Brush up on your horse impression kids; Joan of Arc has come to town. Oh Joany Joan Joan. Joany McJoaningtons. I've been trying to work out how to review this show for almost a week, although I admittedly took four days off over Easter to stare into space, take a...
Everybody had a dream. When we were kids, we all had dreams of doing something with our lives. I wanted to be a pilot; others wanted to be doctors, actors or lawyers. Some achieve their dreams. Many don't. And some people get to come home, flop on the sofa after...
Hands up if you've ever felt sad? Or fat? Yeah, I thought so. Oh Le Gateau Chocolat, we meet at last. Back in the annals of time when I used to work in PR, I was on the press team for a little show called Blanc de Blanc by Strut...
Never have I laughed more than when reading a website of mis-translations with my brother as a teenager. Highlights included such classics as: “Tiny grass is dreaming”, “Itty Bitty Baby" and the undeniable champion, “The Loin King” (Hakuna My-groina). The well of hilarious translation errors may be well tapped on...
It's tempting to write something completely unrelated for the next 500 words. Just not talk about the play at all. Maybe chat about the weather! Or Article 50! Because Custody is so good, I don't want to spoil it for you. I don't want to hype it up, or give...
If you are a wobbly great BBC nerd and have an unfortunate proclivity for being star struck, the press night for a play written by a 27-year Have I Got News For You veteran is both a bounteous gift and a terrible curse. Because I am British and middle class,...
Oh man, I'm getting old. I used to be young and cool! I promise! I used to go to drama school and make art house movies that even I didn't actually understand! I used to go to bars in abandoned sheds and talk about incomprehensible theatre with my ironically mustachioed...
Continuing on as normal yesterday felt bizarre. I was at work near St Paul's when one of my colleagues first floated that some alleged…something, some horrible thing, might be happening outside the Houses of Parliament. It was 2:50pm. We spent the rest of the day in a contemplative blur; heads...
Well blow me down and call me Charlie, I think I’m going to have to sell my soul to the devil. When the classist, sexist and maybe xenophobic Satanic antagonist of a show is the only thing that makes it remotely interesting, all my morals go out the window –...