingame: Ingram falling off of the stage in Glasgow and improvising a line to get out of it perfectly. 

Aidan Curley: The most hilarious thing to happen during The Naked Neds performances has to be when Ingram exited the stage and fell off of the stage. The fall was loud and sounded painful, all whilst I’m on stage with Tanya trying not to break character. To be fair to him, he managed to play it off as part of the show.

How has partnering with Cahonas Scotland helped amplify the show’s life-saving message?

Ingram Noble: There’s no point in doing the show if we’re not doing it right. Cahonas Scotland has helped us make sure that beyond the laughs, we’re delivering something genuinely meaningful. Their support has extended the show’s reach beyond the stage, allowing us to engage with audiences through online awareness campaigns, and real action. Knowing that young men are leaving the theatre not just entertained but actually checking themselves for the first time proves why this partnership matters. Their expertise in raising awareness about testicular cancer and the importance of self-checking has given our show real credibility. While The Naked Neds is first and foremost a comedy, having the backing of a respected charity ensures that the health message at its core is accurate, impactful, and reaches the right audience. I would encourage anyone reading this to head to their website (www.cahonasscotland.org) to get the lowdown on testicular cancer! (Check yersel’!)

What do you hope audiences take away – not just about men’s health, but about friendship and vulnerability?

Ingram Noble: For me, The Naked Neds is the most important thing in the world because it’s more than just a comedy, it’s a conversation starter. I want audiences to leave not only with a better understanding of men’s health but also with a deeper appreciation for friendship and

vulnerability. At its core, this show is about the way men, especially in laddish, Glaswegian culture navigate emotions, banter, and bravado while struggling to say the things that really matter. I hope people see themselves and their mates in these characters and realise that it’s okay to drop the act sometimes. It’s okay to check in on each other. It’s okay to talk about fears, health, and mental well-being without feeling like less of a man. If even one person walks away from the show and opens up to a friend, checks themselves for the first time, or just feels a little less alone, then we’ve done our job. Because at the end of the day, The Naked Neds isn’t just about laughs — it’s about a lot more. 

Lucian Burlingame: 100% that friendship is key in any situation and that vulnerability isn’t a weakness. Your friends will always be there to get you out of stuff like this. We want the audience to leave and remember to be grateful for the friendships they have. 

Aidan Curley: I hope the audiences take away, not just information about mental health but about men being able to be vulnerable around friends and being able to express themselves in a way that they aren’t going to be ridiculed by their mates for it. I also want the audience to see what a community of mates can do when put in a time of sadness and how they can work together to bring hope and raise awareness for the rest of the community. 

Barry Morrell: That it’s okay to not be okay – and it’s more than okay to talk about it. We want people to leave feeling like they’ve just had a night out with their best mates, where nothing was off-limits. If a bunch of blokes can get naked on stage and talk about testicles, you can probably check in on your mate or open up a bit yourself. 

Hannah Mary Taylor: I hope they take away how important your friends are. How important it is to be open with your friends and to be there for them in times of need and to have a laugh with them when things aren’t looking so good. 

Lewis Gillon: I hope it encourages men to feel heard and listened to. Too many men suffer in silence because they can’t articulate the weight on their shoulders and would feel judged for doing so. I hope it demonstrates how “manly” being vulnerable is and how impactful a healthy conversation about life with friends can be.

Find The Naked Neds on tour at a theatre near you:
23rd of May: Macrobert Arts Centre (Stirling)
6th & 7th of June: East Kilbride Arts Centre (East Kilbride)
13th of June: Cottiers Theatre (Glasgow)
1st – 9th of August: SpaceUK @Surgeons’ Hall (Edinburgh Fringe)
15th of August: The Lanternhouse at Cumbernauld Theatre (Cumbernauld)
29th of August: Rutherglen Town Hall (Rutherglen)
5th of September: 53two (Manchester)

6th of September: The Little Theatre Cleadon (Sunderland)
13th of September: Beacon Arts Centre (Greenock)
19th of September: Three Villages Hall (Arrochar)

CAST AND CREW 

Paul – Lucian Burlingame 

Jamie – Ingram Noble 

Harry – Aidan Curley 

Tony – Barry Morrell 

Bev – Hannah Mary Taylor 

Cammy – Lewis Gillon 

Writer & Director – Ingram Noble

REVIEW: The Comedy About Spies


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Pun-filled and fun-filled: there are few better ways to spend your evening with this terrifically executed spy romp


Buster Keaton eat your heart out. This slick, fast paced, rapid-fire festival of humour comes at you quicker than an Airplane! gag. 

For a production company that has only existed since 2008, Mischief  have genuinely honed their craft. Henry Lewis and Henry Shields’ script is clever, pun-filled and fun-filled. Bring an inhaler because this show seriously doesn’t let you catch your breath. 

A simple storyline, we follow two Soviet spies and two American spies in 60s London as they try to outsmart each other on a secret mission to obtain certain important documents at the Piccadilly Hotel. Caught up in the melée is a James Bond auditionee and a hapless couple just looking for some respite. An incredible array of in-jokes, historical references and cultural nods pepper the dialogue and physical comedy.

From start to finish I was howling, from the visual puns of quick prop changes and gymnastic slapstick, to the machine-gun speed of verbal riffs, callbacks, clapbacks and punch lines.

Known for their extremely inventive set design, designer David Farley achieves a kinetic energy that means you are always playing visual acrobatics to keep up with the pace of the performers as they constantly use the space at every level. Resembling what can only be an interpretation of the Windows logo, four bedrooms in primary colours are laid out like a 2×2 box for each of the character teams: one for the Soviets, the Americans, the Brits and the auditionee. Beautiful plush art deco touches for the hotel lobby are wistfully rendered to evoke nostalgia as well as practicality. 

The entire cast is sensational, as is to be expected. Standouts for me include Bernard Wright (played by Henry Shields) whose lovelorn British baker is truly the heart of the show. It is a wonderfully nuanced, “straight” performance that cuts through all the humour with charm and courage, giving the audience a baseline breather from the gags.  I was also a fan of Sergei Ivanov (played by Chris Leask) whose faux English accent was clearly borrowed from ‘Allo ‘Allo!. Despite being a Soviet spy, he was endearing and human, with small nods to his wish for friendship amongst the icy reality of the cold war. And finally, a special mention to the maniacal human embodiment of farce that is Douglas Woodbead (played by Henry Lewis). His larger than life character of an actor trying to get the role of James Bond exemplified British comedy and the presentation of the absurd. Combining bombastic physical comedy with wit and pathos in ever more ridiculous set ups is truly a talent Lewis possesses.  A thoroughly modern millennial jester. 

The whole show fizzes, emanating the boundless energy of a child with a sugar rush, but it also has the refinement of Shakespeare and the comic timing of a Marx brother. It’s like Operation Mincemeat and 39 Steps had a secret affair with Cirque du Soleil. The audience could simply not stop laughing; everything was choreographed to within an inch of its life, and the execution of each line was flawless. 

Ultimately, this show does not punch down or go for cheap shots and lazy insults. The jokes are witty, irreverent and maintain silliness with soul. Yes the closing act has more twists and turns than a drive through Milton Keynes but who cares? This show is the most fun you can have this side of the Iron Curtain. Probably the other side, too. 

REVIEW: Nosebleeds


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A Story Poignantly Bleeds the Personal and Political in a War-Torn Identity


Nosebleeds follows the journey of U (Katrine Renee Reoutov), a person who is half Ukraine, half Russian. U guides the audience through fragmented childhood memories—excitement over cakes, meeting friends—while digital calendars flipping through time are projected onto the back wall. As the narrative approaches the 2020s, time slows down, and “coming home” becomes increasingly distant—an irrevocable loss of what was once near and seemingly eternal. The piece poses poignant questions to contemporary audiences: How does war fracture a person’s identity, sense of belonging, and their connection to the world? Do people even care?

The writing is gorgeous—poetic, intimate, genuine, and deeply reflective, with touches of humor. It maintains a rare literary quality, something increasingly scarce in modern theatre. The nosebleed metaphor powerfully embodies war’s dual assault—external violence rupturing the self from within, an internal crisis manifesting in the body’s most intimate circuitry. Like war itself, the bleeding is cyclical, unstoppable: a visceral rebellion of flesh against invisible borders. Blood here is both life and violence, a paradox etched into literary tradition. The recurring link between U’s nosebleeds and their childhood sofa lands with particular force, emphasizing how war’s violence invades even the most private corners of life. While the story examines the Russo-Ukrainian War through a personal lens, this perspective doesn’t diminish its political and emotional gravity. Instead, it adds a layer of intimacy—something often missing in media coverage, which allows us to detach from distant tragedies. 

Katrine Renee Reoutov delivers a performance brimming with energy and clarity. They effortlessly transition between scenes, carrying the show with authenticity and emotional force.

Yet, while the narrative moves fluidly through scenes—weaving together imagery, personal notes, and memories—there is occasional inconsistency in the literary devices used, creating a slightly disjointed experience for the audience. The direction also lacks coherence with the writing. The stage—adorned with a microphone, a wooden stool, a plate of pickled cucumbers, and a plant— was not integrated meaningfully into the storytelling. None of these elements hold dramaturgical significance, nor do they enhance the narrative. While the projections effectively convey the passage of time, displaying dialogue on the wall adds little to the world-building and further burdens an already text-heavy production.

With its literary brilliance and sharp political commentary, Nosebleeds offers an intimate yet piercing glimpse into a life shaped by war. More than a personal account, it challenges modern audiences’ apathy toward global crises. Yet, it also leaves one wondering: Would this story resonate more powerfully on the page than on the stage?