Gloria Williams takes a more decided position on good and evil in the world premiere of her play King Hamlin at the Park Theatre in which an almost inevitable decline into crime is born out of poverty, desperation and class as the protagonist becomes an all-too-aware if unwilling participant in his own destruction.
At its best, the subjective and poetic image creation in Rockets and Blue Lights at the National Theatre is both audacious and striking. At its worst, it is over-complex, confusing and overly didactic.
BBC Radio’s Lockdown Theatre Festival, curated by Bertie Carvel, highlights productions cut short by broadcasting them with the original casts, albeit in an audio format only.
Ella Road’s resonant new play about genetics, The Phlebotomist, is mostly well-written and gets an exciting staging.
Under Sam Yates’ direction The Phlebotomist is a spirited page-turner of a tale, with some marvellous leads. Drop a couple of unnecessary scenes and it would be an electrically thrilling 100-minutes-no-interval, giving us no respite from a satisfyingly likely dystopia. Brrr.
Br’er Cotton is an exemplary play that both honours the memories of those murdered by the state without repercussions, and presents the issues at hand with a care that respects their complexity.
It’s hot. Real hot. And you’re dancing, just lost in music. You’re at the legendary Shrine nightclub in Lagos, where Afrobeat star Fela Kuti is king. It’s 1994. And it’s hot. Sweat is just pouring off you, no longer in little trickles but soaking through your clothes.