2026

“The Hungry Ghost” at the Bush Theatre

Mei Leng Yew’s new play covers a lot of ground with great success. As well as the promised scares, rooted in Chinese folklore, it is a romance, with a young couple moving in together at the very moment one of them becomes possessed. Best of all, alongside its intriguing premise, it is funny.

One twist is that actor Mei Mac takes on the roles of the ‘Girl’ and her lover, creating sweet, gentle moments. Mei also plays her mother, brother and, well, just about everyone in the show. Switching roles during conversations, never losing focus or sacrificing clarity, she gives an awe-inspiring performance, with so many accents I lost count.

Mac is joined by Isabella Wei as the Ghost. This is a different kind of supernatural creature – a spook it’s possible to like! The spectre has sensible ideas about British bread and working for a living. Driven only by desire – sex and food – Wei embodies these passions marvellously. The role develops from scary to sympathetic, creating a powerful dynamic and some surprises.

There’s plenty of drama as the Ghost becomes dangerous. Cheng Keng and Carla Ng’s lighting and sound design are particularly effective. Director Ailin Conant keeps the pace swift, but allows moments of reflection when romance comes to the fore, giving the audience time to increase their affection for the characters.

The Hungry Ghost comes into conflict with modern life, allowing Yew to make observations about the diaspora, parenting, mental health, youth and gay life. The satire around the girl’s partner being a therapist could be expanded. And if some issues are resolved too quickly, that only makes the show sweeter. Yew’s themes are handled lightly. Comedy is the key, producing a piece with a gentle touch that leaves the audience feeling full. Even the ghost ends up satisfied (kind of) and I, for one, am happy for her.

Until 31 October 2026

www.bushtheatre.com

Photos by Corrine Cumming

2026

“Affluenza” at the Riverside Studios

Andy Sandberg’s drama is a think piece, directed by the author himself and well-acted. Covering plenty of topical concerns, it follows Dillon, a privileged teenager who causes an awful accident while driving drunk. There’s a lot to discuss but, ultimately, the piece says very little.

Sandberg is good at starting a debate, providing numerous perspectives that lead to fine performances. Affluenza is enjoyable enough. Dillon’s awful parents, the mother of one victim, and the father of another, are all worth watching. And there’s the lawyer, played by a convincing Rupert Young, who comes up with the defence that gives the play its title: Dillon is so privileged, his moral compass so warped, that he cannot be held responsible for his actions.

'Affluenza' at Riverside Studios 2 Photo credit Danny Kaan
Noah Schnapp

If the legal case – or the psychology behind the titular condition – doesn’t convince, you’re allowed to be sceptical. We can all join the outrage and scoff. The problem is that not much is done with the idea dramatically. Too many of the characters are flat, present just to put a point of view forward. Dillon, played by Stranger Things star Noah Schnapp, isn’t given much to work with. Donald Sage Mackay has a strong scene at a press conference, where we hear what he is thinking alongside what he says. But it is only Juliet Cowan who manages to eke out both satire and emotion, taking on two roles with the greatest skill.

After the interval, the play improves. The action is, surely, deliberately disorientating, so a plot spoiler seems unfair: let’s just say we fast-forward to see Dillon possess a new kind of privilege with a new set of problems. Young and Wallis Currie-Wood have more to do here and take on the task valiantly. Cowan is great again. But how the situations connect isn’t clear. Is Dillon’s later life supposed to be a punishment? The fate of Dillon’s son, while providing another character for Schnapp to explore, is again underdeveloped.

Showing that money can influence justice isn’t much of an exposé. While the predictable outcome of the trial could easily be the point, it isn’t a great surprise. By making both the accident and what happens to Dillon when he grows up so extreme, Sandberg distances us from the events as well as characters. It becomes too easy to dismiss what is happening rather than engage with it.

Until 21 November 2026

www.riversidestudios.co.uk

Photo by Danny Kaan

2026

“Conflict of Interest” at the Hen and Chickens Theatre

There’s a good idea behind Thomas Carruthers’ play: a legal drama that focuses on the lawyers’ office rather than the courtroom. Professional rivalry, sordid secrets and three glamorous women give it a strangely old-fashioned feel. Overall, it’s an entertaining piece of work.

Carruthers packs in an excess of detail, but his effort reaps rewards. The slow build adds charisma to his part in the piece as successful criminal defence lawyer Art Carmichael. We hear plenty about his colleague and his neuroses, and William Leggetter makes this role interesting. As for the women, three strong performances from Maeve-Anne Allen, Amy Cash and Rhian Holmes help to disguise weaker characterisation. Allen’s chemistry is great, Holmes’ Southern belle is effective and Cash brings a pleasing subtlety to her role.

Art’s wife is a former client who may have killed her father; his new client admits she murdered her husband; and we are left to wonder whether men’s ambitious intern really be as sweet as she seems. The women aren’t far from femme fatales. Carruthers attempts to solve this by bringing in modern considerations about abuse, which raises the stakes considerably. The performances become passionate, but the dialogue isn’t always convincing.

The mix of hard-boiled drama and sleaze is a touch too much. It’s as if the 1950s got very rude – interesting, if odd. Although the play is set in the 1980s, Carruthers clearly doesn’t care much for the decade (I don’t blame him), and some of his ideas about the period’s social mores are surely off. That said, there’s plenty of atmosphere, some humour, and a cast that clearly enjoys its roles.

A bigger problem is the lack of intrigue. The show is too much of a slow burn. The script needs cuts, and director Jazz Sewsanker needs to speed things up. The added music also needs dropping, especially when characters are speaking. As the men in the show grow increasingly paranoid, Conflict of Interest becomes a competition for victimhood. Who you are meant to feel for might be a little obvious – and sympathy for Art is a bit too hard to find. But as a study in delusion and victimisation, the play offers interesting twists, capably handled.

Until 3 October 2026

For tickets click here

2026, Uncategorised

“Darkling” at the Bush Theatre

Titas Halder’s play tells the story of the Bhopal chemical disaster through the experience of one nameless character. Giving this woman, from one of India’s lowest castes, a potent voice and focusing on her in such detail is stirring. At first, the poetry used to describe her difficult life includes moments of childhood joy and chances for a better future. The vivid descriptions are strong on colour and the sense of touch.

This is a huge role for one performer, not least as 90 minutes is a very long monologue. Taking on the challenge, Linnea Berthelsen secures respect but, unfortunately, there are moments when she does not do the script justice. The delivery is sometimes rushed, repetitious and, perhaps, nervous. Performing as a wide-eyed child, the naivety comes close to grating. And some of the script, especially at the end of a thought, is hard to hear, which is frustrating.

Berthelsen gets a lot of help. Matthew Xia’s direction is unflinching, embracing the brutal realities of the piece. The minimal set and lighting design, from Simon Kenny and Rajiv Pattani, are strangely beautiful, and the use of dry ice is particularly effective. Berthelsen also improves as her character grows up. Scenes of the disaster are done well, while her life afterwards – difficult to comprehend let alone perform – is depicted with a passion and skill the actor should be proud of.

The aftermath of the chemical spill gets relatively little time, but is uncomfortably intense. After a miscarriage, there is also a stillborn baby. The question arises: is that the depth of the cruelty here? It isn’t just what happens to this woman or her fears for the future we are asked to face. It is the destruction of hope. It’s a bold move for a playwright. And while it risks being simply bleak, Darkling carries that danger proudly.

Until 24 October 2026

www.bushtheatre.co.uk

Photo by Alex Brenner

2026

“Kimberly Akimbo” at the Hampstead Theatre

The heroine’s full name in this Tony Award-winning show is an anagram of “cleverly akimbo”. And that pretty much sums up what’s going on. David Lindsay-Abaire’s intelligent take on the high-school musical, which brings a different perspective to the genre, with music by Jeanine Tesori, is close to fantastic.

There are some excellent songs: for the school choir quartet, a budding romance and a fantastic finale to the first act. The lyrics are smart and, like the score, always interesting. Michael Longhurst’s direction is assured; the set, by Soutra Gilmour, is superb, and every performance deserves praise. So why any reservations?

The show’s big twist is that an older performer plays the sixteen-year-old lead. This isn’t blind casting: Maria Friedman takes the titular role because the character has a genetic disease that ages her. It’s the antidote to shows where kids’ problems are just problems for kids. Kimberly’s limited life expectancy is real; we know this is going to get grim. Friedman embraces the challenge, sounds great and is a true star. She is joined by the school’s “good boy” Seth, a fantastic performance from Gilli Jones, and the exploration of their tentative romance is as smart as it is sweet.

It should be enough. But Lindsay-Abaire adds more. Kimberly’s parents are troubled, not just by their child’s condition but by a criminal subplot that the kids are drawn into, and a family divide that is dismissed too awkwardly. It makes uncomfortable roles for Alice Fearn, Peter Hannah and Niamh Perry, who try hard but never seem to know how useless and nasty they are supposed to be (my answer would be very). There’s a similar issue with the choir. These are strong performances – from Sara Hajizadeh, Ronav Jaim, Robin Simões da Silva and Aviva Tulley – but it isn’t quite clear how interested we are supposed to be in these thin characters.

The distractions still manage to be fun. Fearn deserves special praise for bringing some restraint to her role. They make sure the tragic heroine isn’t the only surprise in Kimberly Akimbo. Dark humour and bleak moments meet sincerity and sentimental touches. There are simple lessons alongside an acknowledgment of how messy life can be. If credulity is pushed too far for some tastes, Kimberly has no choice but to grow up fast. Her tragedy brings the show to a strong conclusion: not great or grand, bittersweet, of course, but very special in its own way.

Until 7 November 2026

www.hampsteadtheatre.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

2026

“Bigfoot Ripped My Dog In Half I Saw It” at the Soho Theatre

It is impossible to deny the energy in this fringe hit. It’s written and devised by its performers, Xhloe Rice and Natasha Roland, who bound around the stage with impressive gymnastics and embody numerous roles. Their hard work is clear, their physical skill admirable and their efforts contagious. The duo command their stage, and the show is packed with moments and a soundtrack that’s sure to prove memorable. It is a real shame that the problems in the piece cannot be disguised by such antics. Despite the clear talent involved, we never break out of a sketchy treatment.

The story is not easy to follow. Two teenage friends claim that the cause of a road accident is a Sasquatch, and their little lie rapidly expands. Hysteria hits their “three-traffic-light town”, there are more sightings and people become scared. A lot of this is well done, especially the quick switches between characters. Some excellent lighting and sound design reflect the mania. But there’s a thinness to the characters – even in our lead protagonists, who talk a lot about Dairy Queens – while a sheriff with a backstory feels like a missed opportunity. It all ends up just a little too puzzling.

The sense of place is vague (to me, anyway), with a flood having rendered the town’s water supply dangerous. The treatment of its inhabitants borders on caricature, and the attempts at humour through this are unsuccessful. Thankfully, there is more going on than simply mocking the locals, who join in with the lie, each with their own motivations in mind.

The show’s strengths come in sections showing political pressure and the involvement of a government agency called the Crisis Response Team. The idea that the truth is being played with, and that fear is being enjoyed and manipulated, is interesting. A final suggestion that Bigfoot might be real – or at least real now that the stories have created it – could be explored more. The show comes close to moments that are both sensible and sinister. That combination intrigues, but too much gets in the way.

Until 26 September 2026

www.sohotheatre.com

Photo by Jennifer Forward Hayter

2026

“There is a Light and a Whistle for Attracting Attention” at the Hen and Chickens Theatre

This thought-provoking monologue, written and performed by Henri Merriam, is impressive throughout. The story of one woman’s search for love – and a troubled relationship – is sincere, insightful and full of ideas.

The pacing, impeccably handled by director Sophia Capasso, is skilful. The woman looks back on her childish ideas of Love with a florid L, inspired by Disney and Celine Dion (they’ve both got a lot to answer for). The tone is observational, the character is appealing, and Merriam has a knack for comedy, despite dark moments.

Tension mounts as a relationship progresses (some of this is not for the faint-hearted). From dating and marriage to lockdown, therapy and divorce, each period gets attention. There are fascinating links to how women are viewed by society, the pressures placed on them and how they subsequently judge themselves. But, throughout, Capasso keeps the action swift so that the show never feels like a lecture. The production is aided by fine sound design from Frazer Merrick and Shahaf Beer’s set – a chest of drawers full of surprises.

If there’s a problem, it’s that the story is not new. The guy, whose voice we hear through recordings, is awful. The gaslighting and abuse are clear and predictable. It isn’t Merriam’s fault, but the piece becomes depressingly familiar. The show is saved by strong acting and, in a satisfying twist, by the woman herself.

Calling on religion and mythology, embracing the darker side of her nature, seems to be the way out. From chats with the serpent in the Garden of Eden to imagining herself as a vengeful Medusa, there’s a playful edge that might be further explored. The conclusion leaves the audience wanting more for itself and, more importantly, more for the protagonist.

Until 13 September 2026

www.playnicelytheatre.com

Photo credit Scott Godding

2026

“Galaxy Train” at the Underbelly Boulevard Soho

Five-star hits at the Edinburgh Fringe are often weird and wacky. Nonetheless, this Japanese show might be one of the strangest to subsequently travel to London. It’s a musical for children (kind of) that takes the audience to the stars, performed by near-naked men with an emphasis on physicality, informed by kabuki and clowning. If that appeals, then fair enough. And there are plenty of laughs. Thankfully, there is a lot more to the show than just silliness.

The story, based on the work of Kenji Miyazawa, is simple. A fantasy tale, impressive for its emotional sting, it recounts the adventures of two young boys, Giovanni and Campanella. Parents and classmates feature, the boys have difficult lives, and they escape to travel to the Milky Way. Chobi Natsuki, who plays Giovanni, directs the production and takes the lead in singing, accompanied by the show’s playwright, Maruichiro Maruo, who gives a sterling performance. It’s crazy, funny and surprisingly emotional.

Every movement is exaggerated; the cast break out into dance and could win gurning competitions. The energy is astounding and the level of dance and acrobatics accomplished. It takes real skill to be this silly. The mix of references – Japanese traditions, surely commedia dell’arte and a great Pina Bausch gag – is bewildering, but every joke and emotion is clear. If anything, the show might be a little too concerned with making sure its British audience follows what’s going on – such care dampens the wonder a little. Despite protestations that “nobody understands everything”, most of the piece is performed in English and there are a lot of paper signs to ensure we understand the words.

Did I mention that the men wear only shoulder pads? The story is that the company, called 2 Shoulder Pads, was so broke during Covid that it couldn’t afford costumes, so its players use shoulder pads as a kind of codpiece. Who doesn’t love that level of invention? As it happens, the extra props in the show (mostly hats) are handled superbly. You don’t have to be much of a cynic to see this as a gimmick. But hold on. The aim is “free” theatre: the company is crowd-funded (donations welcome), and the idea is that the costumes liberate the imagination. They are certainly a lot of fun – sweet, even – and if the lofty aim doesn’t quite convince, the show is memorable and far more than just a space oddity.

2 September 2026 only

www.shika564.com

2026

“The Haunting of Verity Evans” at the Hope Theatre

Freya Jackson’s play combines trauma, mental illness and ghosts. The writing is neat, the action intense and the twists original. It’s an intriguing premise from the start. Ellie ran away from an abusive home and, as an adult, has written about it. But her sister Verity stayed. It is a bold move to suggest that writing about trauma, a familiar therapeutic exercise, hasn’t helped Ellie to escape it.

She returns to meet a resentful Verity after many years and finds they have much to resolve. Their childhood home turns out to be, literally, haunted. And the sisters are inexplicably trapped in it by a locked door. There are some genuinely creepy moments that help to power the action along. There are also problems. The dialogue is too quirky too often. Yes, Verity is odd, and her sister is described as a “liability”, but their vocabulary is sometimes convoluted and the mind games they play too transparent.

Perhaps Ellie’s efforts to be sincere constrain the character? The performances – from Alex Dickson and Liberty Jackson – might also be more confident. The production would benefit from greater variety. The depictions of the sisters being cruel to or consoling each other need more time to develop.

In fairness, there is a point to Verity’s often muted delivery. Even when she explains that she is “cursed”, she does so calmly, which makes it scarier. And Ellie’s anxiety makes sense, too. But the short scenes in which the sisters “switch” roles don’t convince. Introducing these so clearly makes them easy to follow, but also takes away tension. They need more time and greater nuance to justify their inclusion.

Jackson has interesting ideas about the haunting, and the way the past can feel alive to those who have experienced trauma is intelligently explored. For a short piece that raises a lot of issues, she manages a strong conclusion that is neither predictable nor pat – and that is impressive.

Until 26 August 2026

www.camdenfringe.com

2026

“Abigail’s Party” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

While Mike Leigh has, justifiably, gained much admiration through his long career, not many would describe him as a crowd pleaser. Much of his work is enjoyable, its humour part of the appeal, but this revival of his most famous piece, directed by Nadia Fall, makes comedy its raison d’être.

Part of this broad approach might be a way of dealing with the age of the script. We are just shy of its 50th anniversary. Domestic abuse, marital infidelity and troubled teens are tricky subjects. The characters who assemble for evening drinks are a long way from present-day politesse. Or maybe there’s a little confusion about class? The aspirations of these suburbanites longer contain much sting. Fall’s strategy seems to be to treat it all as a joke, and there’s no doubt the production is funny.

Some poignancy is lost. After all, this is a group of unhappy people whose problems we might want to explore. Famously, we never meet the party girl in question. Abigail is the daughter of Susan, a divorcee who has been banished from her daughter’s house party and visits Bev instead. Played by Pandora Colin, Susan’s reserved calm stands out nicely.

The two are joined by new neighbours, a young couple, one of whom seems to regret their marriage. Omar Malik and Ashna Rabheru get a lot out of the scenario, the latter’s ignorance far from blissful. And, of course, there’s Bev’s husband, Laurence, played by Kevin Bishop, who some might describe as long-suffering while others would find insufferable. The characters are great, the performances strong, and there’s lots of nuance here if you want it.

Subtlety isn’t the name of the game, though. Along with 1970s cuisine and courtship, we’re asked to laugh at the posturing, ignorance and attitudes. Is there a certain snobbishness here? I guess toes were always meant to curl, and it makes a great night for Tamzin Outhwaite.

Bev is a fantastic creation, although, being so grotesque all the time, she can be wearying. Outhwaite turns every line into a guilty pleasure. Her flirtation with one man is as overt as her frustration with another, and her bitchy consolation to the other women is equally entertaining. Bev insists on being the star attraction at all times. Outhwaite follows her character’s lead and this is, undoubtedly, Bev’s party.

Until 19 September 2026

www.haroldpintertheatre.co.uk

Photo by Mark Senior