Stage: Laughing through the pain

Double Act
by Nick Hyde
director Jef Hall-Flavin
with Nick Hyde, Oliver Maynard
set Christophe Eynde
lighting Holly Ellis • sound Frederick Waxman
Southwark Playhouse Borough, London • 19.Mar-5.Apr.25 ★★★★

Fiercely inventive, this dark drama has the look and feel of a vintage comedy, with elements of Pierrot-style mime and Three Stooges-esque slapstick clownery telling a properly bleak story of a young man at the very end of his rope. It's sharply performed to keep the audience engaged, with a continual stream of smart visual touches that push the boundaries in ways that force us to think. And since it's exploring the nature of suicidal intentions, it's also vitally important.

Nick Hyde and Oliver Maynard appear on-stage as mimes, although they also have microphones into which they speak in a double-headed stream of consciousness that reflects the mindset of a single young man. Sometimes in synch, finishing each others' thoughts or diverging entirely, they represent a stormy internal monologue as this guy decides to skip work, wander through central London and then head by train to the coastline in Eastbourne. He speaks to his boss, dodges calls from his mum and runs into both friends and strangers along the way. This is how he has decided to spend his very last day.

What's most remarkable is that we never lose the thread, even as dialog spins between the actors and characters with a rapid-fire delivery of comedy and emotional resonance. This man is determined to walk forward, "neck straight ahead", and not let anyone disrupt him. But each encounter eats away at him, as do tiny things that happen along the way. All of this is written and staged in an intentional way that sometimes feels rather over-thought. But we feel every emotion, light and dark, and the cumulative effect is powerfully gripping.

The staging is very clever, using terrific props, little tricks and witty signage to propel things forward through a number of astutely hilarious set pieces. A section touching on tube etiquette includes a romantic daydream and a crazed moment of toxic masculinity. A scene in a public toilet is riotously funny. A white rubbish bin produces and collects props, becoming a symbol for self-criticism. And there are amusing running jokes about things like journalling and children's literature. Through all of this, Hyde and Maynard totally inhabit the two sides of this guy's mind, as well as a number of vivid side characters.

Both actors have such an openly emotive presence on stage that it's impossible for us to resist them. We feel each pang of their glee, anger and deeper pain. So even if we understand that this man's despair is rooted in his youthful point of view, we can see that it's very, very real for him. Still, there's something inside that keeps delaying him from his final destination. And by the time he wipes off the mask and gets real with himself, the play hits home with real force. It might be a bit gimmicky, but this show is urgent and essential.

For details, SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE >

photos by Tanya Pabaru • 21.Mar.25

Stage: Who wants to live forever

Foreverland
by Emma Hemingford
dir Frederick Wienand
with Emma McDonald, Christopher York, Valerie Antwi, Una Byrne, Emily Butler
sets & costumes Peiyao Wang
lighting Lily Woodford • sound Jamie Lu
Southwark Playhouse Borough, London • 2-19.Oct.24 ★★★★

Set in the near future, Emma Hemingford's new play cleverly uses emerging science to explore the effect of extended longevity on various relationships. The approach is thoughtful and sometimes very pointed, but is nicely grounded in earthy humour, nuanced performances and inventively simple staging. It also never gets bogged down in its central biotechnology, which helps make sure that the audience is looking at the deeper ideas and feelings these people are struggling to understand, let alone express.

It opens in 2035, as Alice and Jay (McDonald and York) are in consultation with Dr Lane (Antwi) on the day of their "fixing", a surgical procedure that will rejuvenate every cell in their body and stop them from ageing. Wealthy due to Jay's tech job, they can afford this hugely expensive treatment, but Alice worries that her father can't. Then as they begin their now-extended life, time ceases to have much meaning for them, allowing them to leave much about their day-to-day experiences unresolved, including the decision to have a child, as well as then parenting their daughter Annie (Butler), who grows to be in her mid-30s (now Byrne) like them and must decide for herself if she's ready for fixing.

The actors are excellent at creating real people we can identify with as their situation shifts in unexpected ways. In the smaller studio theatre, a raised stage effectively keeps the actors at eye level, with minimal props to signify settings and situations. And some sequences inventively deploy cinematic styles of editing and focus, while the script remembers to include offhanded but telling details. The actors create a terrific sense of connection, with dialog that never feels cliched, from playful banter between Alice and Jay to their ongoing conversations with Dr Lane and the parents' ever-shifting relationship with their daughter. Some of the elements feel a bit pushy and undercooked, such as Jay's alcohol addiction. But the more subtle interaction carries a strong kick, such as young Annie's simple inability to accept the idea of death.

There's an eerie resonance here, as this kind of DNA restoration is already being studied. So the premise feels thoroughly believable. And Hemingford's script never simplifies the themes or issues, touching on a range of provocative questions, including the way this pricey treatment intensifies the gap between the haves and the have-nots. Even more intriguing is how immortality so profoundly changes a person's sense of motivation in every aspect of life. And bigger questions about what creates day-to-day meaning are sharply examined in the dialog. Does having more time bring happiness? Would losing the pressure of mortality stop ambition on a global scale? While the drama gets a bit heightened here and there, these loudly gurgling ideas hold the interest, leaving us with plenty to think about.

For details, SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE > 

photos by Charlie Lyne • 4.Oct.24

Stage: I'm gonna live forever

Dorian: The Musical
music & lyrics Joe Evans
book & direction Linnie Reedman
with Alfie Friedman, Gabrielle Lewis-Dodson, George Renshaw, Leeroy Boone, Megan Hill, Rhys Lambert
choreography Korinna Kokkali • lighting Adam King
sets & costumes Isabelle Van Braeckel • sound Mike Thacker
Southwark Playhouse, Borough • 4.Jul-10.Aug.24 ★★★

Adapting Oscar Wilde's classic novel The Picture of Dorian Gray for the social media age, this new musical comes with a heavy dose of gothic design, arch drama and rock opera-style songs. It feels strangely constrained by the small theatre space in the large room at Southwark Playhouse, and the direction doesn't properly take into consideration the fact that two-thirds of the audience must watch the backs of characters' heads during momentous conversations, simply because they don't move. But this mixed bag is sold by the gifted cast, who properly pour themselves into their roles. Their singing is often impressive. And the show looks properly lush.

While the florid set and costumes reside in a parallel 19th-meets-21st century universe, the story and dialog have been cleverly updated to the present day, offering telling new insights into Wilde's vivid themes. It's a fable about artistic ambition and the quest for eternal youth, as young Dorian (Friedman) begins to go viral with his music, then is promoted by publicist Victoria (Lewis-Dodson) and literally immortalised by photographer Baz (Boone). But he makes a bargain with the devil, remaining youthful as a picture in the attic begins to reveal Dorian's twisted soul. He also discovers he is unable to love, despite crushes on both opera singer Sibyl (Hill) and his music producer Harry (Renshaw).

Lewis-Dodson & Friedman

Sex, drugs and violence feature along the way, played out in stylishly choreographic ways, but nothing quenches the longing in Dorian's sold-out soul. Embellished with layers of colour, patterns and tactile textures, everything is achingly picturesque, lit up in strikingly vivid hues to match a range of power ballads. And the actors ripple with charisma. Lewis-Dodson has the strongest voice, gloriously belting out her numbers while giving Victoria an enjoyably sarcastic tone. And Hill delivers beautifully in two intertwined roles. Meanwhile, Friedman, Renshaw and Boone look gorgeous and fill their songs with yearning emotions that we can clearly see, even if the lyrics never quite let us in.

Friedman & Renshaw

There is real power in Wilde's story, and it adapts very nicely to the social media setting. So there's a lot to like in this production. The way everything is positioned at the point between heaven and hell, angels and devils, love and death, is fascinating. But the show's staging undermines its impact, distracting us with heightened design elements and awkward in-the-round angles. The clever Club 27 references don't quite work as written here, because they oddly undermine the effect of the passage of time. And because the songs lack hooks, they never quite catch hold. That said, there's passion surging through this adaptation, and the actors bring the larger messages home with a kick.

Friedman & Boone

Hill

For information, SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE >

photos by Danny Kaan • 10.Jul.24

Stage: Pride and also prejudice

Why I Stuck a Flare Up My Arse for England
written and performed by Alex Hill
director Sean Turner
dramaturg Jake Vithana
sound Sam Baxter • lighting Matt Cater
Southwark Playhouse, Borough • 17.Apr-4.May.24 ★★★★

Expanding on a real event, this one-man show is a high-energy exploration of Britain's lad culture, performed with full-on commitment by writer Alex Hill. Making full use of the stage while interacting with the audience, Hill digs deeply into the allure of belonging to a club, as well as the personal cost of getting caught up in collective beliefs and behaviour. It's a powerful show that's bracingly accurate, blisteringly funny and darkly moving.

Hill is playing Billy, a die-hard 25-year-old football fan from southwest London who has gone viral as #bumflareman for sticking a lit flare in his bare backside after binging on alcohol and cocaine for the entire day before sneaking into Wembley to watch England lose to Italy in the European Cup final in July 2021. Speaking to a radio presenter, Billy is unrepentant about his actions, and goes on to describe his childhood with best pal Adam and their love for football. He also speaks about his relationship with his artistic widower father and his girlfriend Daisy, as well as the thuggish Winegum who runs his firm of football fanatics.

The script is so finely written and performed that it feels like we get to know all of these people along the way, and we can also see through Billy's delusions about each of them as he misreads a wide range of situations and conversations. All of this emerges as Hill bounces around the stage hilariously, throwing witty comments around while winning the audience over with a combination of joyfully exuberant personality and emotions that he keeps just barely beneath the surface.

The stage is fairly simple, with a wall of "Eng-er-land" flags and a couple of boxes that are cleverly used to create a range of locations. Hill gives Billy a kinetic sense of youthful confidence, darting around, downing pints and snorting powder, singing and dancing with abandon, accompanied by clever sound and lighting effects, including that bum-flare moment. He also sidles right into a row of punters to act out the show's most amusing sequence, during which Billy misses a match to attend a performance of Les Miserables with Daisy, having an epiphany in the process.

In each anecdote that Billy recounts with his engaging spark, there is striking insight into the collective hooligan mindset. But what makes the show even more provocative is the way it grapples with the racist and homophobic language these young people throw alongside the punches, never thinking about who might get hurt. It might have been even more resonant if the play addressed these things explicitly, because this vital theme remains between the lines. But as the narrative resolves itself around Billy and Adam's friendship, it becomes intensely haunting, leaving us with a plenty think about.

For information: SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE >

photos by Rah Petherbridge • 22.Apr.24

Stage: Let's talk about sex

The Sex Lives of Puppets
by Mark Down & Ben Keaton
performers Mark Down, Isobel Griffiths, Simon Scardifeld, Dale Wylde
directors Mark Down & Ben Keaton
puppets Russell Dean and Blind Summit
lights James Mackenzie
Southwark Playhouse Borough, London • 4-13.Jan.24 ★★★★

Working on a complex series of layers, this inventive adults-only show combines puppetry with verbatim theatre to explore issues relating to sexuality from a gleefully British perspective. A world premiere, the show is based on real interviews with people about their sex lives, which are then performed by the Blind Summit team with witty touches, big personalities and creative visual trickery.

Puppets take their place in the spotlight on a table either alone or in pairs. And it's remarkable how each figure blossoms with sparky energy, as performers take turns providing voices and movements. Couples bounce off each other in hilariously intimate ways as they speak about how they express themselves sexually. So each interview overflows with humour and pointed honesty, offering continual resonance. Some of these figures are so engagingly lifelike that we'd happily watch them share their stories for the full 90 minutes.

Puppets represent a wide range of ages, ethnicities, sexualities, social status and accents, plus of course varying levels of embarrassment about the topic at hand. Realistically, most warm up once they start talking, giggling about their interests, fetishes and feelings. So the chatter quickly traverses the emotional spectrum alongside the flirtation and nudge-nudge innuendo. Before the interval, the show climaxes in a beautifully surreal moment of eye-catching visual theatre, followed by an outrageous bit of shadow puppetry. Then for the finale, performers screen their faces for an amusing pile-on that's played for comedy rather than smuttiness.

Augmented by an effectively simple stage set, sound and lighting, the performers are dressed in black, never trying to be invisible. So they express their puppets' feelings on their own faces, offering a second play outside the play. This adds knowing, underlying echoes of fetishism and manipulation. Since the show is frank and honest about sex, some audience members might be taken aback. But it's never rude or shocking. And even though it's very funny, the truthfulness makes it feel eerily like watching a documentary. Indeed, many scenes offer genuine insight, such two elderly men talking about their lively sex lives in a retirement home. And it's here that one finally finds the courage to admit that that he's gay.

Because this is based on interviews, there is no further exploration of these bigger themes. But the point is that we rarely, if ever, speak about these things. And we need to be reminded that sex is different for everyone. So each anecdote will spark thought and discussion. And in the mean time, we can enjoy the artistry of these performers and puppet-makers,. 

For details, BLIND SUMMIT >

photos by Nigel Bewley • 5.Jan.24

Stage: Grin and bare it

Garry Starr Performs Everything
by Damien Warren-Smith
director Cal McCrystal
Southwark Playhouse Borough, London
29.Nov-23.Dec.23 ★★★★

It's perhaps impossible to watch Garry Starr passively, largely because he simply won't let you. But this is a rare performer who actually makes us yearn for a bit of audience participation. As written and performed by Scottish-born Aussie Damien Warren-Smith, Garry is a hugely engaging actor working off his pain by indulging in full-on clown chaos. He's absolutely hilarious from start to finish, which comes far too soon.

After being badly treated by the Royal Shakespeare Company, Garry sets out to prove that there's fresh life in theatre by performing a full range of genres for us in an hour. And off he goes, spiralling through everything from the classics and melodrama to slapstick and romantic comedy, plus pretentious Euro-theatre, burlesque, ballet, butoh and circus acrobatics. He does this in various states of undress, including a masked theatre sequence in which the dark voices inside convince him to strip off completely and cavort through the audience.

Indeed, anyone watching is intimately involved throughout, as he interacts continually with everyone in the room. This includes continuous joking as well as coaxing people on-stage to play roles opposite him. And while these absurdly funny moments involve poking fun at his volunteers, it's impossible to be less dignified than Garry. That said, for all his goofy antics and silly running gags, there are pointed jabs and emotional undertones that continually catch us off guard.

Warren-Smith is a seriously gifted performer, using his full physicality and playing with words in ways that keep us laughing. So Garry is a wonderful creation, mischievous, endearingly infectious and remarkably vulnerable. This show is a celebration of the wide range of joy theatre has to offer, and a reminder that a really good piece requires someone who is almost supernaturally talented. It also helps if they look good naked. 

For details, SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE > 

photos by Will Hamilton-Coates, Marinus Schimmel, Jeromaia Detto • 4.Dec.23

Stage: Fair is foul and foul is fair

FLABBERGAST THEATRE'S 
The Tragedy of Macbeth
by William Shakespeare
with Henry Maynard, Briony O'Callaghan, Simon Gleave, Daniel Chrisostomou, Vyte Garriga, Paulina Krzeczkowska, Dale Wylde, Kyll Anthony Thomas Cole
director/designer Henry Maynard
music Adam Clifford
Southwark Playhouse Borough • 14.Mar-8.Apr.23

Like an assault on the senses, Flabbergast takes on Shakespeare with a high-volume storm of mud and blood. It's a purely visceral production that will engage fans of the Scottish play with its earthy sensibilities and quirky touches. On the other hand, those unfamiliar with the material will find it almost impossible to follow, as the dialog is extremely difficult to hear and the narrative is thoroughly blurred by the on-stage chaos.

This is Shakespeare's familiar story of ambition and paranoia, as Macbeth (played by company founder Maynard) and his power-hungry lady wife (O'Callaghan) conspire to kill King Duncan (Chrisostomou). Macbeth assumes the throne, but the couple is consumed with fear that someone will try to take them down. They proceed to kill those closest to them in an attempt to protect their rule, but this sparks a civil war. 

All of this takes place in a whirl of activity on the floor of the theatre, surrounded on three sides by the audience. The violence is intense, including against children (who are evocatively performed using puppetry), with wine and ink spilled in bloody puddles. Silly comical interludes emerge out of nowhere, with performers mugging playfully at the audience before diving back into the epic tale of betrayal and murder.

Wearing floor-length skirts and increasingly grubby attire, each actor inhabits multiple roles, and since it's so difficult to hear the dialog, this makes it even trickier to keep track of characters and plot-lines. As does the repeated technique of cast members speaking words in unison, which sounds cool but is impenetrable. Even so, the surge of energy and passion is vividly felt, and there are some genuinely wrenching moments along the way, such as when Macduff (also Chrisostomou) learns that his wife (a soulful Krzeczkowska) and children have been killed on Macbeth's orders.

Obviously, this play has real power, and has resonated strongly for centuries as it grapples with enormous themes. The three witches that drive the action are vividly rendered here by the cast's three actress, with shrieking voices that chill the soul. And there are plenty of other loud screams, bangs, thuds, raucous songs and lively choreography to keep things sparking. None of this is terribly original, but it looks great. Although by eliminating the softer textures, it feels like little more than sound and fury.

For details, visit SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE >

photos by Michael Lynch • 16.Mar.23

Stage: Mythmaking

The Walworth Farce
by Edna Walsh
with Dan Skinner, Emmet Byrne, Killian Coyle, Rachelle Diedericks
dir Nicky Allpress
sound and music Joseff Harris
set and costumes Anisha Fields
lighting Lucía Sánchez Roldán
Southwark Playhouse Elephant, London • 17.Feb-18.Mar.23

For its first full-scale production, Southwark Playhouse's new Elephant venue is staging a revival of this absurd 2006 pitch-black comedy, a challenging play that requires a lot of work from the audience. Unfolding as a broad farce inside a bleak drama, there is very little resonance in the characters or interaction, although deeper themes add a meaningful exploration of how society tries to create cohesion by creating myths about the past.

The events take place in a grubby flat located very near the site of the theatre in Elephant & Castle, where Dinny (Skinner) has lived for nearly two decades with his now-adult sons Sean (Byrne) and Blake (Coyle). Each day, they re-enact the series of events that ended with Dinny fleeing from their hometown Cork with the boys. This requires Sean and Blake to take on multiple roles (Blake plays the women), prepare a fateful meal and re-enact a family tragedy. And each day the three vie for a best actor trophy. Then on this this particular day, the routine is interrupted by the arrival of supermarket clerk Hayley (Diedericks), who has taken a shine to Sean during his daily shopping trips. 

This jolting shift doesn't happen until the final moments of the first act, long after the audience has lost the ability to keep up with the incessant, impenetrable high-camp banter, rapid-fire character swapping and gallows humour. The second act propels everything intriguingly off the rails, although continually cycling back into the artifice prevents the narrative from developing proper momentum. Hayley's arrival breaks the routine, allowing Sean to remember what actually happened on that momentous day. But scenes within the scenes keep piling on top of each other.

Through all of this, Dinny insists that the boys accept his version of events, which along with his floppy orange wig adds a whiff of proto-Trumpian nastiness. Clearly written as an allegory within a fantasy, it's frustrating that there are so few points at which the audience can identify with anyone on-stage. This means that a couple of potential emotional kicks are badly weakened, and the only thing we take away is a vaguely intellectual consideration of how the truth will eventually conquer lies.

That said, the cast is excellent, fully inhabiting characters with a terrific sense of internalised detail, with Byrne and Coyle particularly impressive as they dive into several lively roles each. They do this with such skill that it kind of undercuts the frequent comments about how sheltered and naive Sean and Blake are supposed to be. Skinner holds the centre with ruthless charisma, while Diedericks gets to react more realistically, even if her character is rather disturbingly sidelined. Meanwhile, the technical production is first-rate, with exceptional sets, costumes, lighting and sound.

Aside from the story's local setting, it's bewildering why such a grim and ultimately unsatisfying play would be chosen to launch a new venue. Perhaps it's a bold statement that we should expect anything here. Indeed, it's a great space. So it's frustrating that the theatre's design is rather awkward, with industrial-style railings that obliterate the view from the balcony, requiring lots of uncomfortable shifting in seats to see anything happening down below.

For information: SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE >

photos by David Jensen • 24.Feb.23

Stage: Perchance to dream

The Prince
by Abigail Thorn
dir Natasha Rickman
with Abigail Thorn, Joni Ayton-Kent, Mary Malone, Tianna Arnold, Che Walker, Corey Montague-Sholay, Richard Rees, Tyler Luke Cunningham
dramaturg Donnacadh O'Briain
sound design/composer Rodent
lighting Martha Godfrey
costumes Rebecca Cartwright, Lulu Tam
Southwark Playhouse • 15.Sep-8.Oct

Ayton-Kent and Malone

More than just a play, The Prince is a fiendishly clever meta-theatre experience that makes the audience part of the story. We may be observing the show, but we're also watching each other while grappling with our own expectations and preconceptions. Playfully riffing on Shakespeare, actor-writer Abigail Thorn takes us on a deep dive into identity, using comedy and drama to wrestle with issues of family, culture, gender and sexuality. Her approach is so fresh that it can't help but take the breath away.

It opens on Henry IV Part 1, as the King (Walker) rallies his troops, wishing that his son Hal (Montague-Sholay) was a more manly leader like Hotspur (Thorn). The scene is interrupted by perplexed modern-day interloper Jen (Malone), who meets fellow outsider Sam (Ayton-Kent) and discovers that they are trapped in some sort of Shakespearean theatre dimension. As they seek a way out, they can't help but interact with actors who don't realise they're performing a play. For Jen, it's clear that these characters are trapped by what others want them to be: Hal can't admit that he's gay and Hotspur hasn't realised that she's trans.

Thorn and Cunningham

The way this spirals out of control is hilarious, echoing Tom Stoppard's witty spin on Hamlet in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, but with a sci-fi style reality-bending twist. Indeed, Thorn also takes a knowing dip into Hamlet in the second act, turning a famous soliloquy into a powerful rumination on the tension between how we see ourselves and how others see us. So while Hotspur's journey to self-acceptance is the central focus of the story, each of the surrounding characters is also confronted by their own identities and how they push their expectations on others.

While the stage design is a fairly simple variation on a chess board, director Natasha Rickman has several surprises up her sleeve as the cast members keep everything in motion, with inventive sound, lighting and costumes that literally add layers of meaning. This is also a show that is essential to set in the round, with the audience providing society's gaze onto the characters, echoed in Jen and Sam's modern-day interventions. There are also several jolting moments that shatter barriers between viewers and performers.

Malone and Thorn

Each actor brings out complexities along the way, pulling us deeper into the story's surprising gyrations. Nuances in the performances are often revelatory, exposing earthy undercurrents while maintaining a involving sense of humour that often merrily tips into the absurd. Thorn's script is packed with masterful wordplay, especially as it pokes fun at Shakespearean dialect. This is a hugely entertaining show that keeps us laughing while provoking us to think in new ways about bigger themes. It's exhilarating theatre that deserves to run and run.

Montague-Sholay and Walker

Ayton-Kent, Cunningham and Thorn

photos by Mark Senior • 19.Sep.22