by Laura Kressly
In May, the new Poet Laureate will be announced and Luke Wright thinks he’s up for the job. I agree. His lyrical, immediate collection of poems confronting modern Britain’s ills and praising its everyday heroes is a body of work that conveys an understanding and love for the intricacies of the nation.
by Lauren Gauge
Written with deft humour, Mouthpiece is a sharp scalpel used to dissect the highly sensitive and nuanced issues of representation, consent, agency and the ongoing ignorance between the opposing ends of the class system.
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 Laura Kressly
Neil is a fragile music journalist who hasn’t reconciled with his lack of success as a musician when he is kidnapped by ageing gangster Danny Machin. Danny wants Neil to write a moving exposé explaining that at heart, he’s a decent sort of chap. As Neil and Danny get to know each other in a remote Irish cabin, Neil’s past mistakes are revealed, along with his childhood friendship with a lad who went on to become an internationally renowned rockstar.
By Amy Toledano
Cuckoo by Lisa Carroll has all the elements of a wonderful coming-of-age story. Set in a small Irish town, this play packs many a punch, giving us a raw look at what it means to not fit in, to feel lonely in your hometown and how as a teenager, the need to be liked can seem more important than anything else.
by an anonymous guest critic
A masterclass in one-woman storytelling, Pickle Jar is delicately told in the intimate setting upstairs in Soho Theatre. Staged on a minimalist set with potted plants in various locations, the setting gives little away of what the journey is we are about to experience. This places more pressure on the performer to create the world for us, but she certainly delivers.
by Maeve Campbell
Karen Cogan begins her one-woman show floppy and lifeless looking, slumped over a grubby sofa bed. This is an uncomfortable image to pre-show chat in front of and it sets the mood for the proceeding work. Drip Feed is Brenda’s story, a ‘youngish’ queer woman living in Cork, inhabited by insular, parochial and judgemental residents. Brenda, though, is ‘part of the furniture’ of the city, but seems both in love with and restricted by it.
