Tag: spoken word

REVIEW: Burnout: A Verbatim Play

Published on by nmcgarrityLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A highly emotive and educational piece of theatre vital for the modern world.

From the premise alone, Burnout: A Verbatim Play promised to be fascinating. Composed of dialogue entirely from twenty-seven interviews conducted by writer Ellen Bradbury, Burnout revolves around experiences of (you guessed it) burnout, and the pervasiveness of this feeling throughout society. Four incredible actors – Ellinor Larsson, Ewan Little, Pablo López Sánchez-Matas, and Evie Mortimer – took to the stage to relay Bradbury’s findings on burnout to a wider audience. Over the course of an hour, the play explores burnout across a myriad of areas, such as education, healthcare, and activism. 

The stories told – despite the characters’ insistence – could belong to anyone. This is both a strength and slight weakness of the show. While it ensures the audience can resonate deeply with the narratives they hear, I found it hard to connect to the characters themselves. With twenty-seven different voices, the actors felt more like conduits for the stories, rather than characters. This isn’t a comment on the acting, which was superb. Rather, I felt the set-up – where each actor portrayed multiple interviewees – limited the depth of the individuals behind the stories. It was difficult to feel attached despite the actors’ commendable performances. However, this is a very small issue I had and didn’t detract much from what was overall a highly moving show.

Occasionally half-hidden in deep shadows, occasionally exposed with a flood of light, each actor brought a compelling mix of humour and vulnerability to every story they told. There was not a moment where the actors didn’t have the entire audience’s attention. From the heartfelt to the hilarious to the hopeful, each one gave a believable, beautiful performance.

The writing, by Bradbury, and the directing by Emma Ruse together painted a strong image. Chairs onstage highlighted the growing clutter of a mind in burnout; the stutters included in Bradbury’s script kept the stories true to life and a showcase of the difficulties in talking about such a personal issue. Also highly notable are the uses of lighting (Tom Showell) and sound (Maia Imogen Harding), which further create tension.

While I felt the structure of the play and its contents were sometimes very safe, that does not stop it from being a fantastic performance. At only an hour long, the content covered is incredibly impressive. What starts as individual stories ends with the actors talking not only to the audience, but to each other. It emphasises the play’s message: during burnout, despite what you may feel, you are not the only one experiencing this. Burnout, Bradbury tells us, is a symptom of the system we live in – but we don’t have to deal with it alone. 

This show’s run is now concluded and ran from 6th February 2026 until 7th February 2026 at the Tron Theatre in Glasgow.

To Kill A Mockingbird by Lee, , Writer - Harper Lee, Adapter/Playwright – Aaron Sorkin, Director – Bartlett Sher, Associate Director – Louisa Muller, Set Designer – Miriam Buether, Design Supervisor – Ed Pierce, Costume Designer – Ann Roth, Lighting Designer – Jennifer Tipton, Sound Designer – Scott Lehrer, Composer (Original Score) – Adam Guettel, Musical Supervisor – Kimberley Grigsby, Casting Director – Serena Hill CDG, Hair and Wigs Designer – Campbell Young Associates, Resident Director – Laurence Belcher, Cultural Coordinator – Tavia Jefferson, (UK & Ireland tour, opening at Leeds Playhouse, 2025) Atticus Finch – Richard Coyle, Scout Finch – Anna Munden, Jem Finch – Gabriel Scott, Dill Harris – Dylan Malyn, Calpurnia – Andrea Davy, Judge Taylor – Stephen Boxer, Tom Robinson – Aaron Shosanya, Bob Ewell – Oscar Pearce, Mayella Ewell – Evie Hargreaves, Horace Gilmer – Richard Dempsey, Mrs Dubose – Sarah Finigan, Miss Stephanie / Dill’s Mother – Phillipa Flynn, Mr Cunningham / Boo Radley – Harry Attwell, Sheriff Heck Tate – Colin R Campbell, Link Deas – Simon Hepworth, Ensemble – Paul Albertson, Ensemble – James Mitchell, Ensemble – Jonathan Rubin, Ensemble – Cheryl Burniston, Ensemble – Charlotte Luxford, Ensemble – Oyin Orija, Ensemble – Tiwai Muza, Ensemble – Tom Brace-Jenkins, Ensemble – John J. O’Hagan

REVIEW: To Kill a Mockingbird

Published on by justinemsjonesLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Messy and peaceful, as life has always been – but rarely shown so expertly on stage.”

Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, directed by Aaron Sorkin, has landed in The Lowry. The Pulitzer Prize winning novel many UK school children have and continue to study has been expertly adapted for the stage. Sorkin’s interpretation promises to offer a new perspective into the famed story, and expectations were surely met.

Set in the fictional town of Maycomb, Alabama, in the 1930s, To Kill a Mockingbird explores racial inequality in the Deep South. Through a rape case against cotton farmer Tom Robinson, the audience bears witness to the struggle and challenges of post-Civil War Southern USA. With many pockets of Maycomb’s community to explore, all of the characters come together to paint a picture of a society wrestling with difficult moral questions.

Traditionally told through the eyes of children, Sorkin’s representation of the novel shifts more focus to lawyer and father, and now protagonist Atticus Finch. This Atticus has a deeper level of conflict, allowing him to feel more relatable as he grows on stage and becomes authentically human, rather than the unwavering beacon of integrity many readers remember. Using the children as narrators alongside the unfolding of events, rather than adults recounting the story, shifts the perspective from the children being observers to being actively involved, adding further depth to the piece. Fans of the novel need not worry – the story feels enriched rather than diminished by this interpretation.

Sorkin’s script invites audiences to sit in discomfort. The brutal use of language, the exposure of extremist groups, and the disgust of this fictional yet uncomfortably recognisable humanity are juxtaposed against the morality of the few, the gentle teachings of acceptance, and the importance of reflection. It is messy and peaceful, as life has always been, but rarely demonstrated so expertly on stage.

Much of this success is down to the incredible talent across the cast. John J. O’Hagan’s Atticus is a pleasure to witness, effortlessly carrying the weight of such a well-loved character while allowing us to see his growth in this new light. Andrea Davy’s Calpurnia is a delight. With so much of her emotion conveyed without words for much of the play, her ability to create tension is remarkable. Anna Munden’s Scout, Gabriel Scott’s Jem and Dylan Malyn’s Dill all bring the vibrancy hoped for in these characters, often providing gentle comedic relief while also conveying the story’s heavier emotions. Other standout performances include James Mitchell’s Link Deas, whose key scene lingers long after the curtain falls, and Evie Hargreaves’s Mayella Ewell, whose time on the stand is a masterclass in unsettlement.

Miriam Buether’s set allows the stage to be transformed in a clever yet immersive way. Seeing principal actors involved in the transition of scenes subtly reinforces the theme of equality in a quietly effective manner. Ann Roth’s costumes further ground the audience in the period, reminding us of the narrators’ youth even as the maturity of the story remains unquestionable.

To Kill a Mockingbird has rightly earned its accolades over the last 66 years. Sorkin’s interpretation is a joy to witness, from the incisive writing to the remarkable performances, and it is well worth revisiting – or being introduced to – this powerful story. To Kill a Mockingbird runs at The Lowry until 24th January, tickets are available here.

Image Credit: Murdo MacLeod

REVIEW: Pieces of Work

Published on by Maria Mădălina IfrimLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

“Poetic, fragmented, haunting”

Great piece of storytelling – Pieces of Work is an ambitious and emotionally resonant hour of theatre that finds James suspended in the liminal space between youth and old age, birth and death. As he sets out to create a new show, he simultaneously searches for the meaning of home, armed with little more than words, handmade maps, and Shakespeare’s Hamlet. What unfolds is a poignant meditation on memory, identity, and the fragile geography of belonging.

James paints a picture of the country in its full emotional range – its beauty, its pain, and its quiet kindness. The result is moving, often profoundly so, but also elusive. The piece wrestles with topics like suicide and death, rendering family members who feel smaller than the shadows they leave behind. These weighty themes are powerful, yet sometimes feel hard to grasp fully, as if the show deliberately resists emotional closure or cognitive clarity.

The use of Hamlet as a narrative scaffold is inspired. The chosen fragments from Shakespeare’s text add depth and resonance, providing echoes that enrich rather than overshadow the original material. The parallels are subtle yet effective, and help elevate the work from personal meditation to something closer to cultural reckoning.

Staged within a stark black box setting, the minimalism intensifies the introspection, allowing words and silences to take centre stage. However, the show does suffer from a lack of narrative focus. It often meanders, with certain detours that distract more than they deepen the experience. These moments dilute the emotional throughline, making the performance feel at times more like a series of evocative fragments than a cohesive journey.

By the end, one is left with a swirl of images and emotions, but also a yearning for a firmer conclusion – something to hold onto. Pieces of Work is an experience that lingers, but it also asks a lot from its audience in terms of patience and interpretation.

In sum, this is a bold and intimate theatrical work that shines in its poetic ambition and raw vulnerability, but might have benefited from a tighter structure and clearer resolution.

REVIEW: Acolyte at the Soundhouse Winter Festival

Published on by Alli CaineLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Spell-binding. Loops that shouldn’t end” 

If artist Sade decided to poetically narrate a slightly surreal dream about how you felt as a teenager, the ensemble Acolyte comes very close to realizing that dream. It is about “feeling a little weird” Iona Lee, award winning poet and spoken word artist confesses into the dark theater. A part of the new Soundhouse Winter Festival in Edinburgh, this spoken-word, psychedelic ensemble delivers its last performance of the year and, for an hour, inner turmoil is given a hypnotic groove. 

Bassist Ruairidh Morrison, crouched over a spread of effects pedals, deftly builds a live bass loop. Layers are added. Gloria Black as a vocal shadow to Ionas lead, fills the compositions with merging harmonies and warm galactic synth drones. Suggestions of natural elements such as breathing, heartbeats, whistles and wind sounds are heard. Percussionist Daniel Hill is most expressive yet contained and marks out sections by switching between sticks, rods and mallets for different textural variations on his drum set, the eerie cymbal scratches being a favorite. Iona, our lone narrator, is a bewitching raconteur, her presence and delivery smooth and darkly compelling. She possesses the power of capturing and releasing tension effortlessly with contrasts of sharp image descriptions falling into surrealist storytelling. She deliberates mortality, want of attention, hangovers, self awareness, longing…spiders.  These subjects may stem from feeling a bit weird but their attack is never heavy or foreboding and Iona moves through them like a vaguely bossa nova spell-wielder and is seeming pleased to catch the audience off guard with moments of unexpected dry humor or searing description.

Over all, it is refreshingly genre-bending, this perhaps coming from its psychedelic feel. The soundscapes created were transportive, suspending and demanded a certain relaxation—the grooviest meditation session. Looping cyclical melodies and rhythms have existed as far back as human musicology can reach and the response to it is deeply innate, this becoming more and more prominent the longer you are exposed to it. The spectrum of music and poetry is greatly enriched when mixed and stretched with experimentation and what Acolyte has done is prove how effective this can be. They have created their own gorgeous little world of it. 

Acolyte is stunning and it is always impressive when an ensemble is so tight that it translates into the effect of being a bit out of body. With the promise of an EP coming out next year, what a treat we are in for from this hypnotic ensemble. 

REVIEW: The Annual Charles Simonyi Lecture

Published on by audreyay23Leave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Anil Seth takes us on a journey to understand what it means to be alive… scientifically

In the well-regarded Charles Simonyi Lecture of 2024, Anil Seth, Professor of Cognitive and Computational Neuroscience in the University of Sussex, guides a theater packed full of enthusiasts to recognise what consciousness is in humans and its implications in various fields, namely the emergence of artificial intelligence (AI). 

To start, Anil explored the concept of the brain as a prediction machine, emphasising that our perception is actually used as inference for the brain to perceive our surroundings. He challenged the audience to think of themselves as a brain in a meat bag with no light – we do not actually know for sure that we see is what is real. This is the basis of optical illusions, which he deftly displayed to prove that indeed, humans are highly suggestible and are not always right.

Anil then touches upon the scientific definition of consciousness – it enhances the ability of the brain to predict situations by modeling the environment and the self. He speaks in detail about two separate dimensions of consciousness, explaining how research of such can lead to in-depth understanding of psychiatric disorders and even our very selves. 

After providing a comprehensive review of what consciousness is, Anil then briefly addresses consciousness in other things. He exhibits a strong belief that consciousness is more related to life than intelligence. Whilst many theories surround the concept of whether AI can lead to real consciousness, it is highly unlikely to happen. He further presents the controversies for building sentient AI, such as the possibility of artificial suffering, and the human reactions to such suffering – if AI does become conscious, will we start caring for them the same level we do with humans, or will we treat them as mere tools?  

To end the lecture, he highlighted the fact that the understanding of what consciousness is extremely important as it flows into different disciplines, ranging from wellbeing to law and ethics, and to medicine and technology. This therefore serves as a valuable concept, enabling us to truly make the right decisions for ourselves and the society we live in.

I will be honest and admit philosophy has never been a strong suit of mine, and so I struggled slightly with fully grasping the concepts shown. However, I highly appreciated the different situational and visual examples as they provided a simple, yet impressionable understanding throughout the lecture. There were bits and pieces that stood out to me, including the part where he stated that emotions are reactions to physiological changes to external stimuli. Personally, it added a layer of complexity to what consciousness really is.

Overall, it was a great 60 minutes spent, and I will be spending my next few days consciously reading Anil’s newly published book, Being You: A New Science of Consciousness.

REVIEW: Soliloquio (I woke up and hit my head against the wall)

Published on by Antonia ConstantinLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A raw confrontation with identity and power, Soliloquio blurs the line between art and protest, forcing the audience to grapple with the commodification of culture and the unresolved scars of colonialism.”

Is it possible to find a place for true artistic expression in a world dominated by economic interests and systemic power imbalances? Soliloquio by Tiziano Cruz does more than pose this question—it invites us to sit in the tension between personal suffering and the structures that profit from it in a provocative anti-art project. Tiziano Cruz demands we confront an uncomfortable truth: how modern society insists on consuming Indigenous identities as “regional,” “national,” or “exotic” commodities, rather than as authentic human experiences. Cruz, who comes from the Indigenous-rich region of Jujuy in Argentina, takes the stage in Soliloquio not to entertain but to disrupt. Drawing from letters he wrote to his mother during the pandemic, his monologue is a vivid rejection of the forces that demand he package his heritage for mass appeal.

Soliloquio opens with an outdoor procession, that prepares the audience to confront the very constructs they unknowingly uphold. Wearing just white pants and draped in an Inca Quipus shoulder piece—a symbol rich with Andean cultural memory—Cruz leads a procession alongside Salay Pasion, a Bolivian dance group He invites the audience to clap along, blending them into the performance as participants, unsuspectingly complicit in the system they are about to critique.

What starts as a celebration of culture, begins to shift when Cruz’s voice, amplified by a megaphone, cuts through the rhythm with statements of alienation and indignation.  This is not just a performance; it’s a visceral protest against the systems that, as Cruz suggests, lure in marginalized identities only to erase or commodify them. By starting outdoors, Cruz forces the audience into the public space of protest, dissolving the boundary between performer and observer, and challenging the traditional notion of spectatorship.

Inside the theatre, Cruz’s appearance shifts from leader to something like a priest performing a ritual of exorcism. His white clothing and simple staging enhance the sense of ceremony, casting him as both supplicant and shaman. As he stands before the audience, he asks, “What place does the art of the body have in a country where my body disappears in the face of the longing for a white society?” Cruz’s anti-art approach takes centre stage, tearing apart the classical notion of art as an embodiment of beauty and harmony. Rather than offering aesthetic comfort, he confronts the audience with the raw and unaddressed scars of colonialism, exposing the ways its legacy continues to shape and oppress marginalized cultures today. Cruz draws the audience toward redemption not through the art itself, but through the most primal of human connections—his bond with his mother, the letters he wrote to her, and the home he longs to return to. This return to one’s roots, or nostos (nostoi in Greek, meaning a return or homecoming), becomes the only true redemption.

As a piece of anti-art, Soliloquio is intentionally difficult to categorize or rate. How do we assign stars to a performance that denies traditional artistic conventions? Do we measure it against the standards of art, or judge it by the potency of its anti-art stance? Soliloquio resists these frameworks altogether, which is perhaps its ultimate success. Cruz’s work is raw, unsettling, and deeply impactful, leaving viewers with questions rather than answers—a testament to the resistance and resilience of his vision.

REVIEW: As I Am Naturally

Published on by arrankemp7Leave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

‘A victorious and rhythmically hypnotising reclamation of the body in the wake of assault’

The metal plains of Salford seem rather quiet for a Friday night, but the black box confines of the Aldridge Studio are about to be melted away. Once transported to the flowing sands of Cape Verde, Tania Camara’s ‘As I Am Naturally’ compels the audience with forty-five minutes of spoken word and dance all driven by the rhythms of Batuku, a style of performance originating from the African island nation.

‘As I Am Naturally’ is a transfixing, physically driven piece of theatre. It owes much of this focus on embodiment to its gripping yet well-handled dissection of reclaiming oneself in the violent wake of sexual trauma. What makes this utterly more tragic is Camara’s decision to focus on childhood sexual assault, an often-taboo subject in British cultural works. However, this piece does not mellow in tragedy yet resurfaces in a victorious reclamation of sexual identity. 

Much of this victory owes itself to Camara’s distinct ability to accommodate the audience. She engages by rarely breaking eye contact with the audience, yet also her natural demeanour invites the audience to listen. It helps she is a professional clinical hypnotherapist, which creates a perpetually connected and fascinatingly sustained performance. The strongest moments come in times where Camara balanced paralysing silences with the multilingual, enveloping writing. Featured in the captivating section which harrowingly recalls an assault, Camara repeats, ‘I lay there still as a carcass. Rage’. 

The writing is hypnotically repetitive, without becoming arduous, and creates a sensuousness which is assisted by some highly emotive lighting design from Andrew Croft. Unfortunately, this hypnotism is broken occasionally by the physical presence of a musical performer on stage with Camara. While the sound design of the piece occasionally works in tandem with the rest of the piece, with some beautifully soothing arrangements, it sometimes is a distraction from the intimate atmosphere between Camara and the audience – which I see as the piece’s strongest suit. 

The other aspects of the stagecraft work to varying successes. The set is great, dominated by a ‘veve’ – a cosmogram representing Oshun, the goddess of love, fertility, and abundance. Camara constructs this at the top of the piece by sprinkling sand over the stage floor, evoking the spirit of the goddess throughout the performance. The projection works as an effective way to translate verbatim recordings of assault survivors telling their stories in Portuguese and Cape Verdean Creole, yet sometimes its use to demarcate sections with names can again be distracting. 

This piece was created in association with the ‘Developed With’ programme facilitated by the Lowry and is a wonderful feature for the Manchester theatrical scene. It is community that runs through this piece and is worth seeing purely for a moment of magic in the conclusion of the show where the power of community is felt at its strongest. It is well deserving of life beyond this short run.

REVIEW: Traplord

Published on by Maria Mădălina IfrimLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A Bold and Unsettling Exploration of the black identity

“Traplord,” staged at Aviva Studios in Manchester, is a show that masterfully creates an atmospheric, almost immersive experience from the moment it begins. The production subverts expectations, even though it starts with a stereotypical image right from the start: the cast is dressed in military and combat-style black clothes and accessorized with gold jewellery. Through a mix of dance, music, and spoken word, “Traplord” tackles complex issues of racism, masculinity, privilege, and stereotypes with a visceral intensity that lingers long after the performance ends.

One of the most intriguing aspects of the show is its use of video game metaphors and projections, which cleverly bring the characters to life in a way that feels both innovative and raw. This blend of the virtual and the real adds layers to the performance, making the audience question what is real and what is merely a construct. Although I could piece together motifs and ideas, I could not form a narrative. But maybe that was the point – every part being better than the sum of it. However, some moments felt a little heavy-handed; for instance, the recurring pig mask, seemingly inspired by “Lord of the Flies,” felt a bit too on the nose in its symbolism.

The choreography is fluid and dynamic, seamlessly weaving between movement and narrative and spoken word (particularly with an entry about the connection of Manchester with the slave trade). Performances are consistently compelling, particularly Kanah Flex, whose discomfiting ability to contort his body stole the show and left a lasting impression. His physicality added an extra dimension to the performance, highlighting the tension between the human “shell” and the mental anguish.

Despite these strengths, “Traplord” does occasionally fall short in its storytelling. While it is visually stunning—a true feast for the eyes—the narrative thread feels loose at times, struggling to fully connect its many ambitious ideas. The motif of the “perfect human,” which repeats throughout the show, remains particularly puzzling, its purpose is never fully explained, leaving the audience grasping for a clearer message. This lack of clarity, coupled with moments of sensory overload, can make the performance feel overwhelming and disjointed at times.

Given its Olivier Award-winning pedigree, expectations for “Traplord” were understandably high, and in many ways, it delivers on its promise. It’s bold, challenging, and often uncomfortable, pushing the audience to confront their own biases and preconceived notions. However, with a bit more focus on narrative cohesion, it could transcend its already impressive achievements. For now, “Traplord” remains a powerful, if occasionally disorienting, exploration of modern identity that is as thought-provoking as it is visually captivating.

Runs until 29th Sept: https://factoryinternational.org/whats-on/traplord-ivan-michael-blackstock/

REVIEW: Big Feelings

Published on by John RichardsonLeave a comment

Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

An interesting but middling exploration of the Mexicana experience

As someone who loves poetry, I think it’s one of the riskiest kinds of shows to go to. It’s an art form that is so personal, raw and each poem has it’s own niche that means even if it’s brilliantly written you might just not like it. That said I went to see Gigi Bella’s Big Feelings, a self described “A one-of-a-kind spoken word musical” exploring the Mexicana experience with eager anticipation.

Here the first hurdle is reached -because I don’t think this description is true. The given descriptor makes it sound like it was going to have a unique format, have a really well defined structure but it doesn’t feel like that. It meanders between monologue, song, poem, and joke like most poetry shows I’ve been to do, hardly unique or one of a kind in that sense. Some flourishes do stand out like changing costumes in front of the audience in between poems or songs while still talking the whole time, parodying Taylor Swift’s constant wardrobe changes.

The more interesting aspect is the focus on the Mexicana experience. Gigi’s perspective and way of expressing the how growing up in a country that doesn’t seem to want her or people who look like her, interacts with every facet of her personal life really brings the emotional burden of juggling such an antagonistic culture with trying to find self love, romance and security in a country that tries to offer little.

At the height of her powers I feel like I get and understand these struggles and the emotional complexity just a bit better than I did before on a personal level, she can cut through clichés to a raw version of her experience. Her final poem about Taco Bell is brilliant at this, using vivid imagery of a family crouched round a table with a meal to explore how the authentic Mexican experience isn’t about fancy made tacos in an upmarket restaurant, it’s about struggling and fighting to find a place in a country that shows ever increasing hostility towards them.

Unfortunately this poem stood out so much also because I found most other poems failed to really cut so deep and sound so insightful to me. Maybe it’s because being British certain cultural references don’t translate as well (sometimes literally), but I think some poems just don’t offer either new ideas or interesting ways to present them in verse. Clearly she can write and perform poems that really do cut straight to your core like the best poems should, but perhaps with more time, more careful curation of a set or show we can see the potential realised. There were parts in all where I did really nod along with a strong line, or compelling imagery but this was too fleeting and inconsistent to be moved throughout.

https://tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/big-feelings

REVIEW: Being Mr Wickham

Published on by Jasmine PLeave a comment

Rating: 2 out of 5.

This is Adrian Lukis at 60, not Mr George Wickham

The award-winning Original Theatre Company bring this production to Jermyn Street Theatre following a successful run in New York. Written and performed by Adrian Lukis, this one-man play explores what happened to one of Austen’s most charming villains in later life. 

Taking the shape of a one-hour monologue from George himself, set in the Wickhams’ drawing room in Hexham, this aimless, sentimental and sensationalized tale of the life of Wickham leads me to conclude that the fetishistic obsession with Regency England must run rampant without discernment in the USA; I predict less success at home.

The production value is excellent – with lighting, set and sound design all executed charmingly and professionally. Where this show falters is in Lukis himself – both his script and his vision, even at times his acting, fail to convince. This makes the whole concept even more of a cock up, given how Austen’s Wickham was defined: ‘whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully.’

The script is littered with references to Regency England figures, places or names – perhaps this persuades some in the audience that they are watching an authentic Wickham – but the effect is over-researched. At times, it sounds like a series of footnotes, and the overall impression is of a tourist to the period, rather than a character from it.

Wickham was never this pathetic, self-pitying, or indeed self-aware: the character as described in the novel is almost untouchably arrogant, self-centred, materialistic and hedonistic. The vanity, to Lukis’ credit, is one of the few parts that rings true. But the ultimate failure of Lukis’ depiction of Wickham is in the gossip, the loquaciousness and the oversharing. There isn’t even a hint of the reticence (feigned or genuine) which characterises so many of Austen’s villains, and Wickham in particular. 

Of course, there are several anecdotes and quips which are witty, camp and amusing – but none of them sound like Wickham – not even an older Wickham talking directly to an intimate audience. 

It fails to be profound at any point, especially when it tries to, and the sketching of Wickham’s biography is clumsy and heavy-handed. The whole thing felt like bad poetry from a washed up C-list celebrity.