By Joanna Trainor
My money is on the squid in a squid versus whale fight.
London
Sticky Door, VAULT Festival
by Joanna Trainor
Disclaimer: Good reviewing practice is not to put yourself into your article – your review is about the show, not the journalist. But I have such an emotional connection to Katie Arnstein’s work, that I struggle to write about her productions as ‘objectively’ as I perhaps should. It’s probably why it’s taken me so long to put pen to paper.
Rhubarb and custard sweets, a ukulele, placards, and a voiceover montage of misogynistic statements that make you oh so angry – all signs point to the final installment of Katie Arnstein’s It’s A Girl! trilogy.
The Wild Unfeeling World, VAULT Festival
by Joanna Trainor
“Call me Ishmael.”
There are storytellers, and then there’s Casey Jay Andrews. This is Moby Dick like you’ve never heard it before, but for an epic tale there’s something at the heart of The Wild Unfeeling World that is wholly relatable.
Frankie Foxstone aka The Profit, VAULT Festival
by Matthew McGregor-Morales
What’s the cost of progress? Are big, shiny, new-building complexes really progression at all? These questions are at the heart of a raging battle for London’s soul, and Frankie Foxstone couldn’t give a shit about the answers.
I Wanna Be Yours, Bush Theatre
by Laura Kressly
Ella works three jobs whilst trying to forge a career as an actor in London, but misses the slower pace of her hometown of Hebden Bridge. Haseeb is a Muslim factory worker and writer from Cricklewood who is tired of the whiteness in the poetry scene. Though the two meet in a drama workshop that Ella’s, time passes and their love grows. Yet, it’s not enough to compensate for their differences in privilege. This ever-growing elephant in the room becomes harder and harder for the couple to ignore.
We Anchor in Hope, The Bunker
by Laura Kressly
It’s the last night to have a drink at the Anchor before it’s sold to developers who will turn it into luxury flats or a Pret A Manger. Landlord Kenny, his staff and a couple of locals are celebrating the end of an era by drinking the bar dry, but the more they drink, the more their secrets threaten to ruin the good memories of a local community.
World’s End, King’s Head Theatre
by Laura Kressly
It’s 1998, 19-year-old Ben and his mum Viv are moving house again. This time, they’re cramming all their belongings into a one-bedroom ex-council flat in World’s End, Chelsea. They quickly make friends with their neighbours, Ylli and his son Besnik, who are Albanian refugees. The aspirational Viv is unfazed by the move but quiet and high-strung Ben can’t cope. He’s determined to shut himself away with his Nintendo, but the charming and confident Besnik has other ideas.
Justice, Blue Elephant Theatre
by Laura Kressly
Michael and his best mate Charlie are typical teenage boys – they just want to hang out and play Fifa and party. Michael’s patient girlfriend Liv is often at their side, his mum is there to fret and nag, and his half-brother Josh reliably winds him up. They’re 17 and life is good – until it isn’t.
Does My Bomb Look Big in This?, Soho Theatre
by Laura Kressly
Aisha and Morgan have to go to school one day in August, like almost every other 16-year-old in the country, to collect their GCSE results. Their school is different from the rest of the country’s though – news teams are at the gates of Mitcham High reporting on the recent disappearance of Yasmin Sheikh, dubbed ‘terror baby’ by the Home Secretary. Frustrated with her best friend’s depiction in the media and the way she has been treated by the police after Yasmin left for Syria, Aisha is determined to tell the story of the girl behind the headlines and enlists Morgan’s help.
Work Bitch, VAULT Festival
by Joanna Trainor
Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.
Jessica Siân opens Work Bitch with an utterly manic laugh. The awful kind of laugh you develop when you have to laugh or you’ll cry. This is a proper tragicomedy at its core. The intelligent writing makes you laugh at these larger than life characters, all played by Siân, and then hits you with the added details – like the expression of the cook, who works every shift he can, when he thinks no one’s watching.
