Excellent revival of Lucy Prebble’s disturbing debut play The Sugar Syndrome about loneliness, the internet and illegal desire.
A fine revival of Lucy Prebble’s first play The Sugar Syndrome features a strong debut performance from Jessica Rhodes at the Orange Tree Theatre.
Believe in ideas? David Baddiel’s new play God’s Dice stars Alan Davies as a scientist drawn to religion.
Phillip Breen’s lively revival of John Vanburgh’s Restoration romp, The Provoked Wife, for the Royal Shakespeare Company, has glorious parts for both Caroline Quentin and Alexandra Gilbreath.
British theatre’s amour fou for Florian Zeller continues apace with another of his comedies making it over to London but are we approaching diminishing returns as we delve deeper into his back catalogue?
Alexander Hanson joins the company of the English-language premiere of Florian Zeller’s The Lie, playing the husband of his real-life spouse Samantha Bond.
James Dreyfus, Tony Gardner and Alexandra Gilbreath join Samantha Bond in the English-language premiere of Florian Zeller’s The Lie at the Menier Chocolate Factory in September.
I only booked for Dessert at the Southwark Playhouse because of the extraordinary Alexandra Gilbreath, one of our finest – and somewhat unheralded – actors.
Christine Edzard will be writing and directing a new version of The Good Soldier Schwejk, based on the satirical Czech novel by Jaroslav Hašek, and creating a daring theatrical and filmic experience.
Published in serial form, The Good Soldier Schwejk became an instant success.
Following on from his success with Daytona at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket, Oliver Cotton, has written a new play for our time, Dessert, at Southwark Playhouse from 12 July 2017 – 5 August 2017.
Even with the best of intentions, it can be a little too easy to forget that there’s more to LGBT+ than just the G. Representations of gay men are increasingly common in our theatres but pickings are slim if we look towards the lesbian, bi, and transgender characters and stories.
In light of Roman Tragedies reminding us of the vast potential of what Shakespeare can be rather than the tendency towards the ‘proper’ readings of his work that we tend to get here in the UK (vast generalisations I know, but can you really argue against it…), it’s gratifying to see directors, and venues, taking the opportunity to stretch those traditional notions.
I’ll go anywhere for Alexandra Gilbreath and given that The Rover had the added bonus of Joseph Millson, the trip was a no-brainer.
Since I got back from my month of remote working in Mallorca, I’ve been lucky enough to pack in lots of trips to the theatre, including this quintuplet of limited season plays that are all worth a look. As usual, I’ve listed productions in closing date order, and the first on the list finishes this Saturday, so don’t delay if you want to see it…
“When I was growing up the poor were seen as unfortunates. Now they’re seen as manipulative. Grasping. Scroungers. It’s very sad.” So reflects Shaun (Niall Buggy), a charming, penniless old Irishman with more than a touch of the blarney, facing yet another Kafka-esque nightmare negotiating with the sullen, unyielding bosom of our Housing and Benefits systems in Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s The Invisible. On the day of the Budget, when the latest plans for supposedly solving society’s biggest problems have been touted across every media channel, it’s always tempting for pub philosophers and armchair politicians to make sweeping judgements and dangerously inhumane generalisations; we all have our private theories of blame and retribution for the taxpayer’s burden. The Invisible reminds us that, inside those synthetic statistics, thousands of real individuals – vulnerable, defenceless and alone – uniquely suffer the consequences of each government’s so-called solutions. If the problems they encounter are legal ones, recourse to free help is now dwindling fast, thanks to swingeing cuts to our Justice sector meted out by Grayling and Gove. Hence, these victims become The Invisible: the poorest and weakest in our society, whose voice can quietly stopped by lack of representation or, simply, despair.