by Maeve Campbell
Leaving the Royal Court after watching Ellie Kendrick’s new play Hole, I overhear another audience member describe feeling like she has just been “hit over the head with a sledgehammer”. It’s a pretty apt description.
by Laura Kressly
At the start of the millennium, Deborah is a teenager living on the edge of East London with her silent father and zealous Mormon mother. She feels suffocated by religion when she starts secondary school. But as she gets stuck into this new world, she meets Vyper and discovers Dizzee Rascal. Once her mind and her talent are unlocked by these two forces, her life is irrevocably changed for better and worse.
by guest critic Amy Toledano
Walking into the Royal Court to see Rory Mullarkey’s new show Pity, one is welcomed by a full brass band, a working ice-cream stand and a heck of a lot of colour. The energy in the room is buzzing but has a slight edge. From the first moment it is evident that this show is going to be a new theatre experience for me.
By guest critic Gregory Forrest
I swear to God the Theatre Upstairs is gonna give me an aneurism. An explosion. Pitch black. Shouts and screams and gunfire. The immediate sense of panic is all consuming, and I don’t blame one lady for having to bow out of Cordelia Lynn’s startling new play One For Sorrow.
by Laura Kressly
A woman stands on a pastel blue stage and starts at the beginning. She tells us a love story – how she met a man in an airport, fell in love and built a life with him. Great jobs, a family, a house, the full works. It’s perfect. Until it’s not.
by Laura Kressly
A newborn lamb lies on the ground. It’s dead. It’s mother will soon follow, but there are others that are still alive or yet to be born, and they need help. Bec and Anna fight for the survival of these tiny creatures as if their lives depend on it.
by NY guest critic Steven Strauss
American dramaphiles tend to view Britain as a hotbed of hyper-verbal and hyper-intellectual plays, especially in comparison to our home-bred musicals that often lack the same resonant depth. This is of course a gross over-generalization with countless exceptions, but personally, I became a card-carrying theatrical anglophile thanks to the massive transatlantic influx of Stoppardian texts in which characters talk talk talk about Serious and Important Ideas.
