Written by Peter Oswald and Alexander J Gifford ‘after’ an unfinished play by Friedrich Schiller, Dmitry is the story of the much loved, youngest son of the Tzar of Russia who was murdered – or was he?
There is a scene in Eureka Day at the Old Vic during which the audience is roaring with laughter, but it isn’t anything to do with the actors who are on stage or what they are saying. And it isn’t a mistake, it is intended, and it’s a genius scene for a couple of reasons, how the actors carry on regardless and the relatable source of the comedy.
I can now say I’ve seen Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio on stage. OK, so they were on telly on stage, but that is technically on stage. Kate and Leo were in Titanic mode, the favourite film of the son in Who Killed My Father. His homophobic father initially refuses to get him the video for his birthday.
There was a point while watching Monster at the Park Theatre when I realised I had my hand over my mouth. What was unfolding on stage was shocking, and I haven’t had a reaction like that to a play for quite a while.
The play follows Pierre, a successful surgeon who’s married and the father of a grown-up daughter, as he juggles his professional and family life with having a mistress.
Fair Play is set in the world of female athletics. Ann joins a running club, meets Sophie, and the two bond over their love of running.
As the stage was plunged into darkness at the end of Manor on the National Theatre’s Lyttelton stage, I was thinking: What was the point?
Three Kings, beautifully written by Stephen Beresford, gives Andrew Scott even more scope to sprinkle his performance magic. Created especially for the Old Vic’s In Camera season, it is described as a scratch performance but only the lack of embellishments like set and fancy lighting give any sign of this.
Harriet Madeley’s The Colours is a verbatim play based on interviews with people with life-limiting illnesses and those working in palliative care.
Anna at the National Theatre is a taut thriller and an interesting and different play watching experience.
Cillian Murphy and writer Enda Walsh’s collaborations on stage tend to lean towards the surreal and avant-garde and Grief Is The Thing With Feathers is no exception.
Meaningful debate, clever thought and persuasiveness get overshadowed by ego manifested as sneering, sarcasm and physical violence.
It’s a story that sweeps you up in a mixture of warmth, humour and tragedy.
Award-winning writer/director Kat Woods returns to the Edinburgh Fringe with Killymuck. Here she talks about breaking working-class stereotypes – and why you should always perform like it’s press night.
Until recently I was working in the basement of an advertising agency. Oh how the mighty have fallen, as I was once a budding freelance copywriter for the company’s thriving ‘verbal identity’ team, having blagged my way in with no experience, just when the BBC had bought one of my TV comedy scripts. I was as an American agent once described ‘ packing some heat.’