by Marc Hayes
Meaning ‘father’, the word Pah-La is also inflected with a term of respect; ‘La’ is a sign of formality, and becomes more like ‘Dear Father’ in a crude translation. It is a richly ironic title then. Pah-La takes aim at the social and emotional structures of patriarchal revenge, and explores a radically non-violent alternative.
by Laura Kressly
At the start of what seems to be a fairytale, we meet Nour and Yumna in their tiny house. They have just enough space for the two of them and all the things they need. Though Yumna’s ears don’t work, she’s teaching her language to the little girl she’s raising on behalf of her best friend whose gone to make a new life in a faraway land. They are happy, want for nothing, and their days are full of light, love and stories. But the bombs are getting closer, the men with guns are ever more threatening, and Nour’s mother could send for her at any point.
by Louis Train
When I told my mother I was moving to Russia, she sighed and reminded me that to her, Eastern Europe was a cemetery. Her grandparents had fled during the Russian Civil War, and her parents had grown up watching details of the Holocaust emerge, night by night, like a dark beacon announcing the violent and final end of Jewish life in Eastern Europe.
by Laura Kressly
In 2015, Dr Rosy Carrick was in Russia researching the life and work of Vladimir Mayakovsky as part of her PhD. On an otherwise a normal day, she receives a note from herself. It’s rather different from the usual reminders her past self leaves her future self, like ‘phone mum’ or ‘pack daughter’s PE kit’. Dated 1928, she has written to her past self – due to incorrect calculations and broken equipment, future Rosy implores present Rosy to build a time machine to rescue her.
by Christina Bulford
Grief is something that we must all experience at some point in our lives, but that fact alone does not in any way prepare us for it.
by Amy Toledano
What does someone do when the person they have spent their entire life with disappears? When does the decline of a life begin? Is it with the first grey hairs, or when you first starting receiving your pension?
by Laura Kressly
Roger’s an average guy down on his luck, living with his girlfriend after being made redundant and wishing he could see his son more. Still bitter about his divorce and losing his job, he passes time wondering aimlessly around the internet. When he emerges from a youtube rabbit hole that led him to the user Angry Alan, Roger feels like he’s woken from a long sleep. The Men’s Rights Movement has gained another disciple.
by Romy Foster
Silent Faces’ new show brings harmony between goofiness and grief. Their playfulness is infectious and the audience can’t help themselves but to giggle at the absurdity (and tea!) being fed to them over the hour.
by Laura Kressly
CW: suicide and self-harm
Mossy is only 22 but he’s tired of life. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s nothing more than this, so the best option is to call it a day and kill himself. His only concern is that his mum won’t be able to afford his funeral, so he convinces his reluctant mates to launch a fundraising campaign before he goes. Touching on toxic masculinity, male friendship, euthanasia and voyeuristic media consumption, this new script has some clumsy writing but the themes that propel the action forward to a surprising end smartly support the story of friendship.
by Louis Train
“Fuck me, these exotic birds are well shaggable!”
…is actually one of the more enlightened lines in Tom Wright’s new play, My Dad’s Gap Year, under the direction of Rikki Beadle-Blair. Part giddy romp and part failed attempt at progressive theatre, Gap Year’s greatest accomplishment is proving that – solidarity be damned! – LGBT art can be thoughtless, regressive, and ignorant.
The Play's The Thing UK 