A bare footed lady, head to foot in black, slowly walks from behind us to the stage. It’s a compelling sight to open any play. But it’s not the first thing that stands out for Everything Theatre’s first visit to Ram Jam Records in Kingston. Before the show even starts there is the delight of discovering this venue, hidden away behind the Grey Horse Pub, just a couple of minutes’ walk from both bus and train stations. For a lover of good ...

Drag theatre is an increasingly broad church and here it is used to serious political effect at Omnibus Theatre’s 96 Festival of queer theatre, which celebrates the iconic 1996 Pride party on nearby Clapham Common.  The drag, for fans, delivers. Lip syncing, pop covers, gay culture references (including a welcome nod to Kenneth Williams), fan dances and wounded glamour are all present and correct.  Everything looks divine too. Sam Wilde and Elizabeth Harper’s set design, in a reconfigured Omnibus auditorium, is ...

Mark (Sam Frenchum) is from a typical East End family, working class to the core.  Except Mark has gone off the rails with too many drugs, and has been kicked out of the family home.  After the death of his dad his mum (Sarah Finigan) wants him home, because after all, family is everything and it’s his duty to be at the front of the funeral; people have to see him there to show the family strength.  The problem is ...

Michel de Montaigne, the 16th century writer and philosopher, was a complex character. He invented the essay form – his ‘essais’ being ‘tryouts’, as he explains – to set down his thoughts on a vast range of topics. He wrote over 100 essays, on subjects as diverse as anger, virtue, vanity, smells, sleep, solitude, pedantry and drunkenness. In this one-man show Jonathan Hansler plays Montaigne to powerful effect, welcoming us as English visitors into his library and regaling us with ...

Have you ever moved to a new house or workplace and gone past the place you left, soon after? It’s something like feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, but finding it’s not there. These feelings struck me as I sat on the Piccadilly Line and passed straight through Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square and Covent Garden on a theatre night without getting off. I was heading to deepest darkest North London for a performance at Chickenshed. A short walk from ...

I wanted to love this show so much, because of the subject matter. And certainly, the bravery of real Vicky in the hateful climate of the 80s, and the support she received in her journey is stirring stuff! But a play is not comprised of themes alone, it is writing, acting, lighting, directing and a host of infinitesimally small things. It is in the realisation of its themes that Call me Vicky falls down. There is an issue of timing ...

Certain theatres have a mystique, a marque of quality that sets them apart; an assumption that a play must be good if it’s running there. The National Theatre, Royal Court and Shakespeare’s Globe are three such examples. Add to that list the Young Vic, just down the road from its older sibling in Waterloo. Like many modern theatres, the bar is set to the front entrance, creating a great atmosphere as you go in. The performance area is arranged amphitheatre ...

With a small cast, the action takes place in the modest kitchen-living room of dysfunctional husband and wife Tam (Charlie Brooks) and Martin (Simon Lipkin), as they struggle to care for their severely autistic and non-verbal child, Laurence. Also in the equation is Laurence’s carer of two years, Gary (Michael Fox), who is both a blessing but also a constant reminder of the couple’s own failings as parents. The play has received a barrage of negative press for its representation ...

Playwright James Saunders presents us with a classic scenario. A younger couple and an older couple gather together in a living-room, having not seen each other for nine years. Each spouse has cheated with the spouse of the other, and no-one is really sure why they agreed to meet. Chaos ensues; drama is born. This is the first staging of Bodies since 1979. Certainly Saunders is not a playwright I’ve encountered much in my long and lovely affair with drama. ...

Like the abusive marriage that it describes, Bottled starts off deceptively sweet. It is Katy’s 15th birthday, and she’s celebrating at home with family and her mum’s boyfriend, some shiny balloons and a violently pink cake. As she talks us through the scene, describing the characters and their part in her life, the commentary is wry and perceptive, a healthy mix of childish candour and teenage snark. When, shortly after that birthday party, she hooks up with Bradley, a hot, ...