2026

“Entertaining MURDER” at the Gatehouse Theatre

Chris Burgess has chosen a strong subject for his murder mystery musical: the true story of Edith Thompson, who was hanged in 1923 after her lover, Freddy Bywaters, murdered her husband. The case was a sensation, due to the revelation of intimate letters exchanged between Edith and Freddy. Burgess uses this correspondence effectively and there’s a real skill in how the story is told. The production is engaging, with much to praise.

Using Edith’s sister Avis to look back on events is a device that works hard. A lot of exposition is covered efficiently by Sue Kelvin, who takes the role, and reminds us a little too often how things have changed. Moments when Avis finds those infamous letters funny, rather than upsetting, are a mistake. It’s a shame we don’t get more sense of her as a character, and it’s hard on Dora Gee, who plays a younger version of her, as she is too much in the shadow of her sister.

Other characters fare better. The husband is brought to life by the hardworking Alex Cosgriff, who plays multiple roles. Freddy, portrayed by Dominic Sullivan, is a complex blend of confused youth and tormented lover, who grows throughout the show. And Daisy Snelson shines as Edith. She proves a fascinating character, and Snelson’s nuanced performance makes her vulnerable and sad as events progress, leading the audience to question if she really planned the crime.

Burgess’s music and lyrics are not as strong as the book, being competent rather than inspired, with a touch too much cliché. His direction is more even and shows impressive discipline, propelling the action without compromising his themes. And the show gets better as it goes on. Talk of Edith’s “tall tales” – the fantasy life she lived through writing, reading and the cinema – is fascinating. The trial scenes are focused, and the whole piece becomes more adventurous. Best of all, there are surprises: a focus on the sisters, a convincing romance between Edith and Freddy and the latter’s final song. A dark and creepy number, ‘See Edith Thompson Swing’ is the culmination of the public’s interest in the story. It might arrive too late, but it is nonetheless welcome, and is part of a strong finish for the show.

Until 10 May 2026

www.upstairsatthegatehouse.com

2026

“Iphigenia” at the Arcola Theatre

If you ever feel the need to question the power of Greek tragedy, this strong production from Serdar Biliş might help you make up your mind. It is common enough to update Euripides’ story of Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter to start the Trojan War. For a London audience, Robert Icke’s great Oresteia springs to mind, but Biliş achieves a lot with a quieter strategy that is just as profound.

Between scenes, Biliş inserts videos of ordinary women telling us about their fathers and sons in relation to love, violence and sacrifice. It might have been nice for these to be recounted live, but their brief statements resonate with the play and impact on it. It is a brilliant take on the Greek chorus – simple and sincere. The performers have similar tales to tell (their breaks in character are impressive). What may seem a long way from the events in the play becomes related to real lives. The idea is sound and memorable.

Make no mistake – the key to success here is a solid appreciation of the original piece, with a clear and controlled version from Stephen Sharkey and superb performances from an excellent cast. Quick to emote, and just as good at setting forth arguments, the actors complement the script perfectly. Simon Kunz’s Agamemnon is frightening and persuasive. He conveys his character’s dilemma as very real, and that should be impossible. Indra Ové’s Clytemnestra and her daughter, played by Mithra Malek, are both moving. Ové made the hair on the back of my neck stand up as she argues, so coherently, against her husband. Iphigenia’s final acceptance of her fate, framed as martyrdom, is depicted by Malek with breathtaking skill.

The production explicates the ancient themes and expands the play. The sense of the “war machine” that Agamemnon cannot control is a highlight – the man with all the power is not really in charge. Meanwhile, one of the videos refers to conflict affecting “small people”: those we don’t always hear from in plays about gods and kings. As final praise, I left the Arcola thinking that there are plenty of people who need to see this production and remember both these points.

Until 2 May 2026

www.arcolatheatre.com

Photo by Ikin Yum

2026

“I Was A Teenage She-Devil” at The Other Palace Theatre

Sean Matthew Whiteford’s devotion to his parody project is clear enough. Having written the book, music, lyrics, and orchestrated the show in various forms over 15 years, the hard work is impressive and went down well at the Edinburgh Fringe. The success might well depend on nostalgia; it helps to share a love of late ’80s culture and soft rock. But even if that is not your thing, it’s easy to enjoy the show’s search for cult status.

Taking on more tropes from teen movies and horror flicks than you would have thought wise, Whiteford knows his stuff. There are plenty of in-jokes about music, news, and fashion, with nods to musical theatre too. None of it is original, but the pace works, and a lot of it is very funny. Whiteford is entertaining—the kind of guy you’d like to go for a beer with.

The production, directed and choreographed by Rachel Klein, enhances the piece tremendously. The low-fi sets, designed by Emily Bestow, are to be expected but particularly fun. The costumes, so spot on, are great—well done, Juda Leah. It is with Klein’s choreography that the show takes off; taking the lead from the music, with inspiration from glam rock, MTV, and aerobics workouts, the dancing is clever and funny.

The performances are enjoyable too. Maybe a little too much care has been taken to give everyone a moment in the spotlight. The leading ladies, played by Aoife Haakenson and Ashley Goh, are suitably cute, and the former’s transformation into a She-Devil is a great giggle. Caitlin Anderson has a fantastic time as the high school villain, making use of her cheerleading pom-poms, while Sean Arkless masters his codpiece as Satan. The sillier things get, the better; take Louis Hearsey’s singing to the decapitated head of his schoolboy crush—is it “Too late” to declare his love? Erm, yes.

All the voices are strong, although the lyrics could be clearer, and if the songs are too rooted in pastiche to excite, they are carefully constructed. I Was A Teenage She-Devil is a labour of love motivated by fun, and the charm is contagious. The key is that Whiteford has convinced the cast and crew of his passion. The audience should follow.

Until 26 April 2026


www.theotherpalace.co.uk

Photo by Lidia Crisafulli

2026

“This Is Not About Me” at the Soho Theatre

Hannah Caplan’s play tries hard to please. With the help of a strong production directed by Douglas Clarke-Wood, its sold-out status at the Edinburgh fringe shows that it succeeds. A kind of rom-com preoccupied with the art of writing, with the conceit of being constructed as we watch, it’s a form of therapy for its characters. This Is Not About Me is layered, funny and clever. I’m just not sure anyone will like all of it. Hopefully I’m wrong, but it’s hard not to see the piece as effortful.

The love story is strong, aided by the chemistry between cast members Amaia Naima Aguinaga and Francis Nunnery, who give strong performances. Maybe it’s worth thinking of the show as a sex comedy; the scenes of intimacy are highlights. But the problem of highly articulate people complaining about communicating can be tiresome. Thankfully, Caplan injects strong observational comedy – the flirting is funny and the “post-sex honesty” appropriately excruciating. There’s a lot of wit in how clueless the characters are although it’s a missed opportunity that off-stage exes aren’t more clearly outlined.

Caplan’s writing about writing is not as successful. These parts of the play are clever, but less original, and the fact that this is acknowledged doesn’t make them any more interesting. The design and props help, though, featuring fabric and crochet – the set is full of surprises. And there’s strong video work from Inigo Woodham-Smith that explores the relationship between stage and screen neatly. Caplan is good at injecting humour to deflate pretention. But it is still hard not to see the show as taking itself too seriously.

Part of Caplan’s discussions about the play critique the work itself. Playing the critic to make your work critic-proof is common enough, though often entertaining. But Caplan is harsh. Outlining her character’s mental health problems, then accusing her of being condescending and controlling comes close to the bone. As the couple circle one another, going back and forth through their relationship, there’s a danger of becoming frustrated or feeling a little too sorry for them. Maybe their big problem, and the play’s, is over-thinking. But, of course, Caplan knows that, too.

Until 18 April 2026

www.sohotheatre.com

2026

“Teeth ’N’ Smiles” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

Lots of people from David Hare’s generation never got over the protests of 1968. For the 50th revival of this play, the hangover the Soixante-huitards felt in the early the 1970s is clear enough but it is, understandably, diluted. There’s still enough in Teeth ’N’ Smiles to engage. The piece raises questions about the role – and price – of art that are interesting, even if they feel like old ground.

Director Daniel Raggett’s production keeps the play’s bold moves. The action revolves around a rock concert at a Cambridge May ball (cue lots of predictable remarks about class). But the observations on the band’s members – who are toxic to a man – are sharp. The performances, from an ensemble who all exaggerate a little too much, do nothing to redeem this collection of man children. The humour grates and the substance abuse bores. I’m sure it’s deliberate… but it isn’t nice. There’s a similarly sinister, you could argue clichéd, manager who delivers a more successful villain. It’s a perfect role for Phil Daniels, who makes the part look very easy, which is a skill.

The band and their singer Maggie have a cult following, so we’re never really sure if they are actually any good. That creates a smart tension and it is with the role of tragic troubadour that the show takes off. Maggie is a fantastic creation, troubled to mythic proportions and furiously smart; one of those selfish and flawed characters you still admire. Taking the role, Rebecca Lucy Taylor (aka Self Esteem) shows strong acting skills and fantastic singing.

It is Taylor’s performance that makes the musical interludes work. The songs are mostly period pieces, written by Nick and Tony Bicât with additions from Taylor, and not to all tastes. But they fit well and the formidable energy behind them provides a commentary on Maggie’s wish to keep moving.

Arguably, Teeth ’N’ Smiles’ boldest move is to carry this investigation into progress to its love story. Maggie’s song-writing ex-boyfriend, a role we might align with that of the playwright, becomes a mere foil. It’s a shame for Michael Fox, who does well as the male lead, but a smart move for the play. Our heroine was always more interesting and talented than the men around here and, while the play might seem to end in the tragedy of an arrest, there’s a sense of triumph that Maggie is finally breaking free.

Until 6 June 2026

www.teethnsmilesplay.com

Photo by Helen Murray

2026

“It Walks Around The House At Night” at the Southwark Playhouse

If you like a good ghost story, then this is for you. Tim Foley’s play uses traditional elements, such as a haunted house and creepy strangers, but brings them smartly up to date and provides plenty of unexpected turns. Neil Bettles’ direction is tight and the production – with lighting, video and sound design from Joshua Pharo and Pete Malkin – first class. Best of all, It Walks Around The House At Night embraces the stage and live performance, proving there’s nowhere better than the theatre to get a good scare.

Foley gives us a very contemporary narrator called Joe and George Naylor makes the most of the role. At first, he brings out a lot of humour, some of it surprisingly gentle (Naylor is hugely endearing). But there are depths here that provide shocks and make the character fulsome. An out-of-work actor and writer, Joe is hired to perform as a ghost at a haunted house. The neat scenario turns sinister quickly and in every way you might imagine, including a potential romance between actor and producer. The steps to increase tension are piled on and add excitement as the ‘ghost’ walks night after night.

Foley’s structure is strict, with a firm knowledge of the genre – a creepy painting and picnic, as well as hallucinations, are always good. But he appreciates the importance of clever twists. So, the jump scares are grand and the spooky details effective, but it’s the addition of dance that is most welcome. I’m not quite sure about an obsession with class, although it’s a clever observation that “those bastards in their mansions” do feature large in supernatural stories. But the chip on Joe’s shoulder, while understandable, isn’t as eloquent as the rest of the play.

That shouldn’t stop anyone from enjoying such strong writing. Foley builds momentum deliciously and Bettles controls the action while Pharo and Malkin rise to the clear ambition. The action gets more physical and Naylor, joined by dancer Oliver Baines, pull off some very neat moves. Concern about the fate of Joe’s ex-boyfriend and the vivid inclusion of his friends, none of whom we see, indicate how wrapped up in the story I became. By the end, there are fewer effects. The team knows the need for them subsides – a storyteller on a stage is enough.

Until 28 March 2026


www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Tommy Ga-Ken Wan

2026

“The Uncontainable Nausea of Alec Baldwin” at the New Diorama Theatre

There are lots of puzzles in this new piece from TG Works, written and directed by Tommaso Giacomin. We can all guess the play isn’t really about the famous actor. Rather, this is Alec Baldwin as a kind of Everyman figure, with a bit of Jean Paul Sartre thrown in. It becomes clear (a little too slowly) that something bad has happened to this Alec. He’s in a sorry state and trying to work things out with A.I. As experiments go, the character’s therapy, and this absurdist comedy, are confusing but fun.

The humour is a surprise as there’s a lot of angst here. And while the opaque narrative is deliberate, it is still frustrating. Spoilers ahead, which is a shame, but the trauma is peculiar. I get recounting the price of a pint in The Fitzrovia Tavern can be disturbing. But what about a man with a hoover? A polyglot woman covered in blood? Or a guy with a Bertie Basset style head wearing just his pants (that one  might ruin my Christmas Liquorice Allsorts).

Head-scratching aside, the performances are admirably committed. A quintet – James Aldred, Stefanie Brucknerm, Manuela Pierri, Mathias Augestad Ambjør and Bartel Jespers – perform with gusto. And while the set slows down the action (a giant armchair takes too long to inflate) the show contains memorable imagery. The exploration of A.I. is witty.  And a couple of intense scenes (aided by Aldred’s video and sound design) with social media clips and a live news feed are unpleasantly effective.

Unfortunately, the puzzle about what went on isn’t quite powerful enough. It all comes down to a general anxiety disorder, akin to ‘the overwhelm’ beloved by Guardian editorials, which makes the experiment undertaken too generic. This problem is intimated in the way the piece doesn’t quite know how to end. Should it be the nice dance number everyone joins? That’d be jolly. Or the eloquent soliloquy from Alec? Instead, we end with the revelation about what happened to him. But the tragic conclusion doesn’t convince, it just depresses.  

Until 24 March 2026

www.newdiorama.com

2026

“Evening All Afternoon” at the Donmar Warehouse

American playwright Anna Ziegler’s new work is strongest when focusing on the relationship between a middle-aged woman and her step-daughter. The unexpected marriage between Delilah’s father and Jennifer comes too soon for a young undergraduate still grieving for her brilliant mother. The scenario has potential, such a relationship being necessarily layered, but Ziegler dilutes the dramatic impact by throwing in too many complications and making her characters less than believable.

Age gaps are spotlighted, exacerbated by the fact that Jennifer is slightly older than Delilah’s father. More cultural differences come from the women’s nationality and ethnicity (Delilah’s mother was African American). And Delilah is, predictably if understandably, preoccupied with representation and has plenty to say about it. Oh, and the action takes place during the Covid lockdown… so we get some thoughts about that, too.

None of this bad, or boring, but the attempts at humour don’t land and there is nothing very novel. Overall, Evening All Afternoon rambles and feels long. Delilah’s mental health suffers and there are interesting moments when her mother’s ghost haunts her and the young woman becomes dangerous. It gives the actors a lot to work with, and Anastasia Hille and Erin Kellyman both do a great job. But there’s a big problem that neither performer can do much about.

Both Jennifer and Delilah are too close to caricature. Jennifer is the repressed Brit, Delilah the entitled Millennial. One is too meek and mild, the other too selfish. Their monologues aim for profundity, and director Diyan Zora works hard to highlight these moments (we even get light bulbs going up and down). But even if they sometimes talk sense, the efforts to provide subtlety are crass. Jennifer is manipulative and a snooper and Delilah is ill – but this doesn’t mean we like or understand either woman very much. A lack of sympathy makes it hard to bother about the whole play.

Until 11 April 2026

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Marc Brenner

2026

“Blink” at the King’s Head Theatre

We are told from the start of Phil Porter’s play that it is a love story. And the character who tells us, Jonah, isn’t lying. But this is an odd romance, as much about grief for lost parents and a search for identity as the peculiar affair that Jonah starts with Sophie. It is to the credit of the production, as well as Porter, that the piece moves and entertains as much as it does. It’s a puzzle how it manages to do either. It’s cute, but also creepy, and loses credibility often.

The romance starts as Jonah watches Sophie in his flat, via a baby monitor. The twist is that she sent him the device. Although he doesn’t know it comes from her, this is still stalking… right? Then, while following Sophie around the streets, which she doesn’t mind, there’s an accident. Jonah holds vigil in hospital and takes over Sophie’s rehabilitation. It should be just disturbing. But, somehow, there are moments that it feels sweet.

Porter complicates his play further with yet more oddity. Sophie’s grief for her father is profound. Jonah’s whole backstory, and his startling naivety, isolate him. The script’s poetic touches, moments of fantasy and obsessive descriptions (in particular, about a TV soap opera) add a claustrophobic feel. It all makes the performances commendable. Abigail Thorn and Joe Pitts do a great job of making us care – and be scared for – the characters. But it also makes it very hard to take them seriously.

Director Simon Paris’ revival does a great job of calming down how strange what’s going on really is. Paris knows this is the key to creating real tension and, for a self-proclaimed romcom. the drama is intense. Blink wants to tackle the idea of parasocial relationships and Sophie talks about “being seen” a lot. Such serious buzzwords can be tedious. But Porter’s skill is to put flesh on the ideas – to show complexity – and the result is a sense of dialogue and an invitation to learn something from the play. It’s a nice surprise, neatly delivered.

Until 22 March 2026

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photo by Charlie Flint

2026

“Bird Grove” at the Hampstead Theatre

Alexi Kaye Campbell’s new play, about the life of Mary Ann Evans before she ‘became’ George Eliot, is admirable in many ways. Focusing on a father and daughter relationship, neatly balancing humour and emotion, it’s a biography that makes a case for its subject’s relevance without straining too hard.

There’s an interesting decision not to give the audience any background, to assume we all know a lot about Eliot. Lazy, maybe? But it frees the script of clunky exposition. And you could easily enjoy Bird Grove without the history. Some might have a bigger problem with how static it all is, although director Anna Ledwich makes an effort to inject energy and the production looks great. Might it be useful to provide more context as to how rebellious Eliot was? How conservative her milieu? A few cheap gags about Coventry seems unfair. But the piece does well to give an impression of the period, avoiding parody despite the verbosity of the characters.

Because what is said is interesting. The arguments between father and daughter are intelligent and Eliot’s views on life and religion investigated. It’s neat to give the best line to her friend: “Love is not a feeling but an intelligence”. I could have done with the interval at that stage to have a good think.

While Eliot’s frequent anger is justified, and always smart, there is a danger we see all debate from her perspective. Yes, it’s hard not to – but the result is that other characters feel flat. It works for the comic relief of Evans’ suitor, a nice role for Jonnie Broadbent. But her brother (Jolyon Coy) and her “purposeful” friends, played by Tom Espiner and Rebecca Scroggs, fail to convince. The always excellent Sarah Woodward is criminally underused as Evans’ former tutor.

Thankfully, there are great parts for the leads. The focus on Eliot’s father is almost strong enough to make him work as a stand-alone figure, and the character’s success is secured by the performance of Owen Teale. But, of course, the show belongs to Eliot, and Elizabeth Dulau is terrific in the role. Making some of these lines sound like natural conversation is an achievement itself. That the ideas are conveyed so clearly and with emotion is even better.

Kaye Campbell’s affection for his subject shines through and is contagious. Like Eliot, he gets a lot of ideas into his fiction, and that is exciting. That the ideas aren’t any kind of revelation might seem a churlish complaint. And pointing out that, for all the writing’s sophistication, it is strong performances that secure the piece’s success, may appear meanspirited. But Bird Grove is smart enough to give us a hero without hagiography – a tricky task accomplished stylishly.

Until 21 March 2026

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson