Tag: theatre

REVIEW: Mayday

Published on by Matin CheungLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Mayday is a collective stand against the far right and a call for hope and solidarity.

Mayday is an international distress signal used in life-threatening emergencies, while May Day, the first day of May, carries another history: a festival of summer, a day of labour, and a day of protest. Those meanings meet powerfully in Mayday, the rapid response theatre project co-curated and directed by Cora Bissett and Hannah Lavery, and commissioned by the National Theatre of Scotland: an emergency call against the far right, but also a declaration of hope, solidarity, collective movement, and belief in the power of the people.

The one-night-only event did not simply gather anti-far-right performances together. It built a chorus. From the opening force of ‘Nazi Boys’ by Declan Welsh, the night moved through song, testimony, satire, dance, poetry, film, and memory, with each piece speaking to a different wound in the present political climate. ‘Stonewall’, performed by Loud and Proud Choir, carried the sound of queer resistance into the room, while a short documentary about Gina, the Gaza Infant Nutrition Alliance, extended the evening’s politics beyond Scotland.

That sense of resistance was sharpened by Women Against the Far Right, whose dance piece responded to the weaponisation of women’s rights, refusing the far right’s attempt to use feminist language against vulnerable communities. In Becoming Tia, Glaswegian-Arab trans storyteller Tia Boyd brought stand-up into this same terrain, turning personal experience into political satire. The Correct Version, meanwhile, used satire to answer Nigel Farage’s not-so-shocking-by-his-standards call for Welsh museums to be told what to show and teach, exposing the absurdity and danger of controlling culture through nationalist grievance.

The evening also made space for grief, masculinity, memory, and belonging. Harvest, a poem about toxic masculinity in British culture, sat alongside Being Navid, in which Sanjeev Kohli reflected on his role as shopkeeper Navid Harrid in the BBC sitcom Still Game, and on what that role has meant for representing communities in Scotland. These moments mattered because they showed the fight against the far right done by the creation of spaces, the force of collective power, and the stories that allow a community to see itself.

As the night continued, the atmosphere became increasingly collective. ‘It’s Not a Wean’s Choice’, a song from the musical Glasgow Girls, performed with Mothers Against Genocide, responded to the hostile far-right climate in UK politics. ‘Dala’, a song remembering Sheku Bayoh, who died after being restrained by police in Kirkcaldy, brought another register of mourning and anger into the room. 

What emerged from the curation was a constellation of Scottish talent, and a portrait of the diversity that nourishes their perspectives. These voices came from women, from the LGBTQIA+ community, from generations of immigrants, and from people whose lives carry the complexity of belonging to a society. Mayday created a space for these perspectives to meet, speak, and respond to one another. It showed the necessity of understanding rather than hatred, of accepting difference rather than producing division. The power of the night lay in the way these voices stood beside one another. Together, they became the collective voice we urgently need to hear.

Of course, one might sometimes wonder what one night can do to change society. It is easy to become cynical about the role art can play, especially in a political climate so often distorted by far-right noise, online hostility, and bot-fed outrage. Yet there is something powerful in simply being reminded that you are not alone. Without that reminder, it becomes much easier to feel discouraged, isolated, and overwhelmed by the climate that the far right has helped to create.


As it happened, Mayday took place only six days before the election in Holyrood, at a moment when Scotland was being asked to decide its future. By the time the night ended with Patti Smith’s ‘People Have the Power’, performed with rewritten lyrics responding to our dark political moment, the event had become more than an anti-far-right statement. It becomes a promise: that community, solidarity, progress, and hope remain possible because people are still willing to stand together

REVIEW: Grace Pervades

Published on by Tabitha JamesLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Competent actors bring to stage a very nondescript story of the greatest stars of the Victorian stage 

There is something quietly ambitious about Grace Pervades as it transfers from its residency in Bath into the intimate setting of Theatre Royal Haymarket, bringing tales of English theatrical royalty to its grandeur. David Hare’s play centres on Victorian icons Ellen Terry and Henry Irving, charting their lives and careers through a detailed biographical lens, partly narrated by Terry’s two out of wedlock children.

What unfolds on stage is a thorough account of these fabled stars, though the framing choice raises questions. The inclusion of Edith and Edward Craig as narrative anchors feels uneven, their place in theatrical history suggested but never fully justified within the piece. Their storyline is also difficult to follow at times, with unclear shifts in timeline and focus. Edward is presented as abrasive and often unlikeable, while Edith is positioned as both a feminist advocate and a more reserved, dutiful daughter, a contrast that never quite settles into something cohesive.

At the centre, the relationship between Terry and Irving is drawn with a steady, if somewhat narrow, focus. Ralph Fiennes portrays Irving as a dour, self-involved figure, capable of generosity in building a company yet clearly uneasy about being outshone. His reluctance to fully champion Terry, keeping her at arm’s length after their relationship shifts, becomes a defining thread. Miranda Raison presents Terry as outwardly confident, though repeatedly shown setting aside her own ambitions in service of Irving’s vision. The dynamic reflects the period, but it also leaves many of the female characters feeling underdeveloped, their roles largely tied to facilitating the lives of others.

The performances themselves are assured. Fiennes delivers a controlled and familiar intensity, inhabiting a brooding, looming Englishman that sits comfortably within his range. Raison, by contrast, offers moments of genuine spark, particularly in her renditions of Shakespeare, which bring a welcome sense of variation. Irving’s own Shakespearean monologues feel more uniform, lacking the same sense of discovery.

The production design is effective without drawing focus. A dark, sheet-covered set evokes both backstage wings and the ghosts of past productions, with much of the action contained within a lit central space. Costumes are time-appropriate and well executed, while the ensemble remains polished and supportive throughout. There are occasional noticeable interruptions in pacing, particularly in transitions between scenes, though these are resolved smoothly enough not to disrupt the overall flow.

The script itself proves more challenging. There are flashes of humour, often rooted in theatrical sensibilities, but these moments are balanced by stretches where the pacing becomes slow and the narrative feels static. The play largely confines itself to the professional ambitions of its central figures, offering limited insight into their wider lives. As a result, the claim that Terry and Irving changed theatre forever is not fully realised on stage, especially for those without prior knowledge of their legacy.

This show runs at Theatre Royal Haymarket until 11th July. Tickets here.

Image Credit: Helen Murray

REVIEW: A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Published on by justinemsjonesLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Pure theatrical joy under the Globe’s open sky”

Few plays carry the enduring familiarity of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, yet for the Globe Theatre’s 2026 summer season, it feels freshly reimagined. Emily Lim’s production creates a space for fun and merriment, where playfulness is apparent in every moment and the joy on stage feels infectious.

The chaos of Dream is brought to life by an excellent ensemble. Adrian Richards graces the stage as Bottom, striking a balance between earnestness and absurdity. Richards gives such an energetic performance throughout. The musical t-shirts land as a visual punchline before a word is even spoken. Michael Grady-Hall leans wholeheartedly into Puck’s mischief, embodying every familiar trait while still finding space to surprise, creating a character that feels classic and freshly unpredictable. Across the wider company, there is a true sense of unity and cheerfulness. Each performer contributes to a world that feels alive in every corner of the stage. It is this shared commitment that allows the magic to be found and the humour to land effortlessly, resulting in a cast that not only performs together, but plays together.

Frankly, there are few places greater to experience Shakespeare. As a travelling reviewer experiencing the Globe for the first time, its immersive and lively reputation was more than upheld. The audience participation throughout the show was met with such enthusiasm. Seeing people light up on stage or stood in the yard, happily surprised by a cast member rushing past, added such relatable merriment, translating the emotions on stage directly to the audience. Director Emily Lim describes the aim of her adaptation is to bring a sense of community to the theatre with the audience being the missing piece of the puzzle, something so beautifully achieved.

Visually, the production matches the energy on stage. A celebration of colour brings to life the otherworldly charm, with flowers that grow as the characters develop and humorous set pieces that heighten the sense of mischief. Jeremy Deller and Edmund Hall’s banner anchors the space at the conclusion, acting as a stunning focal point that reflects the warmth and communal spirit of the production.

Whilst some of the deeper context within the play is softened in favour of exuberance, it is a small trade-off for the smile that lasts long after you cross the millennium bridge back to the city, carrying with it a reminder of the pleasure of shared storytelling.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream delivers pure theatrical joy under the Globe’s open sky, with performances running until 29th August. Tickets are available here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH:  Greg Doran

Published on by Tabitha JamesLeave a comment

Narrated by Simon Russell Beale and animated by a team of world-class puppeteers with live musical accompaniment, this unique production directed by Greg Doran blends comedy, tragedy and Shakespeare’s incredible poetry to bring the famous story of Venus and her obsession with the handsome Adonis thrillingly to life in a rich, captivating theatrical experience.

What first drew you back to Venus and Adonis, and how does this production reframe Shakespeare’s narrative poem for a contemporary audience?
Shakespeare wrote Venus and Adonis in lockdown. The theatres had been closed
because of the plague, and Shakespeare needed to make some money, so he turned his skill to poetry. What is so astonishing about Venus and Adonis is that you can tell this is written by a young man honing his skills as a playwright, writing characters, exploring the psychology of desire and attraction, which makes it very contemporary.

How does the use of puppetry shift the emotional distance or intimacy of the story’s
central relationship between Venus and Adonis?
In a way, the puppets both distance and intensify the emotional impact of the story. It is
highly-charged and at times quite erotic, and perhaps the puppets can do things that we would find challenging if represented by human beings.

In what ways did working with Simon Russell Beale as narrator influence the tone rhythm, and storytelling approach of the piece?
We haven’t actually started rehearsal yet so this is a hard question to answer, but I know
from having worked with Simon before on The Tempest, just how alert he is to Shakespeare’s rhythms and to finding the nuance in the verse, alert to how quickly
Shakespeare turns from comedy to tragedy.

What inspired the blend of Bunraku traditions and Jacobean masque aesthetics in the visual and physical language of the production?
We were on tour in Japan with Macbeth when I first saw the bunraku puppets in Osaka. I loved the simplicity of the idea, in other words: a single narrator on one side of the stage and a single musician on the other, and in between this ravishing set with puppets manipulated in full sight by the puppeteers. The willing suspension of disbelief inspired complicity with the audience- you connected emotionally with those puppet characters. I thought it would be possible to use the same techniques to explore Venus and Adonis.

How do you see this adaptation sitting within your wider body of Shakespeare’s work in terms of experimentation with form and perspective?
This is Shakespeare as a young writer cutting his teeth, developing plot, radically
reinventing the story. In Ovid, the original story Shakespeare used, Venus and Adonis are mutually attracted to each other. What Shakespeare does, which is radically different, is make Venus obsessed with Adonis, who has no interest in her. All he wants to do is go hunting – so the dynamic of the relationship is entirely different.

What does working in this more “miniature” or intimate theatrical scale allow you to
explore that large-scale Shakespeare productions might not?
I guess it’s not the scale of the production that I find fascinating but more the mode of
expression. Puppets are great film actors! A woman came up to me after one performance, saying she hadn’t spotted the moment where we swapped the comedy Venus puppet for the tragedy Venus puppet. I had to tell her there was no difference. There was only one puppet, but she read into the puppet’s expression both humour and grief.

REVIEW: Circa: Wolf

Published on by Julian HoltLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Hunger. Power. Sensuality.

A light pulses on the stage. From the darkness, bodies pounce, pause, and hungrily survey the audience. From the first few seconds, Circa’s Wolf captivates its prey. 

Created by director Yaron Lifschitz, Wolf is an ensemble of ten acrobats who leap, twist and claw across the stage with raw physicality. For one hour, we are treated to breathtaking displays of balance, strength and beauty. Circus combines with dance, as performers connect and compete as part of a primal ‘pack’.

The minimalist backdrop heightens the life and energy that barrels from one end of the set to the other. The blank stage is a canvas to be filled with powerful movements and shapes, from the performers who stand atop shoulders, swing from ropes, and physically throw each other across the space.

A pulsating soundtrack by DJ Ori Lichtik throbs and pants in time with the prowling performers. Figure-hugging designer leotards from Libby McDonnell accentuate the masculine, feminine and animalistic – every line, curve and muscle are drawn along black and flesh-coloured lines. This gives a dual effect of depicting both a powerful predator that can blend into its surroundings, as well as a vulnerable sensuality.

The acting and expressiveness from the performers was perhaps the most impressive next to the choreography. A story is skilfully told through body language and facial expression rather than dialogue, displaying distinctive characters who lust, fight, and persevere. Comedy is interspliced amid suspense. Many characters displayed eroticism and curiosity, as well as rejection and individualism. There were moments of sensuality, fear, and competition. You got a sense of the dutiful, of the arrogant, of the desperate, and an arc for each character.

But the strength and agility, as well as gravity-defying acts, are what drew appreciative gasps and applause from the audience. To see such feats of human strength, executed with precise control and discipline in a way that appears free and effortless, is a testament to human creativity. We had the chance to connect with the primal, the animalistic, the natural. Visual art and athleticism that cannot be replicated by machines. There’s a unique thrill in seeing skilled live performance cultivated through years of dedication. The experience was completed with a standing ovation, from an audience starved for something ‘real’. to complete the experience. 

If you want something a bit different, if you want to be reconnected to what humans can achieve, and if you want to see acrobatics performed by hot people in bodysuits, Wolf is a sensation.

REVIEWER: Julian Holt

REVIEW: Entertaining Murder

Published on by Flora HemmingwayLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

All the trimmings of a classic historical musical: finger-snapping numbers, goosebump-inducing ballads, jazz hands and a… real life murder case? 

Based on the Ilford Murder of 1922, Entertaining Murder tells the story of Edith Thompson’s affair with Freddy Bywaters and their trial for the murder of her husband, Percy. The show unfolds in retrospect, narrated by Edith’s sister. Decades later Avis reflects on her sister’s case letters, still campaigning for her pardon. The audience is initially kept in the dark, the depiction of murder ambiguous. We travel back to watch the secret affair between Edith and Freddy grow, before descending into a nightmare; Percy, stabbed and they both look guilty – but are they? The audience becomes the public, following the press’ sensationalised stories, and eventually, the lovers’ fate-deciding jury.

You may think you’ve walked into an all singing, all dancing ‘Who-Dunnit’, yet Entertaining Murder actually feels more like a (slightly delirious) satire or critical commentary; on the court proceedings of the day, the release of Edith’s private letters, their approval as admissible evidence in court, of capital punishment. The audience is not held in suspense long over the identity of the murderer and the mystery element quickly dissipates. The story focuses more on Edith’s trial, perhaps intentional or a limitation of writing about true events.

Although generally unmemorable, most tracks are an effective and pacey storytelling device, thoroughly engaging throughout. Some songs are particularly fun (Divorce, If The Murder Had Been Planned) or stand out with the performance (such as Sullivan’s emotional ‘Enough’ or ‘Beautiful Things’). Others are somewhat jarring as jazzy numbers contrasting so starkly with the morbid subject matter. You could say that the show reflects the ridiculous nature of the press coverage and public reception of the case, in the way that Edith, (and Freddy to a lesser extent) was put on trial for her sexual ‘misconduct’: as if the central crime was not killing but the breaking of societal norms, particularly by a disobedient woman. Whether or not the latter was the intention of Burgess, the piece is witty and self-aware with a few moments of breaking the fourth wall and humorous nods to the format of the musical to discuss murder, the death penalty, and abortion. Future Avis framing the narrative, guiding us through several time jumps was very effective storytelling and avoided confusion.

Snelson and Sullivan as Edith and Freddy have fantastic chemistry on stage which is beautifully accentuated by O’Reilly’s delicious choreography. Gee and Cosgriff playing Young Avis and Percy respectively, also switch expertly between a range of other characters. They are often comic relief in these weirdly contrasting macabre numbers. The charming Kelvin effortlessly holds all narrative threads together with emotive storytelling and strong vocals. With the 1920s costumes by Evans and set expertly denoting sense of time and place, Clingham skilfully on live keys and along with some really nice dramatic lighting states by Lambert, the production came together beautifully. It isn’t hard to see how Edith’s story captured Burgess’ imagination and their clever writing and direction does it justice. That said, tonally, the show could be more cohesive and felt produced and blocked for a much larger space. 

Well hosted by the impressive theatre facilities of Upstairs at the Gatehouse, this strangely delightful show about murder, misogyny and hanging, is jam-packed with a seriously competent cast, crew and high production value.

Entertaining Murder written by Chris Burgess, produced by LAMBCO Productions, is on until 10th May Upstairs at the Gatehouse Theatre. Tickets available here.

REVIEW: Chat Noir!

Published on by Tabitha JamesLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A lavish, wine-soaked plunge into bohemian Paris, Chat Noir! is immersive theatre at its most playful, provocative and joyfully unrestrained.

From the moment velvet curtains part and candlelit tables flicker into view, Chat Noir! invites its audience not just to watch, but to fully slip into another time, a bohemian, wine-soaked dream of 1890s Paris where art, indulgence and a little chaos reign supreme.

Entering The Lost Estate’s transformed West London venue feels like stepping into a living painting. Guests, dressed to the nines in vintage silks and waistcoats, become part of the spectacle before the show has even begun. At the centre of it all is Joe Morose as Rodolphe Salis, our charismatic compère and ringmaster for the evening, guiding the room through a three-act journey of death, absinthe and anarchy, each paired with indulgent courses and free-flowing creativity.

What follows is less a traditional narrative and more a riotous collage of performance. Issy Wroe Wright’s Muse (Yvette Guilbert) is gloriously bawdy and magnetic, prowling between tables with a voice that doesn’t just fill the room but pulls the audience into it. There’s a playful irreverence to her performance that feels distinctly modern, even as it nods to cabaret roots. Alongside her, Neil Kelso’s illusionist (Joseph Buatier) threads clever, intimate magic through the crowd, moments of quiet astonishment that feel tailored to each table, blurring the line between performer and guest.

The physical performances are just as striking. Coco Belle as Cléo de Mérode commands the space with fluidity and power, her movement sweeping the room into moments of colour and intensity, while Pi the Mime (Alex Luttley) delivers something unexpectedly tender. The opening “Death” sequence, a romantic, tragic encounter involving a simple cloak, balances humour and heartbreak with surprising delicacy, setting the tone for an evening that constantly shifts between the ridiculous and the profound.

Throughout, the house band, Les Enfants Vagabondes, are nothing short of exceptional. Led musically by Alex Ullman on piano and joined by Guy Button, Peteris Sokolovskis, Will Fry and Áine McLoughlin, they weave through the space with precision and flair, reimagining classics with a contemporary pulse. Their presence is constant, grounding even the most surreal moments in something richly atmospheric.

The second act, “Absinthe,” leans into a more introspective tone. Visually, it’s stunning, green-hued hallucinations brought to life through dance and mime, with Coco Belle’s nymph-like presence particularly mesmerising. There’s a clear intention here to explore how art fades, distorts and lingers in memory. While the energy dips slightly in this section, especially between courses, the performances themselves remain compelling, offering a thoughtful counterpoint to the surrounding spectacle.

By the time “Anarchy” arrives, the show explodes back into life. A frenetic, dazzling finale sees the company tear through operatic and theatrical references, most notably a whirlwind take on Carmen, building to a chaotic, exhilarating crescendo. The chemistry between performers is electric, and the sense of abandon is infectious. It’s messy, bold and completely unapologetic.

Chat Noir! thrives on this tension between structure and spontaneity. It’s immersive without being overwhelming, theatrical without losing its intimacy, and indulgent in all the right ways. Not every moment lands with equal impact, but the overall experience is one of warmth, creativity and sheer commitment to the world it builds.

A night that encourages you to stay a little longer, drink a little more deeply, and lose yourself, just for a few hours, in the art of it all.

REVIEW: I’m Muslamic Don’t Panik

Published on by isabellescerriLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A delightful evening for the senses. Zan, Zendegī, Āzādī (Women, life, freedom)

Bobak Champion’s I’m Muslamic Don’t Panik invites its audience to be immersed in a
world of storytelling, hip-hop and Bristolian and Iranian culture. Bobak welcomes the
audience in Farsi, at times offering an English translation, though his attention to
gesture and movements proves comprehensive enough. From the performances
beginning, a warm and genuine tone is set, and the interactiveness with the audience
proves to establish this quest to share a tale.
The set of I’m Muslmaic Don’t Panik, encapsulates the skills and varying identities that
Bobak both possesses and exhibits. A saxophone, family portraits, perfumes, and
Iranian trophies decorate the stage. In fact, this representative set is seen to reach
further than the stage, with Iranian tea, biscuits and Palestinian dates awaiting us post
show, further proving this piece to be wider than Bobak’s hour on stage.

The performance is rich in its storytelling. Bobak performs four different characters, all
cleanly transitioned into through a breakdance movement and beatbox. Notably, the
contrast in lighting and sound certainly aids the differentiation in characters, switching
from the dim lights of a bar to the house lights as Bobak narrates his story. Bobak
portrays Rob, a Bristolian pub local, who utters xenophobic remarks from his bar seat.
Moreover, we meet the bartender, who offers an explanation of his customers’ language and introduces us to the reality within this Bristolian boozer.

The characters are revisited throughout the performance, alongside our initial
Farsi-speaking Bobak, who strives to break the high tension with returns to dance and
audience interaction. When we are finally introduced to everyday Bobak, we learn that
this performance is not just a demonstration of skill and illustration of heritage, but an
opportunity to share overlooked stories. Bobak utilises his physicality and beatbox to
voice the story of the women who ran the marathon in Iran, yet were unrecognised and
ignored for their achievement by the officials. This contrast in characterisation brings a
realness to the performance and places his use of clowning in parallel to lived realities.

Multi-media and prop use is strong in the performance. Bobak’s saxophone playing is
rather moving, and his involvement of local breakdancers to perform a reenactment of
his childhood encounters with Iranian breakdancers is wholesome and unquestionably
impressive. Where this story holds so much richness, it somewhat lacks in its fullness
as a performance piece. The characters contradictions do speak truths, though I think a
greater attention to the individuals interconnectivity would really underline Bobak’s
message. In neatening the storylines of the characters, alongside an already neat
movement choreography, I believe this piece could provide a unique and rounded
representation of Bobak’s experience of being an Irian-Bristolian man. Nevertheless, I’m
Muslamic Don’t Panik, truly showcases both skill and care and expresses important
discussions within todays world.

REVIEW:Midsomer Murders: The Killings at Badger’s Drift

Published on by Joshua Varty1 Comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Comedy, Calamity and Cold-blooded Murder

Guy Unsworth’s adaptation of the ‘Midsomer Murders’ pilot episode is hands down hilarious and yet still chilling and gruesome enough of a stage production murder mystery. Be prepared to laugh at some charming use of physical comedy while still portraying the ever-violent county of Midsomer. How the population of this county has continued is the real mystery!

Daniel Casey, who originally played Troy in the screen production, gives a rye and playful approach to DCI Barnaby. Portraying the detective’s ever-whirring mind as each piece of evidence slowly falls into place. James Bradwell gave an adorable, almost tragic puppy-like energy to the role of DS Troy that matched well with the more experienced Barnaby. His ‘teacup leg Jenga’ in particular was entertaining to witness. The two bounced off each other through-out with a chemistry that was a joy to watch.

The rest of the cast were left with the mammoth task of portraying the entire population of Badger’s Drift. While ultimately a not a large village the rate of costume changes was impressive, with special mentions to the quick change at the funeral and the absolute comedy in the split costume of Chandrika Chevli being highlights.

If you’re looking for a serious approach to the old T.V. show, then you would be best looking elsewhere, the energy to the performance along with countless double entendres gave the feel of a pantomime at points. It treads the absurd without pushing too far into it, minus a bizarre hallucination-like moment with Barnaby that marked the chaos show was spiralling towards in a more matter of fact way. The piece gives some great tongue in cheek moments, along with more brazen sections where language is more on the nose. Without ruining too much, Julie Legrand has countless moments that left the audience cackling. John Dougall likewise has many a laugh for his performance as Iris, which though a little dame-like was portrayed well as the village’s curtain twitcher.

The comedy was not only in the words but ingrained into the very set itself, with many sections of the set sliding on and off the stage via a pully, this had some perfect moments of humour where simply a look or watching a character being slowly slid off the stage that became funnier the longer it went on.

Without spoiling the ending, the piece pulled all the evidence together well and did an excellent job of the reveal at the finale. Some catharsis is lost with the fate of the guilty. But overall, it did a great job of keeping the murder mystery genre alive.

In summary, the show is clearly a loving tribute to the original series, while also finding its own spin on the genre that allows it to dip into a deeper comedy than a crime series normally would. The whole cast did a wonderful job, even those that simply had nothing more than delivering a withering look. The show is currently running at the New Theatre Oxford until the 2nd of May. If tickets are still available, this is one to recommend!

REVIEW: The Choir Of Man

Published on by eviegreenstreet039f43f8d8Leave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

‘Feel good, fun and free!’ 

The concept is simple, a group of men who are regulars at their local pub ‘The Jungle’ join in song. Each character represents the well-loved pub locals we all recognise from the heart broken romantic to the practical joker.

The show celebrates hubs of community and togetherness, cultivating a unique one for the night through inviting audience members on stage to share in a pint or join in with a tune. If you like audience participation, this is the show for you, the usual rules of theatre do not apply here.

It doesn’t have a story as such but gently explores the themes of the importance of places to gather, something that I felt could be explored in greater depth. Instead, it is a collection of energetic and feel good sing-a-long songs offering something different to the usual musical theatre experience. 

Each character takes in turns to perform, with songs ranging from emotional ballads to cheeky pop hits with comedic moments threaded throughout. For me, the highlight was Jack Skelton’s tap dancing, his shoes becoming the through beat of the Paul Simon song ‘50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.’ It was clear the audience were enjoying themselves as there were numerous ruptures of applause rippled throughout the evening. 

Not only were the group full of infectious energy but they were also strong vocally which was showcased through their acapella rendition of Sia’s ‘Chandelier,’ a crowd favourite that we had the privilege of watching not once but twice. 

The second performance of this song was particularly special as a couple of local Glasgow choirs joined to sing with them, turning a large proportion of the audience into the choir. This was a particular joy to experience and another creative way to celebrate gathering in community. 

If you are looking for something with a through narrative and complex story beats, then this isn’t the show for you, but if you are willing to lean into the cheese and up for a sing-a-long then you are guaranteed to leave the theatre with a big smile on your face. The show is best served with a pint or two.

The Choir of Man plays at the Glasgow King’s Theatre from 28th April to the 2nd May before continuing it’s tour around the UK. Tickets can be purchased here.