Review: Catharsis, Bread and Roses Theatre
A slow-burn family reckoning that promises catharsis but settles for confrontation - engaging enough in the moment without ever quite leaving a lasting mark.Rating
Ok
Catharsis at the Bread & Roses Theatre is a compact, confrontation-led three-hander that delivers a steady, if ultimately unremarkable, evening of drama. Written by Bob Hillis and directed by Emma Louise-Price, the play centres on Izzy and Jenny – two women in their fifties – who meet to confront their brother Martin, a man they haven’t seen in six years. What follows is a gradual unpacking of past grievances, as long-held tensions are brought, somewhat hesitantly, to the surface.
The structure is neatly circular: it begins in a café and, rather resignedly, ends in one too, drinks in hand. While the title suggests emotional release, what we actually get is prolonged confrontation without much sense of resolution. There’s relief, perhaps, in finally saying things out loud, but little that feels genuinely transformative. The writing drip-feeds information effectively enough to sustain interest, but the emotional payoff never quite lands – what builds as potential catharsis settles instead into something flatter and more inconclusive.
The characters themselves feel rooted in a distinctly middle-class, slightly artsy world. Izzy is a writer, and the suggestion that she may turn these events into a play introduces an interesting meta-theatrical thread. It adds a layer of self-awareness to the piece, even if it doesn’t fully deepen or reshape the audience’s understanding of what we’ve just seen.
Performance-wise, there’s clear commitment. Corinne Strickett and Adie Mueller convincingly convey the shared history between Izzy and Jenny, balancing restraint with flashes of anger. Christopher Lyne’s Martin remains more elusive, which at times makes the central conflict feel one-sided. The confrontation itself does eventually reach a physical climax with a genuinely shocking moment: a hard, unmistakably real slap from Jenny that jolts both Martin and the audience. It’s one of the few moments that cuts through the play’s otherwise measured tone.
Staging is minimal and functional, but not without its drawbacks. The limitations of the space mean full blackouts aren’t quite achievable, leaving the audience to watch as furniture is reset between scenes. Rather than feeling seamless, these transitions slightly undercut the illusion and lend the production a more amateur edge than intended.
There’s also a noticeable generational slant. The themes of long-held resentment and familial reckoning clearly resonated with the largely older audience on the night. As a younger viewer, it remained interesting to observe, but didn’t quite connect on a deeper level.
Catharsis is by no means a bad piece of theatre. It’s coherent, well-acted, and intermittently engaging – but it never quite rises above being an okay watch. That said, its intimacy and focus on performance do make it a quietly absorbing piece in moments, even if it never fully delivers on its emotional promise.
Written by: Bob Hillis
Directed by: Emma Louise-Price
Catharsis has completed its current run.




