IN CONVERSATION WITH: Mike Tweddle


Next week, Oxford Playhouse and Out of Chaos bring a bold new of Macbeth to the
stage, featuring just two award-winning actors who play over twenty roles.
 
The production is directed by Mike Tweddle, the Artistic Director and CEO of Oxford
Playhouse, who co-founded Out of Chaos seventeen years ago. Before the production’s
run at The Playhouse, we spoke with Mike, who told us more about what to expect from this fresh take on Shakespeare’s tragedy.


Macbeth comes to Oxford Playhouse from Tuesday 29 April to Thursday 1 May. What can you tell us about the show? 

It’s a unique version of Macbeth, with only two actors energetically playing 20 roles! However, I believe it’s also a faithful rendition of what is – in my opinion – Shakespeare’s most dramatic play. 

What can you tell us about the inception and development process of this particular production of Macbeth?

We wanted to find a way to tour a great Shakespeare text to theatres and audiences of all sizes, in a very portable way. Hence there are just two actors, two props and no set in this production! All of the settings and atmospheres that we create are achieved through inventive performance, lighting and sound. In my view, one of the best things about theatre is that it can happen anywhere, and we wanted to create something that embraced this. 

What makes this production of Macbeth different from previous versions of Shakespeare’s iconic tragedy? 

A key desire for us was to really include the audience in the action. This is essential with only two performers on stage, so the actors are constantly talking to the audience and giving them a range of identities throughout the play. This, I hope, invites the audience into a deeper understanding and experience of the story. 

How did you approach the challenge of having just two actors portray multiple of Shakespeare’s characters? 

The actors work very hard at this sometimes! There is one scene in particular, after King Duncan has been murdered when ten characters all converge on the same scene in a flurry of panic and suspicion. Paul and Hannah, our incredible actors, train for this scene as if they’re preparing for a 10k run! Given there is no time for costume changes in this production, we use character names and other verbal signposting, as well as vocal and physical distinctions, to ensure that the audience can follow who’s being who at all times! 

It looks like this production strays from the typical setting of Macbeth, what can you tell us about the design of the show? 

We have worked closely with lighting designer Ashley Bale and Sound Designer/Composer Matt Eaton to create landscapes and environments for each scene, full of atmosphere and energy, using only lighting and sound on an otherwise bare stage. This has enabled us to tour the show internationally and to adapt to an enormous range of performance spaces. 

Macbeth has been touring the country and has entertained thousands of young people so far, why is reaching this audience so significant? 

Macbeth is a heightened exploration of the dilemmas we all face in our lives, and young people are no exception. Is it right to remain loyal to someone, even if you believe you might create a better world by betraying that loyalty? Should we follow our superstitions or beliefs, even when they lead us down a dangerous path? Should we take the time to think and consider all options, before we make a life-changing decision? Shakespeare explores such questions with great insight and power, and yet his language is inaccessible when you see it on the page. We hope to be able to improve familiarity and confidence towards Shakespeare for young people who see this piece.  

What do you hope the audience will take away from this performance of Macbeth

The brilliance of this play is that you can interpret many messages from it, depending on who you are and what you’re working through in your life. So I don’t want to second guess its message for anyone! However, I hope that audiences will take away a sense of excitement about the potential of Shakespeare’s language, and of theatre as an artform, to thrill and shed new light. 

For tickets and info, please visit https://www.oxfordplayhouse.com/events/macbeth

REVIEW:The Play’s The Thing. A One Person Hamlet


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A Bold, Bare, and Brilliant Solo Dive into Shakespeare’s Darkest Mind


I walked into Wilton’s Music Hall not quite sure what to expect as it is not every day you see Hamlet performed by one person—and only a few months ago, Andrew Scott gave us a one-man Vanya that left a high bar. Hamlet, though, feels even riskier. A dense web of grief, madness, politics, and philosophy, usually requiring a cast of 20. How could one person possibly carry it?

Well, Mark Lockyer doesn’t just carry it. He lifts it, distills it, and lets it take flight.

From the moment Lockyer stepped onto the stripped-back stage (just a red curtain, a wooden chair and table, a coffee pot, and a single floor lamp) he set the tone: no spectacle, no fuss. He sat quietly, took a sip of coffee, placed his head in his hands, and then… he became Hamlet. Or rather, he became the world of the play, embodying not just Hamlet’s turmoil, but every character who dares to cross the Danish court.

What followed was not a “performance” in the usual sense. It felt more like a channelling. Lockyer was a vessel, shifting fluidly between characters with nothing more than a change in voice, posture, or rhythm. There was no confusion, no gimmickry—just clarity, intimacy, and raw precision. Every gesture mattered. In the simplicity of the staging, there was deep complexity.

And there was something else at play—a chemistry beyond the stage, between actor and director. This is a collaboration between Lockyer and Fiona Laird, and you can feel the trust. The performance flows with ease and intention, as if shaped over years of shared language. Lockyer’s delivery has that rare quality of being technically sharp and emotionally instinctive, a result, no doubt, of lived experience  and creative alignment.

Lockyer has spoken before about his long journey back to the stage, about his battle with mental illness, addiction, and time lost to instability. But this production is not about redemption. It is about honouring the text. In interviews, Lockyer has stressed that Shakespeare comes first, and it shows. There’s no indulgence here, only deep respect for the language, and a mission to make it live for everyone.

And he succeeds. There were moments where I forgot I was watching a one-man show. Moments where lines I thought I knew rang out with such natural clarity I felt like I was hearing them for the first time. One that stuck with me is Claudius’s reflection on Gertrude:
“My virtue or my plague, be it either which,—She’s so conjunctive to my life and soul.”
Delivered almost offhand, it lingered in the air like something too close to real life. That ability to make Shakespeare sound like a passing thought rather than a monologue—that’s skill.

Lockyer also knows exactly when to draw us in. During Hamlet’s moments of deepest despair, he didn’t retreat. Instead he leaned in, physically and emotionally. At times he stood right at the edge of the stage, barely over it, talking to us directly, like we were the only ones who could hear him. The lighting, subtle but clever, worked like an extra character—marking shifts in rhythm, scene, or tone. One especially memorable moment: when Hamlet’s father’s ghost speaks, Lockyer stood in front of the floor lamp, casting a towering shadow on the old music hall wall, eerie and otherworldly. It was simple, effective, unforgettable.

Amid the tragedy, there were moments of unexpected humour, slipped in with finesse. These weren’t jokes, they were wry, human recognitions that made the production feel grounded, relatable.

This wasn’t just a bold experiment—it was a reminder of what theatre can do with very little. A single performer, a small stage, and a 400 year-old script, when handled with honesty and craft, can still make an audience hold its breath. And perhaps most importantly: it’s clear. Lockyer wanted this Hamlet to be accessible to anyone, especially the younger generations, and it is. You don’t need a literature degree to understand it. You just need to be willing to listen. And once you do, it becomes hard to stop.

The Play’s The Thing. A One Person Hamlet plays until April 12th at Wilton’s Music Hall.

REVIEW: Macbeth


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A sharp, fast-paced Macbeth that speaks directly to a new generation


This year’s production of Macbeth forms part of Playing Shakespeare with Deutsche Bank, an educational initiative by Shakespeare’s Globe that has been running for 19 years. This latest adaptation of Macbeth is a fast-paced, 90-minute version, carefully edited to preserve the heart of the story while making it more digestible for those studying it as part of the GCSE curriculum. 

The world of this Macbeth is set in a kind of heightened now and not historical Scotland, a world close enough to our own that teenagers could probably imagine themselves in it. Combat gear, bikes, backpacks. It opens with a patrol of modern-day soldiers sweeping a space, only to be interrupted by three hikers who stumble into danger and are immediately shot. It’s brutal, jarring—and those hikers? They come back as the three sisters, though here they feel more like wandering spirits than witches.

These sisters are a highlight. Dressed in clothes that look like they came straight off the high street, they cartwheel, climb, and flip across the stage like something between ghosts and parkour influencers. Their movement is sharp and unsettling, but also weirdly cool, which is exactly the point. The supernatural here isn’t mystical—it’s disruptive, impossible to ignore, and oddly familiar.

Banquo, too, feels tailored to the audience. He rides on stage with a bike helmet and a laid-back attitude, and after his death, he joins the sisters in their acrobatic world, flipping across the stage like death gave him extra agility.

The whole play runs without an interval, stripped down to the essentials. There is a sense of efficiency, maybe too much at times. A lot of text has been cut, and with that, some of the emotional and psychological complexity goes missing. The characters are played with clarity, but mostly safely.You are  not likely to walk away haunted by their inner turmoil.

That said, there are plenty of fun and clever touches. One of the most memorable scenes is when Macbeth and Lady Macbeth prep for Duncan’s murder. There is an energy to it that feels more like an episode of Dexter than Shakespeare. They even whip out luminol spray to test for blood. It’s dark, but playful.

The newly written porter scene isn’t just a playful break in tone. It is a moment that acknowledges its young audience, speaking directly to them and even making a bit of fun at their world. It goes beyond simply breaking the fourth wall: it challenges, and invites them in. With sharp humour, Jo Servi takes on fast fashion and AI-generated homework, two hot topics for a generation growing up in the middle of climate anxiety and tech overload. 

This isn’t the deepest Macbeth I have ever see, but that is  not its goal. It is a smart gateway production, especially for first-timers or teenagers who might otherwise find Shakespeare intimidating. It doesn’t ask too much, but it might just spark curiosity. And sometimes, that’s the best kind of first impression.

Macbeth runs at the Globe Theatre until the 20th April.

REVIEW: The Winter’s Tale


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Guildhall’s The Winter’s Tale is a creative and engaging take on a tricky play, with strong performances and smart design choices.


There’s a certain ease that comes with walking into Silk Street Theatre, a space that feels open, unpretentious, and focused on the work itself rather than on spectacle. That atmosphere set the tone for an evening that felt more like an exploration than a polished performance, appropriate, really, for a student production where experimentation and bold choices are the point.

Tonally split down the middle, the play begins in the icy grip of jealousy, suspicion, and death, only to later dissolve into pastoral comedy and redemption. It’s a famously difficult balance to strike, and while this production made a sincere effort, the shift from one world to the other remained jarring.

The first half was clearly the stronger of the two, with a mood that stayed tightly focused on the emotional damage caused by Leontes’ spiral into irrational jealousy. The actors brought intensity to the stage: jealousy, fury and grief. The design was subtle but evocative: a transparent screen like a wide window that concealed (or revealed depending on whose point of view we refer to) spaces both literal and psychological—the imagined garden where Leontes visualises betrayal, the ward-like room where his son dies, and a quiet recess where his wife is hidden from the world. These spatial metaphors were thoughtful, functional, and poetic.

But as the production transitioned into the second half, the energy shifted—almost too much. Songs, dancing, softer light, and a buoyant atmosphere made it feel, at times, like a completely different production. It’s a challenge built into the play, but here, the shift felt more like a rupture than a transformation. The introduction of music added charm but also diluted the tension, pushing the piece toward something that teetered on the edge of musical theatre.

There were also some heavy cuts to the text, which, while helping with pacing, did come at the expense of character development. Leontes’ emotional arc in particular suffered—his abrupt transformation from paranoid tyrant to humbled penitent came too quickly, lacking the complexity the first half had carefully built.

Still, there was much to admire. Some of the performances were genuinely moving, with certain actors managing to bring real depth and clarity to their roles. And perhaps most importantly, the company showed a willingness to take risks, to play with tone and texture, and to make strong visual and musical choices. The performance that really stood out for me was Jessica-Jayne Mannion as Paulina. She had this incredible mix of strength and honesty that made every scene she was in feel grounded and real. Whether she was fiercely defending Hermione or holding the room with just a quiet look, she brought such a clear emotional depth to the role. There was nothing forced about it—it all felt natural, and she made Paulina feel like the heart of the story. Definitely my favourite performance of the night.

This wasn’t a flawless production, but it wasn’t trying to be. It was curious, courageous, and full of potential—qualities that make me excited to see where these performers and directors go next. Guildhall has once again proven to be a space where bold theatre begins.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Mark Lockyer


Mark Lockyer stars in The Play’s The Thing. A One Person Hamlet, edited for a single performer and directed by Fiona Laird, at Wilton’s Music Hall Graces Alley, London E1 8JB, 1 April to 12 April. Tickets: http://www.wiltons.org.uk/


Mark Lockyer was a rising star at the RSC, thought by many to be one of the greatest Shakespearean actors of his age, whose theatre credits include major roles in The Alchemist, The Tempest, Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, and The Taming of the Shrew. Then he had a complete mental collapse. He ended up an addict, in prison (where he was finally diagnosed as bipolar), homeless and was rescued by the St Mungo’s charity. He has now started to rebuild his life.


Given your personal battles with mental health, how does it feel to step into the role of Hamlet, a character famously grappling with inner turmoil?

That’s a very good question. The themes in Hamlet of loneliness and madness – whatever one perceives that to be –  it’s a very wide-ranging subject. But it’s a fact that Hamlet talks about grief and loneliness and isolation and being paralysed to make decisions and feeling sad and alone. You don’t have to have experienced mental illness to have experienced some of those themes but I suppose it kind of helps you to understand. But having experienced extremes of mood and highs and lows and the consequences of that in terms of not being able to work and being under the doctor and hospitalised, those experiences give you a kind of base to understand imaginatively what Hamlet is going through. 

First and foremost, the play is so beautifully written. Shakespeare beautifully captures the essence and the reality of all those states, from love to joy to sadness to hate, revenge, madness, he’s the driver and really nothing I can bring can be any better than what Shakespeare wrote. It’s all in the text. And if I trust that first and foremost, something will happen and the mixture of my experience and who I am as a person with all the things that have happened to me – good and bad – will imbue itself into that text. It’s my interpretation, but it’s not me coming to it going oh, because I was ill or mad, however you want to call it, it’s got to be like this. No, Shakespeare’s very specific about what he wants. So I suppose it’s a mixture of my experience, not only personally, but also my experience as an actor –  I’ve been doing it a long time and I’ve done a lot of Shakespeare, I was taught by the best teachers by the best directors, and I suppose it’s all about timing and synchronicity and coming to this with all those experiences. It’s not daunting, at the very least I have something to offer, but it’s the text that comes first. Shakespeare’s text is what is so important. I have to honour that.

Your past struggles with undiagnosed bipolar disorder led to some extreme experiences—how have they shaped your approach to performing Shakespeare now?

Well, I don’t think I could really give you an accurate answer how it’s changed the way that I perform Shakespeare or anything else. My experiences were extreme and the consequences were pretty grim but I think what that process did for me was to develop as a human being. I had to first of all get well and that took a long time. A very, very, very long time… years. I lost 11 years of my career through mental illness. I had to come to terms with serious issues around addiction and get clean. I had to manage my mental health and look at my life in a very different way. Acting was not my primary concern for many years and in essence what I lost, which was very good, was my experiences really humbled me. And I didn’t view my work and my career in the same way that I did. I’d lost everything. I still feel that I’m still catching up. And I’ll never get there. You know, illness robbed me of a huge part of my formative professional life and generations of people you know, changed in my world as I was away and I came back and my brethren and my friends had developed and progressed, and that was great to see, but also difficult because I felt I’d missed the bus. But the difference today is I’ve accepted it, as an actor today I don’t need validation I used to as a younger man. It was everything to me, I needed people to think that I was great and I don’t need that now. 

I was asked recently  why am I taking a gamble in doing this? A gamble for what? I’ve nothing to lose because I’ve lost it anyway. If people come to Hamlet and they think it’s crap and they don’t like me, well, I’m not saying that won’t hurt, but the sun will still shine. I still have to buy the shopping. And you know. Nobody other than a small group of people will know about this Hamlet anyway. I don’t walk into this thinking that it’s going to change anybody’s life. It’s a play. It’s a piece of entertainment.

The places, situations that I’ve been in, being a good actor wasn’t going to help me. No way. You come back from that with a very realistic, honest, kinder more compassionate view first of all of myself and my failings and of other people. There’s a lot about the acting world, which just doesn’t interest me because I don’t need to be in that kind of circus. My talent wasn’t diminished at all but my attitude changed and it will be what it will be and I have nothing to lose.

What was it like collaborating with Fiona Laird again, years after your marriage ended due to your mental health struggles?

It was a joy. We hadn’t seen each other for a very long time, maybe four years. She came with her new husband, George, to see me in a little fringe show that I was experimenting with. Funnily enough, where I was playing all the parts. In this case, it was just two, a man and a wife. Not that I had set out to do that. It was during Covid and the actress. Well we couldn’t rehearse. Anyway, the point is she came and she saw the show and she really loved it and she came to me with the idea. When Fiona rang me a week later and said I’ve got this idea about Hamlet, how do you feel? I thought I thought it was mad. I just thought it was preposterous to be honest, I thought, are you mental? And she asked me to come to her house to read the play and record it for her as a favour.  I sat down. I read it. She recorded it. And about a month later she presented me with a very rough cut. To be fair, as I was reading the whole play, the whole 4 and a half hour play, can you imagine?

We then began the journey of collaborating, cutting it down to 90 minutes. On a personal level. I have always had the greatest of respect for Fiona as a very fine director. We’ve since become very good friends and you have to ask yourself. What do you want from life? For me. I’d like some peace in my life with no conflict if I can possibly help it. Sometimes that’s not possible, but with people it can be. What is the point in holding on to resentment or pain in the past if you can change it? Sometimes that is impossible, and with Fiona it was very possible and we of course, talked early on and worked through some things that had happened.

The great thing, perhaps, above all else, is that through this we have healed a relationship. I get on very well with Fiona. I get on very well with her husband. Surely that is the essence of life, isn’t it? Some peace, compassion. Why not? My experience is you sleep better. You know? But then again, I’ve learnt to be very forgiving of things in my life, because I had to forgive myself. The wonderful thing about life I’ve realised is that people are very forgiving if you’re honest and you meet them half way.

Rufus Norris described The Play’s The Thing as “extraordinary” – what makes this version of Hamlet unique from other productions?

To be standing alone on a stage telling this story with 21 other characters other than Hamlet going through one person in real time is in itself, you could say quite a feat, quite an event in itself. Fascinating not only to do, but I hope to watch, but also it’s in keeping with the play of Hamlet. Hamlet is an isolated character. His only real friend other than Horatio, who he doesn’t say everything to is the audience.

Through this play, about a man who is isolated, with no props, in a single space, in real time, it is wonderfully theatrical, compelling and unique. That doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to work. It has taken three years of work to come to this stage. But it doesn’t mean that it’s any better than anybody else’s production of Hamlet. It’s just different.  Nothing has been compromised. No story has been cut, no character has been cut. It is purely Shakespeare’s story. It’s come down to a 90 minute show, all the extraneous flab and fat on the play has been removed. What’s left is this fantastic thriller narrative that is absolutely crystal clear. There was an imaginary post-it note on the editing computer which said ‘Will a 16-year-old kid who’s never seen Shakespeare before really understand this?’ And I was meticulous in challenging Fiona. What I am most proud of is that it is thrillingly clear. If you have never seen a Shakespeare play in your life you will understand it. There are no scene changes, I’m asking the audience to use their imagination. But it’s very nice that somebody would say that it’s extraordinary.

Your one-man show Living With the Lights On was deeply personal – does Hamlet feel just as autobiographical in some ways?

No, not really. In Living With the Lights On, you witnessed a career, my career, my Shakespeare career anyway, ruined, destroyed by mental illness. And along with that, hope and possibilities and everything else. I don’t feel coming back to Hamlet is in any way autobiographical at all, but the experience of performing Living With the Lights On was getting good at being a solo performer, I toured it here and abroad for the best part of 3 1/2 years and I got good at it. I got good at being a good storyteller. So coming to a solo Hamlet, it’s not your acting that is the first and foremost thing you need, you need to understand what telling a story to an audience is about. Two years went into developing the text so what’s wonderful about coming to Hamlet now is that it seems a natural progression from Living With the Lights On, my second show, Keep on Walking, Federick, and my third show, Take Off Your Cornflakes

Now I am attempting to use my skills, as a Shakespeare performer, having been taught at the Royal Shakespeare Company over many, many years by the greatest teachers. It seems just the right time and I hold on to the fact that this wasn’t my idea. I didn’t wake up one morning and go. Oh, wow. I want to play Hamlet. It came to me, and like most things in life, the best things just come. And so here we are. This coming together of so many strands is terrific but autobiographical? No, not at all.

What message do you hope audiences take away from seeing The Play’s The Thing, both as a piece of theatre and as a reflection of mental health struggles?

Shakespeare is something that I was always passionate about from when I was a kid at school. All I ever really wanted to do when I became an actor was to speak Shakespeare. I found Shakespeare fantastic, it was like a puzzle, you know, suddenly working out, oh my gosh, that’s what that means. And then I went to the Royal Shakespeare Company and watched other people be really brilliant at it. Adrian Noble said something to us as a company, which I’ll never forget, ‘You know, you have a duty as a performer to make young people want to come back and see another Shakespeare’. And that stayed with me because I got this bee in my bonnet that it’s so important with Shakespeare that people can understand it. And I think that the way that I have seen Shakespeare performed at times has been pretty shoddy because they don’t trust the text. 

When Shakespeare’s actors got up at The Globe or wherever they did performed in 1575, or whenever it was, they had no set and most people couldn’t read. It was the word that was the most important thing. It was the spoken word. The hearing word. Audience – ‘audio’ to hear. Shakespeare’s audience were naturally attuned differently to modern day audiences. The spoken word was everything. 

I’ve been living with this text for nearly 3 1/2 years now. And if you just honour it, it will work. But I see that people just don’t know the how to do that or they don’t have trust and well, I hope that people get from coming to see our Hamlet is that the simplicity and beauty of this language is everything and that you can understand Shakespeare. It’s not an elitist thing. It’s perhaps been made elitist and I have no idea why. If you walk into Waterstone’s, you’ll see a whole wall full of books with academics talking bollocks about Shakespeare. It’s not to be studied, it’s to be spoken. And if somebody walks away going wow, I really enjoyed that. I really understood it, wow, what a play, then that’s really important. 

Young people were absolutely at the centre of my mind because that was how I was encouraged when I was a younger actor and that’s what I feel now as an actor and producer that, you know, if you’re going to do a Shakespeare, people have got to understand it. Fuck the set, fuck the costumes. Just do it. But people don’t know how. It’s a dying art, and I was blessed at the beginning of my career to see some wonderful, wonderful classical actors. Today a lot of it is just poorly spoken. So hopefully people will walk away and go I really enjoyed that and enjoy seeing the form. The only thing that’s going to hold an audience is not my acting it’s the narrative. And this is absolutely crystal clear. 

From a mental health perspective, what a journey I’ve been on. I was so ill I couldn’t even wash, couldn’t make a cup of tea. I was incapable of looking after myself. I’ve been in prison. I’ve had years of being in mental institutions. I’ve lived within the homeless sector at St Mungo’s for 4 1/2 years. They were instrumental in me getting back on my feet. If anyone with a mental health problem comes to see this and goes, My God. If he can do it, I can do it…

From a mental health perspective, people get better. It’s not a life sentence. People get better. Not everybody’s running around murdering people. The media has so much to answer for the way that mental health is portrayed and the stigma still around it. I’ve paid my dues. And I’m standing up there proud as punch, doing my stuff. And if nobody likes it, fine. I’ve got no control over anything. I have no idea what message people will take from it really, but I have hopes, which I’ve just shared. We get better. Thank you.

REVIEW: Henry VIII


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A stunning fresh take on a classic play.”


Adapted by Hannah Khalil and originally played at the Globe in 2022, Shakespeare’s work comes to the Guildhall school, with professionals and students bring this piece to life. In this adaption, the play focuses on the female characters of Henry’s life-his current wife Catherine of Aragon, his love interest Anne Boleyn and Mary-Henry and Catherine’s child.

With sonnets taken from Shakespeare’s other works, Khalil is giving the women a voice
which is missing in the original and presenting them in a new light.
The play follows Henry’s marriage to Catherine and his attempts to divorce her and marry Anne Boleyn, much to the dismay of Wolsey who is trying to orchestrate another
arrangement. The ending did feel a little disconnected and I didn’t quite understand it. I’m not sure if it was in the original play or part of the adaptation but to jump from Elizabeth being a baby to her being queen, I didn’t quite see what it brought to the piece other than reaffirming that it was part of history.

Both the director and designer, along with the lighting and sound designer (both of whom are final year students) bring the court of Henry to life in stunning period costumes. However, Elizabeth’s costume for the finale felt a little flat and almost out of place compared to the details that went into the rest of the costume. The lighting really added to the visuals and was both intense and beautiful. The use of spotlights allows the student performers to portray their characters inner thoughts and at times, feels like the fourth wall is being broken. The visuals are immaculate, the backdrop being two red curtains, one textured to give depth and perception with props such as chandeliers add to the grandeur of Henry’s court. It was a little off putting that the stage was entirely open and you could see the performers and stagehands off stage. Similarly, the sound design was really good and with the choreography of period dancing added more life to the play.

This piece is visually stunning and flawless. Some of the acting was hit and miss, but those who were good were really good and a talented group of students. In this adaptation, I personally, didn’t think that Mary added anything. I do understand that Khalil wanted to give her more of a presence as her character lacked in the original. However, the other characters didn’t really interact with her when she was on stage, apart from Catherine later in the play and throughout it felt like she was more a spirit rather than an actual active character but I do applaud Khalil for making Mary’s presence and importance in Henry’s life more prominent and trying to build a character from very little.

Some of the symbolism was a little lost on me. The characters in red seemed to be
representing different things to different characters and there was no distinction between what it was that they were representing. I think the play being in the original dialect didn’t help with understanding what was happening.
Overall, this piece is just beautiful with wonderful costumes and performed by some
talented students.

REVIEW: Othello


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A Bold Take on Shakespeare’s Tragedy Through the Lens of PTSD


Walking into the Network Theatre, tucked away beneath Waterloo station, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this new take on Othello. But as the first tense moments unfolded, it became clear that Gavin McAlinden and the Acting Gymnasium company were out to do more than just retell Shakespeare’s classic tragedy—they wanted to dig into it and see what else might be lurking beneath the surface.

Most productions of Othello lean heavily into themes of racial discrimination, and while that’s undeniably a core part of the original text, this performance took approach. Instead of focusing on Othello as an outsider due to his race, it explored the idea that his jealousy and eventual descent into violence were manifestations of PTSD—the lingering trauma from his time on the battlefield. It’s an interesting approach, one that shifts the focus from societal prejudice to the personal, psychological toll of war.

But does it work? Honestly, I’m a bit torn. On one hand, it adds a new layer to Othello’s character, turning him into more of a tragic victim of his own mind than purely of Iago’s manipulation. On the other hand, this interpretation seemed to weaken Othello’s image—he felt less like the commanding, noble general brought low by jealousy and more like a man already fractured, with Iago just giving him a little push. It’s a compelling concept, but I’m not sure it fully explains the sheer intensity of his actions, especially the murder of Desdemona.

The PTSD angle wasn’t limited to Othello either. Cassio, for example, played with infectious energy by Lavan Jeyarupalingam, was portrayed as hyper and almost too jovial, which could be interpreted as his own coping mechanism—an attempt to mask the trauma he’s carried back from the war. PTSD doesn’t manifest the same way for everyone; while some become withdrawn and irritable, others might overcompensate with excessive cheerfulness or reckless behaviour. 

If Othello and Cassio are wrestling with their demons, Iago stands out as the cold, calculated manipulator who knows exactly how to exploit their weaknesses. Michael Claff as Iago was brilliant—chillingly convincing, with a charisma that made his evil even more unsettling. You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he pulled the strings, using Othello’s instability and Cassio’s carefree nature to weave his web of deceit. This Iago wasn’t just a bitter underling; he was a master psychologist, preying on the vulnerabilities of those around him.

Desdemona was also perfectly cast, bringing a mix of innocence and quiet strength to the role. She felt genuine and relatable. Her chemistry with Othello was palpable, which made the collapse of their relationship even harder to watch.

If I had one critique about the performances, it would be the almost uncontrolled volume. Some of the cast leaned heavily into the Shakespearean rage, and while the intensity was appreciated, there were moments when it became so loud it was hard to follow the lines. Shakespeare’s language is rich and nuanced, and when it’s delivered at full blast, some of that can get lost.

The set was stripped down to the essentials, with almost no props or elaborate scenery. At first, I wondered if this would make the performance feel sparse, but it actually had the opposite effect. The physical violence in the play became a kind of prop in itself—every slap, shove, and strangulation felt stark and unflinching in the absence of distractions. 

The Network Theatre is the kind of venue that feels perfect for a production like this. It’s intimate and a bit rough around the edges, which adds to the atmosphere. You’re close enough to the actors to see every emotion on their faces, making the experience feel personal and immediate. It’s clear that this was a production put together with a real passion for the text and a desire to explore new angles.

REVIEW: The Merchant of Venice 1936


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A sense of urgency and resonance


I must confess that, having studied Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice at secondary school, I was left with precious little impression of the play in the intervening years, aside from some quotations which refuse to leave my brain. I’m glad to say that this particular interpretation of the play, ‘The Merchant of Venice 1936’, has changed this entirely. The touring show, direct from the RSC and the West End, is adapted by Brigid Larmour and Tracy-Ann Oberman (who also stars as the first female Shylock).

While the play’s trimmings – the largely bleak and drab set, with its recurring backdrop of London’s East End becoming evermore squalid throughout, and its strategic set pieces which communicate a world in very little – candles to signify Judaism, for example – are perfectly serviceable, the strength of this show is its writing and its actors.The remarkable cast succeeds in garnering more audience attention as the play goes on, not falling prey to that mid-Act 2 slump that can be so common – you could have heard a pin drop as Shylock advanced on Antonio with knife in hand. Amongst this excellent group, it’s the women that stand out the most: Evie Hargreaves’ maid Mary is by turn comedic and astonishingly cruel, Georgie Fellows’ is Portia a picture of calculated insouciance with powerful emotions tangibly simmering just below the surface, and Tracy-Ann Oberman as Shylock is the jewel of the play: she portrays a complexity of character that’s impossible to untangle, leaving the audience agonising over her steadfast focus on what is just, to the detriment of all else.

Setting the play in 1930s England, amidst the rise of Oswald Mosley’s Blackshirts, lends its themes of prejudice and the brutality of our fellow man a sense of urgency and resonance that can be felt as lacking in the 16th century original, which allows for a sense removal by way of hundreds of years. Discrimination, bigotry, antisemitism and violence were enacted so casually and so viscerally onstage that I felt uncomfortable. This play is quick to show that while you may laugh at someone’s antics one moment, they could be spitting on their neighbour the next – or, to paraphrase Shakespeare in another capacity, that one may smile and smile, and be a villain.

At the top of the show, the cast enters from the side of the auditorium, distributing wine amongst the audience as they celebrate Shabbat. The actors come and go via the crowd throughout – just before the end of the play Shylock wanders amid the auditorium’s front rows, looking entirely lost. This sense of connection between actors and audience further enables us to identify with the themes of this show and immerse us in the discomfort they arouse, and means that the show’s rather heartwarming ending – while abrupt, and arguably a bit misaligned with the tension of the rest of the play – very much has the desired effect of reminding us that, as Tracy-Ann (as herself) says, “we are stronger together”.

‘The Merchant of Venice 1936’ is showing at the Liverpool Playhouse until February 8th.

REVIEW: A Midsummer Night’s Dream


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“So spellbinding, you’ll wish you could unsee it just to experience the Dream all over again.”


You know that feeling when you wake up from a dream so beautifully mad, that you desperately want to dive back in? That’s exactly how I felt leaving A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Barbican. If I could, I would wipe my memory clean just to watch it again for the first time. Eleonor Rhode’s production isn’t just Shakespeare done well—it’s Shakespeare that grabs you by the hand and pulls you into a technicolour, hedonistic and funny fever dream, leaving you blinking in amazement as the lights come up.

Eleanor Rhode, alongside Lucy Osborne, the brilliant set and costume designer, has reimagined Shakespeare’s characters with striking originality. Each archetype is reinvented through clever nods to British fashion and music, creating a world where timeless personalities meet modern flair. Rhode has created a world where Titania (played with ethereal grace by Sirine Saba) feels like Kate Bush reincarnate, gliding and twirling like she stepped straight out of the Wuthering Heights music video. Oberon, brought to life by the charismatic Andrew Richardson, is a swaggering, magnetic presence, channelling a full-on Adam and the Ants vibe. His declaration, “I am invisible!” while standing there in his flamboyant glory, is a moment of comedy perfection. Matthew Bayton’s Bottom looks like he rolled straight out of Carnaby Street in the ’60s suit and orange socks. Hermia’s punky look would get Vivienne Westwood’s approval. Lysander has the vibe of a Madness groupie, Demetrius screams “Roxy Music fan,”, Helena is a New Romantic and Puck—oh, Puck, so fabulously played by Katherine Pearce —is pure Camden cool.

The four Athenian lovers—Lysander (Ryan Hutton), Demetrius (Nicholas Armfield), Hermia (Dawn Sievewright), and Helena (Boadicea Ricketts)—are equally convincing and fascinating to watch.  Their fights in the forest are wild and electric, blurring the line between slapstick hilarity and raw, physical passion. The physical comedy is razor-sharp, with bodies colliding, grappling, and flailing in perfect sync. Their chemistry is palpable, amplifying both the comedy and the chaos of their entangled affections.

The Mechanicals are a comedic triumph, bringing hilarity and charm to every scene. Rita Quince (Helen Monks), reimagined as a rapping director, infuses the troupe with wit and swagger, while Matthew Bayton’s Pryamus steals the show with his brilliant, over-the-top antics. Their chaotic Pyramus and Thisbe, featuring a hilariously awkward “Wall” with literal cracks, is pure theatrical mayhem. This blend of earnestness and absurdity makes the Mechanicals a joyous highlight, capturing Shakespeare’s playful satire of amateur theatre.

The set and lighting design elevate this production to a visual masterpiece. Titania’s woodland realm, adorned with soft, feminine touches and paper lanterns subtly illuminated with psychedelic lighting, is breathtakingly beautiful. In contrast, Oberon’s domain is stark and angular, featuring ladders and hard lines that exude power and masculinity. This clever design juxtaposition reinforces the characters’ distinct personalities and the tension between their realms.

The illusions, directed and designed by John Bulleid, are another triumph, seamlessly integrating magic into the storytelling. Actors seem to disappear and reappear on the stage as by magic. Fairies are but flickering fireflies that one can catch and set free, making the audience feel like they’re part of the same magical world as the characters. It’s the kind of theatrical sorcery that serves the text so well.

This Midsummer Night’s Dream is everything you could hope for and more—a dazzling spectacle that’s funny, sexy, and endlessly inventive. It tickles the senses, warms the heart, and leaves you stumbling out of the theatre wondering if you’re still dreaming. Whatever you do this Christmas holiday, don’t miss it.

Running at the Barbican Centre until 18th Jan 2025

REVIEW: Macbeth


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“A lively and imaginative Macbeth where tragedy meets humour in unexpected ways.”


Attending Macbeth by Shakespeare in the Squares at the Actors’ Church felt like stepping into a reimagined world where tragedy meets humour head-on. Known for their vibrant summer outdoor productions, this was my first experience of their winter season, and I was intrigued by the concept of a scaled-back, touring production of Macbeth. Director Sioned Jones’s vision promised an unconventional approach, and the result was certainly thought-provoking, if not always cohesive.

From the outset, it was clear that this Macbeth wasn’t going to be conventional. The tone leaned heavily into humour, which is a tricky balance in a tragedy. I found myself thinking of the Coen Brothers’ O Brother, Where Art Thou? (with their comic reimagining of Odysseus) as there were moments when I half-expected Macbeth to turn and say, “I’m a Dapper Dan man!” This playful tone gave the production a fresh energy, but it also made the transition to the darker, weightier parts feel abrupt and unbalanced.

The witches were a perfect example of this playful reinterpretation. Reimagined as flirtatious old spinsters, they felt more like gossiping neighbours than sinister figures of fate. Their fortune-telling, done through cards and tea leaves, added an earthy, mundane quality that was amusing but lacked menace. Molly Walker, one of the witches, brought a clever moment of humour when she transitioned into another role, quickly hiding her headscarf as if revealing the witches’ secret

Lady Macbeth, played by Cathy Walker, was another standout, though her approach was more frantic than commanding. She seemed almost like she was micromanaging the play at times, her energy frenzied as she pushed Macbeth forward. I did appreciate the early scenes between her and Macbeth, where their relationship felt genuine and touching, but as the play progressed, her descent into madness felt exaggerated and less impactful.

Gavin Molloy’s Macbeth had moments of charm, particularly in the earlier scenes. While he clearly worked to make Macbeth relatable, I missed the layers of complexity and inner turmoil that make the character so compelling. 

Mohab Kaddah brought a spirited energy to his roles, particularly shining in the comedic moments, though his more serious scenes lacked the gravitas needed to fully land their emotional weight.

For me, the evening’s highlights came from the multirole performances. Molly Walker was exceptional, jumping seamlessly between characters and injecting life into every role she took on. Her Porter scene was especially brilliant, with a mix of knock-knock jokes. Sam D’Leon also impressed, particularly as the First Murderer, where he relished the role’s bloodthirsty nature. Both actors showcased incredible versatility, and their energy kept the production moving. 

The use of the audience as part of the play added a unique touch. We were high-fived, spoken to directly, encouraged to clap, and even asked to repeat lines. It was entertaining but it felt more like a pantomime than Shakespeare.

The biggest challenge for me was the tonal shift between the comedy and the serious moments. The soliloquies, particularly, struggled to find their place in the production’s lighter tone. Macbeth’s final soliloquy, after Lady Macbeth’s death— “It is a tale told by an idiot”—stood out as an exception. Here, the word “idiot” resonated in the context of the play’s comedic elements, almost reframing Macbeth as a tragic fool in a way that felt oddly fitting.

Overall, Shakespeare in the Squares’ Macbeth was an ambitious project that delivered clever moments and lively performances, even if it didn’t fully balance its bold tonal choices. It’s a Macbeth that isn’t afraid to take risks, and while not every gamble paid off, it offered a fresh take on a classic tale. For those looking for something different, this production certainly delivers plenty to talk about.