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The last two Saturdays have brought me to Chichester for my first two productions of the new spring/summer season – so what better to pair together in this post? Two ostensibly different plays, tailored perfectly to their auditorium of choice, but I suppose the one thread that runs between them is that of grief; its manifestation and after-effects in Magic, and the build-up to it in Eclipse.

As well as writing Magic, David Haig stars as Arthur Conan Doyle opposite Hadley Fraser as Harry Houdini – on the face of it the oddest of odd couples, but their shared fascination with spiritualism brings them together in 1920. Whilst Conan Doyle is fully signed up to the cause, Houdini is more sceptical and sets off on a hunt for tangible evidence, ultimately affecting their relationship forever.

In Eclipse, we see the lead-up to the death of Sarah (Sarah Parish) & Jonathan’s (Rupert Penry-Jones) father, as his carers and nearest & dearest gather to say their final farewells. Amidst this impending bereavement, there is an unexpected reunion that serves as a distraction – but whether it’s a welcome or unwelcome one remains to be seen.

Magic, Chichester Festival Theatre

A story that is entirely suited to the stage, given the theatrical heart of the story – both Houdini’s feats of magic & escapology, and the unlikely pair’s attendance at séances. Incorporating the very front row into the performance itself is a fun touch, and must keep the company on their toes depending on the willingness of those patrons to play along. It’s a pertinent story for our current age of rejecting experts and not worrying about a lack of evidence, although it’s clear in this case that Conan Doyle’s enthusiasm was triggered by a deep-seated grief over his son Kingsley’s death in the First World War.

John Bulleid’s illusion design is a wonderful inclusion in the production, allowing Houdini to treat us to some of his own magic – and it also makes some of the scene transitions more interesting, especially as there’s also a revolve that can come into play. This ties in neatly with Lucy Bailey’s direction, and all takes place on a set brilliantly designed by Joanna Parker (whose costumes are also excellent).

David Haig and Hadley Fraser make a formidable double act as the spiritualist and spiritualism-curious Conan Doyle and Houdini; Fraser is fired up and full of energy, determined to seek the truth, and Haig gives a very sympathetic performance. It would be easy to portray Conan Doyle as a figure of ridicule, given his curious hobbies & interests that followed in the wake of his Sherlock Holmes success, but that never happens.

My verdict? A spellbinding production – entertaining & thought-provoking.

Magic ran at the Chichester Festival Theatre until 16 May 2026.

Eclipse, Minerva Theatre

Although I’m sure it’s a pretty accurate representation of a family facing the final hours of a loved one’s life, I don’t know if it makes for a decent piece of theatre. The sheer volume of repetition in such a compressed production gets irritating rather swiftly, and writer/director John Morton’s unwillingness to properly explore the dramatic tangents that are available to him means it’s almost impossible to connect with the characters on an emotional level. And just when you think they’re getting somewhere, there’s a completely unnecessary interval. I can only surmise that it’s been inserted for financial reasons, as there’s no big set change or cliffhanger at the point where they stop – so 90 minutes becomes 110, and any tension that’s been built is lost in that stoppage.

Simon Higlett’s design is stunning, and something to really revel in; to bring a country cottage kitchen and garden into the Minerva auditorium is quite a feat. The soundscape from Ed Clarke also adds to this, with various twittering of birds in the background creating the right atmosphere.

Sarah Parish outshines Rupert Penry-Jones, with an understated but relatable performance as Sarah, the daughter who stayed in the village where they grew up; Penry-Jones, though believable as the brother who left for the city life, doesn’t feel as confident a stage performer as his colleagues. Lizzie Hopley is a lot of fun as the hyper-chatty carer Linda.

My verdict? An aesthetically pleasing production, but lacking in emotional depth.

Eclipse runs at the Minerva Theatre until 6 June 2026 – tickets are available online or from the box office.

In the days before the curated Instagram profile, the preferred method of performative living for the middle classes was the dinner party; they’re the ideal way of showing off your affluence and achievements in the safety of your own home, whilst potentially making powerful social connections (if your guests bring interesting plus ones). Based on this idea, Moira Buffini’s Dinner was first staged at the National Theatre in 2002 before transferring to the Wyndham’s for a West End run the following year – this production at Omnibus Theatre, directed by David Fairs & Conor O’Kane, is its first major London revival.

To celebrate the success of her husband’s latest book, Paige has thrown the dinner party to end all dinner parties. Her guest list has been deliberately designed to bring an interesting combination of characters together, and the menu is entirely her own creation – she has even hired a waiter for the night to ensure everything goes smoothly. But even before it begins it’s clear that there’s more riding on this evening than Paige is letting on to her husband and guests. What secrets will the night reveal?

Although Buffini’s play doesn’t stipulate any particular time setting, this production is firmly set in 2002 – not only does this fit with the time that the play was originally staged, but it also allows us a bit of distance to consider how things compare a couple of decades on. There’s also no need to bring the play completely up-to-date, as it serves the narrative better for some practical reasons – for example, the internet was slightly less ubiquitous in 2002 than it is now, and not everyone had a phone on their person (or any other kind of similar device). The concept of the play also holds up very well, as a dinner party is the perfect device to bring a disparate set of personalities together without it feeling contrived; add in the fog that has enveloped the house, and every Agatha Christie fan knows that it won’t be long before something happens.

The production does feel like it loses a bit of momentum on occasion, such as when the characters get bogged down in discussions of the topics in Lars’ book, but on the whole it is well paced and flows nicely. The introduction of the unexpected guest is well timed, adding an extra little something to the established dynamic of the group and giving the audience more to consider. The scene transitions also work pretty well – these surreal breakout moments bring us a selection of tunes from the time, as well as a moment to decompress from some intense exchanges. Re-setting the stage could be a little more slick at times, but this will likely develop as the run progresses. And talking of the stage, Tara Usher’s design is very aesthetically pleasing; the Japanese style dining room and kimono-clad waiter are presumably a nod to this Paige’s heritage, but it does also bring to mind a 2003 film which hints at what may or may not come to pass later on.

An excellent cast has been assembled for this production. Talitha Christina has great presence as the silent but efficient waiter, and both Oliver Maynard & Clarisse Zamba have superb comic timing as Hal & Sian. As a character, erotic artist Wynne is often accidentally funny (and several times the butt of the joke) – this is skilfully played by Rebecca Joy Wilson, a particularly memorable sequence coming when the other guests’ language starts to become more tinged in blue. Initially Matt Mowat presents Lars as a regular husband to a high maintenance wife, but as time goes on Mowat brings the pseudo-philosopher out front & centre to show just how much Lars believes his own hype. Theo Woolford comes close to stealing the show as the roguish Welsh gatecrasher Mike, who gets a chance to see how the other half live when he’s surprisingly invited to the table. Although she’s not always likeable, Paige is an excellent character who has the ability to be blunt & unfeeling as well as clinically passive aggressive; Matsume Kai makes the role her own as she brings all facets of Paige to the fore, driving events relentlessly towards their conclusion.

A very well-conceived and well-realised revival of this black comedy – definitely worth a trip to see at this underrated gem of a theatre.

My verdict? Brilliant performances all round in this revival of Moira Buffini’s darkly comic play.

Rating: 4*

Dinner runs at the Omnibus Theatre until 24 May 2026. Tickets are available online or from the box office.

Not content with the sheer volume of Beatles output (the latest being The Beatles Anthology on Disney+), it seems to be time for Brian Epstein to be put under the spotlight. James Norton is set to play him in Sam Mendes’ Beatles films, Philip Norman’s new biography (Mr Moonlight) will be released next month, and there is an upcoming documentary about his life from director Clare Lewins – but first of all, Tom Wright’s new play Please Please Me at the Kiln Theatre.

Brian Epstein finds himself back in Liverpool working for the family business, except he’s managed to convince his father to let him take charge of the record department of NEMS (North End Music Stores) as he’s become something of an aficionado – especially when it comes to the latest acts to cater to the city’s youth. One day he finds himself pulled towards The Cavern, and is immediately struck by the star power of local band The Beatles; despite having no experience, he offers to be their manager and takes it upon himself to make sure they’re looked after on their way to the top. But is it the band that’s more important to him, or one John Winston Lennon..?

The main issue with this play is its distinct lack of focus. With a running time of 2h10 including a 20-minute interval, it just doesn’t have time to do all of the things it probably should do (or at least appears it wants to do); although the compact running time mirrors the relative briefness of Epstein’s music management career, it’s far less impactful than the man himself ultimately was. Either take a leaf out of Born With Teeth‘s book and go full-on Lennon x Epstein fan-fiction, or make a better go of telling the audience about the highs & lows of his career – Cilla Black was much more prominent in his life than the play suggests, for example, and there were so many other acts on his roster in such a short space of time that warrant a mention. As it is, you really need to have done a bit of pre-reading to fill in the gaps or get the timeline clear in your head.

I would advocate for expanding the play slightly, so you can adequately fit these elements in and have time to explore them properly; it would also be nice to have an additional female cast member, so one plays Cynthia & Cilla and the other plays Aunt Mimi & Queenie Epstein (Brian’s mother) – at the moment the latter doesn’t even feature, despite her importance in his life. It might also mean that the dramatic discovery of his premature death is conveyed better, rather than having him hurtling off from Sussex to London in his car one minute and the curtains being pulled the next; at that point, anyone who doesn’t know the story would probably presume he died in a car crash under the influence of drink & drugs.

This, of course, isn’t a documentary – it’s a fiction drawn from the truth. With that in mind, I’m absolutely open to the mish-mashing of events and either combining multiple people into one character or missing some out entirely (e.g. Brian’s younger brother Clive), as this allows the writer to build a dramatic narrative that works with a minimal cast. It’s not always necessary to invent certain things, however, such as having Cilla fire Brian when in reality it never went that far. This is presumably meant to demonstrate the stress Epstein was under (helping to explain his reliance on barbiturates), but audiences are generally capable of picking up on little details without requiring big stand-offs ramming them down their throats. I’m also not sure why a couple of David Shrubsole’s compositions sound like reworked versions of The End and Because, as they’re from Abbey Road – recorded & released in 1969, two years after Brian’s death.

Omitting the My Bonnie moment (the widely accepted catalyst for Epstein seeking The Beatles out in the first place), instead having Brian wander past The Cavern and just getting drawn inside, seems to suggest that Tom Wright wants us to see Epstein as some kind of 60s music messiah – rather than just a canny businessman doing whatever it took to make a sale. Despite Epstein’s obvious importance in the music industry, this does perhaps feel a little over the top. Some of Wright’s dialogue, too, is really awkward to listen to; whilst Epstein did refer to The Beatles as “the boys”, he does it so much in the short space of time that is Please Please Me that it would be ripe for a drinking game – however tasteless that might appear. Him frequently being referred to as “Eppy” also gets very wearing very quickly.

Tom Piper’s set design is one of the highlights of the production, with The Cavern performance area often looming large in the background and a large NEMS sign displayed above the stage. There are moments where Rory Beaton’s lighting design combines with certain elements of the set to create real atmosphere – the first time Epstein encounters Lennon in The Cavern is a prime example. Amit Sharma’s direction and Jess Williams’ movement direction do inject some dynamism into proceedings, particularly in some scene transitions and early on when Brian is wheeling & dealing.

The cast of five work immensely hard, with William Robinson & Arthur Wilson seemingly popping up as a different character in every other scene at times. Eleanor Worthington-Cox is at her best when playing Cilla, from a powerful performance of You’re My World (making the lack of other musical performance feel very conspicuous) to her sibling-like relationship with Brian.

Calam Lynch (Brian) and Noah Ritter (John) bear no physical resemblance to their characters – Ritter would actually make a great Liam Gallagher if The Battle makes a return – but if you close your eyes and just listen to their voices, it sounds as if Epstein and Lennon are in the room with you. At no point do their performances feel like impersonations, instead they definitively make their characters their own. There’s obviously more scope for a character arc for Lynch as Brian, going from shy but confident at NEMS to an ostentatious man on the edge by 1967, but within the restrictions of the writing Ritter does demonstrate some change in John over the same timeframe.

The production is not as fab as it could have been, but there are some excellent performances and hopefully it does enough to spark people’s interest in Epstein’s story – just in time for the new films and book.

My verdict? Its lack of focus makes it a less fab prospect than it should be – some winning performances nonetheless.

Rating: 2*

Please Please Me runs at Kiln Theatre until 29 May 2026. Tickets are available online or from the box office. 

Opera producer Ellen Kent has had an illustrious career, taking many different opera and ballet productions around the UK for the past three decades – bringing Eastern European talent over to share their talents. On this farewell tour, she has mounted three different operatic productions with Opera International Kyiv: La traviata, Carmen and Madama Butterfly. From 21 to 23 April 2026 they will play on consecutive nights at Richmond Theatre.

The youthful Micaela arrives at a square in Seville, looking for corporal Don José to pass on a letter from his mother; on discovering that he won’t be there until the changing of the guard, she declines to stay and wait for him. He and Zuniga (his superior) arrive not long after, almost coinciding with the cigarette factory girls coming out for their break – the fiery Carmen is part of this group, and is soon causing havoc by trying to seduce the initially uninterested Don José. When she is later apprehended for causing a brawl in the factory, he finally gives in to her charms and is arrested & jailed for a month as a result. Things become complicated later on, as the celebrated toreador Escamillo instantly falls for Carmen upon meeting her. With Don José freed and converted to a life of crime, will his relationship with Carmen stand the test of time?

Georges Bizet’s masterpiece premièred in Paris in 1875 at the Opéra-Comique, and features a libretto written by Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halévy (based on Prosper Mérimée’s novella of the same name). Across its four acts it contains some of the best known pieces in the classical canon, such as the Habanera and the Toreador Song; outside of the opera house, the overture is probably best known as the music played when Formula 1 drivers have their champagne moment on the podium after each race. Despite an initial feeling of indifference towards it, Carmen has become incredibly popular and it’s little surprise that it was picked as part of the roster for this tour.

With the advertising promising a “stunning set” which showcases the “magnificent architecture of Seville with its Roman and Moorish influences”, what actually awaits the audience is nothing short of disappointing. The basic cardboard cutout-esque set does little to inspire, and actually cramps the large ensemble for room on Richmond’s stage – sizzling Spain it is not. The majority of the costumes are similarly uninspiring (Micaela looks more like a Swiss milkmaid than a Spanish villager), and actually look simply like costumes rather than the characters’ clothes; a couple of Carmen’s outfits and Escamillo’s bullfighting getup are the exceptions rather than the rule. Tellingly, no one is credited with the set or costume design.

Carmen is written in the ‘opéra comique’ style which, rather than literally translating to ‘comic opera’, means that there is some dialogue in between the musical numbers. Although you absolutely do need some levity in tragic stories to enhance the drama & despair, this production veers more on the side of going for laughs wherever possible – this only serves to betray the underlying tragedy that should seep through the majority of the story. One thing that contributes to this is the relative lack of acting ability in the company.

To start with, any form of choreography (be it some kind of dance or fight scene) is performed very deliberately, which has the unfortunate effect of losing any kind of authenticity it might otherwise have had. More often than not, the ensemble in the background don’t seem convinced by themselves, regardless of which scene they are in – it doesn’t give off an air of professionalism, which isn’t ideal when patrons are paying an average of around £50 per ticket.

The lead performers Mariia Davydova (Carmen), Hovhannes Andreasyan (Don Jose), Iurie Gisca (Escamillo), and Viktoriia Melnyk (Micaela) are generally better, but still occasionally hit-and-miss. Their solo vocals are immaculate, however, and in combination with some beautiful musicianship from the orchestra (conducted by Vasyl Vasylenko) they make something that’s wonderful to listen to.

My verdict? Musically it’s very well done, but other elements let down the production as a whole.

Rating: 2*

Carmen (Ellen Kent: The Farewell Tour) was at Richmond Theatre on 22 April 2026 – the next opera in the series will be Madama Butterfly on 23 April 2026. Full details of the tour can be found on the official website.

We’ve probably all seen that clip by now, and have picked our sides. I won’t beat about the bush here: I’m very much Team Lesley Manville.

It’s been really interesting to see the extreme arguments from both sides; the sheer entitlement from some, as well as pushback about Manville saying that she finds it “insulting” – and on the anti-photo angle, American actor Marcia Cross commenting that theatre should be a “sacred space”. I’m always wary of people who are intent on putting theatre up on a pedestal as something more special than other art forms (it’s one reason why I’ve ditched the phrase ‘theatre etiquette’) – whilst you can have a quasi-religious experience if a production really nails it, I don’t believe that is the baseline.

I’d like to take you back to 2012, a.k.a. the year I started regularly attending theatre. Taking photos of the set before the show began was strictly banned, even if you put your programme or ticket up to all but obscure it. As an example of how much it was enforced in some theatres, I tried to take a photo of a Sunny Afternoon ticket on my lap while I was sat in the auditorium and I got told off. They would also say that photos of the set weren’t allowed was for copyright reasons; it was a bit odd but we accepted it, even getting into a weird Twitter spat with David Baddiel about it – at least these days I know that he’s a thoroughly objectionable person, so I have no real regrets about it.

At least these days most theatres seem to be more relaxed about photos in the auditorium, whether they’re of the set or the now ubiquitous programme shot, and I think that’s the way it should be. What they say at The Globe is that once the performers are on the stage you should stop taking pictures, which is a nice clear divide (even if people still think they’re the exception to this rule), and Cabaret is now known for its stickers that are put over the camera lens to deter patrons from breaking the immersive spell – this also handily functions as proof you were there.

Which gets me back onto the curtain call photos. Personally, I’ve never really seen the point in them: production photos (which are obviously far better quality) are readily available online, and at this moment in the show the cast are literally just bowing. Which all but proves that people are doing it to prove they were at the hot show of the season, or in the same room as a really famous actor – whether it goes on social media or they just share it with friends & family, it amounts to the same thing. So the prevalence of star casting definitely doesn’t help.

Where I can understand people getting their phones out is if there’s a little reprise or encore of some kind, as those photos or videos would actually be worth revisiting after the fact – indeed, it’s shows like these which will prompt the cast to encourage audience members to record the moment in some way, so you know you have permission to do it. That is a key point here; we’re living in a society where not being told you can’t do something is taken as being allowed to do it – like people seeing a ‘no smoking’ sign and deciding they can still vape, because that isn’t explicitly mentioned.

So in effect, all that’s needed is clarity in any pre-show announcements and signage. What’s happened at Les Liaisons Dangereuses is that photography of any kind is now banned in the auditorium (and “including the curtain call” is stated), which I understand to a certain extent – but the poor ushers are left waving A3 posters at people who have simply got used to being able to take a quick snap of their programme while they’re in their seats. You can’t even read them properly once you get a few rows back, and the announcement five minutes before curtain up definitely isn’t loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. What could help is a further announcement before the end of the interval, as so many people for whatever reason decide to put their phone on loud during the break and then inevitably receive calls in the second act, so it could help with that as much as the photography issue.

I do wonder how many people have listened to the entirety of Lesley Manville’s interview on Front Row, rather than just that short clip which BBC Radio 4 deliberately shared to create contention. Going by some of the comments I’ve encountered, it can’t be that many at all. If you did, you’d have heard how much empathy she has with young actors coming through in a changing environment, how she welcomes the use of intimacy co-ordinators, and just how much passion she has for her craft. Theatre is the medium which she feels the most affinity with, so is it any wonder she’s protective of it?

Following this viral moment, Front Row brought in David Benedict & Kate Maltby (as theatre critic representatives of The Stage) to respond to Manville’s comments. Maltby made a great point that you’ll often see audience members completely disengaged from the show, but then suddenly on their feet to take a photo at the end. I know of people who will regularly give a show a standing ovation regardless of how they felt about it, just so they could get a good shot to share on socials – as if standing ovations haven’t become a bit of an issue as it is (not every performance needs one, that’s all I’ll say). Her notion that the ever-increasing price tag on a theatre ticket is contributing to this need for evidence of attendance is also a good one; it doesn’t give people extra rights, but it does make it more understandable.

Benedict’s pooh-poohing of Manville saying that she finds it insulting also really wound me up, as it’s not up to him to decide how someone else feels – plus fellow guest Tahmima Anam rightly pointed out that after a three-hour play where the audience are hidden by the stage lights, she might simply want to see their faces rather than a sea of phones. That is surely fair enough. He also claimed that people taking photos of the curtain call is a modern form of appreciation for what they’ve just watched, which is absolute nonsense – I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone posit that before.

And actually, appreciation is what I’d like to end with here. If you’re filming the whole thing, how are you showing your appreciation if you did actually enjoy the show? The same goes for just taking photos, actually. This is why I’ll occasionally allow myself to take a picture of the orchestra bowing at the end of a classical concert, as normally there are three or four curtain calls; you can give your appreciation in the first two, take a quick photo in the third, and then revert to applause in the fourth! There often aren’t easily accessible professional photos for these events, so it’s not quite the same thing – I do still feel a bit icky though.

It’s funny what topics will really wind us up. At least Lesley Manville didn’t wade in on the cream or jam first debate, then she’d have been in real trouble…

P.S. Heaven forbid a culture show have a debate about cultural topics…

Whatever you do, don’t call her crazy…

The procession of films adapted for the stage continues, as Rebecca Reid’s version of Single White Female (itself an adaptation of John Lutz’s novel) hits theatres across the UK. Starring Kym Marsh and Lisa Faulkner, the Gordon Greenberg-directed play sets up home at Richmond Theatre this week.

Whilst the film was released in 1992, the events of the play have been brought up to the present day to try and explore some different themes within the same framework. Allie is recently divorced from Sam, and has moved into a slightly iffy block of flats with her teenage daughter Bella in order to be close to her best friend & business partner Graham. When Sam announces his partner is pregnant and so he has to halve his child maintenance payments, Allie realises the only way she can afford Bella’s private school fees is to find a lodger. At first she can’t believe her luck in finding someone fun & supportive in Hedy, but things quickly start to get a bit weird…

For anyone who has never seen the film or read the book (which includes me), the original story story has Buddy the dog rather than Bella the teenager; sensibly Rebecca Reid decided that having a dog onstage for a significant chunk of time wouldn’t really be practical, but the unfortunate effect of this is that by bringing in a 15 year old girl instead it does open up some plot holes. I know the cost-of-living crisis is hitting hard, but it does feel like a bit of a stretch for a single mum of a teenager to invite a complete stranger to live with them – especially as Allie seems to accept Hedy on the basis that she was already one of her followers on social media before sharing the room ad, rather than getting some references.

Besides, Allie knows that Bella hates the private school because she’s being bullied, so why continue to put her through that? And why didn’t they move into a 2-bed flat rather than a 3-bed in the first place? It also seems suspect that Sam can just decide how much he can decrease his child support by, rather than going through an official government body. I know that the plot needs to move along, but there doesn’t seem to be much concept of time (or, occasionally, reality) – for example, the three of them sit down to a full meal and about five minutes later they’re talking about going to bed.

Considering this has been adapted by a female writer, it’s a bit disappointing that it digs up and rehashes the mentally unstable childless woman trope, rather than properly exploring the idea of different kinds of female friendships. One thing, however, about having a teenager in the story is that it is a bit of a window into what it’s like to be a 15 year old girl in 2026 – if even half of it is accurate, it’s no wonder parents want tighter restrictions on social media use for children! Bella’s world is absolutely horrifying.

In spite of the plot holes, however, Single White Female is weirdly watchable. There are some predictable moments, but by & large it keeps you guessing from start to finish – and there’s something about listening to audience reactions. It was a lot of fun to hear the gasps and shrieks from all around as Hedy’s manipulation began, and it shows that everyone was completely invested in what was unfolding before them.

I understand the desire to stick an interval in even the shortest of shows, but this one should definitely run straight through. The performance time is around 105 minutes, so hardly uncomfortable to sit through, and it would mean that the tension could keep ramping up without arresting the momentum. There is a bit of a bombshell upon which we currently head into a break, but it’s not particularly a cliffhanger – and they pick up immediately after they left off in the second act, so it’s not as if a big set or costume change is required. If in doubt, cut the interval out.

Morgan Large’s design gives us an authentic-looking living area of a modern flat, complete with places for sparks to fly (it’s drummed into us early on that the whole building is not very well looked after) – Max Pappenheim’s sound design also comes into play here, as the lift creaks and door buzzer deafens anyone within a 2-mile radius. The various flashbacks are decently done, utilising Jason Taylor’s lighting design to great effect and allowing the pace & flow of the play to remain consistent.

Amy Snudden does excellently as Bella, for the most part the character is quite annoying (as you would expect a stroppy teenager to be) but every now & then there are chinks in her armour as she shows some vulnerability. Graham gets some great one-liners throughout – the play does rely on some clichés of the stereotypical gay best friend, but Andro does his best to make him into a more rounded personality. Lisa Faulkner isn’t always convincing as Allie, although this is possibly not helped by the fact that her character is often quite passive and overshadowed by those around her. Kym Marsh revels in the more enigmatic & interesting role of Hedy, owning the room as soon as she sets foot in the flat for the first time – she is definitely the star of the show.

It’s not perfect by any stretch, but there is plenty of entertainment and escapism to be had with this film to stage adaptation.

My verdict? Plot holes & oddities aside, this modern take on a good old-fashioned thriller is weirdly watchable.

Rating: 3*

Single White Female runs at Richmond Theatre until 18 April 2026 – remaining tickets are available online or from the box office. Full details of the tour can be found on the official website.

Before this festival I had never heard of the Alliance for Women Film Composers, but when I saw they were involved with one of the events I thought I should make sure to be there. Renowned music supervisor Gemma Dempsey hosted the Sunday morning discussion, which also included live performances of the featured composers’ music from Her Ensemble; the female composers invited to speak were Hannah Peel (Midwinter Break), Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch (H is for Hawk), Nigji Sanges (La Mort viendra), and Sofia degli Alessandri (Prime Minister).

As the event was advertised as a “panel”, I’d expected all four artists to be onstage together (with a moderator) to engage in discussion, however the format saw Dempsey conduct individual interviews with each of them, and the relevant musical performance followed. I wonder if this was a bit of a missed opportunity, as it might have allowed for free-flowing conversation with less of a feeling of time pressure once we got past the 45-minute mark – plus I always enjoy listening to artists ask each other questions, and compare & contrast their methods. This would still have left time for the performances, which were vital in lieu of clips (especially for those of us who weren’t familiar with all of the music being discussed).

Aside from this (and the constant comings & goings of audience members) it was still a really fascinating and insightful morning – I’m definitely keen to keep an eye out regularly for each composer’s new work having now become more familiar with them.

Hannah Peel
After moving from the North of Ireland to Yorkshire as a child, the initial spark that drew her to music came from finding a Carpenters record in their vinyl collection and playing it repeatedly. It was the first time that she got the shivers from music, and now she will “always look for that in music”. Although her first instrument was the piano, her move to Yorkshire unlocked a love for brass and she took up both the cornet & the trombone, as well as the violin – and then “synths took over”. She hadn’t been able to keep up with the events surrounding Artemis II, but she is “inspired by space and sound and science” in her work.

On Midwinter Break, unusually for her she was “melody led”. Director Polly Findlay had seen Dancing at Lughnasa at the National Theatre, and enjoyed Peel’s score so much that she used some of it as a temp track on the film before bringing her onboard. “The music wasn’t there to tell the story… There was almost like a breath intake and the music would happen.” Peel wrote the score at home and recorded it in Glasgow; she had hoped to do it in the North of Ireland, but there weren’t any appropriate studios (“Even after Game of Thrones?” – Dempsey) – the musicians hired for the job all had “folk tendencies”, so it was all “rooted in tradition”. She would “love the chance to work with her [Findlay] again”.

Peel’s next project is a new album, which is a “mad exploration of percussion and synths”.

Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch
With only doctors, civil servants & police officers in her family, a musical life “was not on the cards… not a serious option”. After she “wasted a couple of years studying the history of art in France”, not knowing what to do with her life, she eventually found herself in the “right ecosystem” and able to start pursuing a creative career. As well as films, Levienaise-Farrouch has scored several installations, including at the V&A, the Olympic Park, and in a village in the south of France inspired by a Roma pilgrimage – the latter explored religious fervour (“a fascinating human phenomenon”).

Her first relationship with H is for Hawk came via reading the memoir before a film was even in the works, and then her first contact with the team was via director Philippa Lowthorpe – this was about a year before filming began, as it had to be very rigidly planned due to the need to film particular goshawk sequences at particular times of year. Although she and Lowthorpe talked about existing contemporary classical music, Levienaise-Farrouch came onboard as composer; the first thing she ended up scoring became the opening sequence, and this “unlocked” the rest of the score for her. “A hunt scene with a goshawk in a script is three sentences”, but she rethought her initial plans once she saw some of the footage in the edit – something I’m sure anyone would have done (until you see the film yourself, you won’t understand).

Nigji Sanges
Born in Kinshasa, she grew up in “an environment where music was everywhere”. Her father is Italian, and so the family ended up travelling to Italy & Greece; Sanges has vivid memories of watching Fellini films and opera with her father, which she believes has shaped her musical journey. She used improvised songs to communicate whilst in Greece, as she couldn’t speak the language, and then experimented with synths – this was her “first attempt at creating music”.

The first stage of becoming involved with La Mort viendra (Death Will Come) was a meeting with the producer, and it sounds like it was a bit of a wild ride from then onwards. Sanges describes it as there being “many films in the film itself” – and it changed a lot during the process, as she & director Christoph Hochhäusler spoke about colours and the characters’ psychology. The music she wrote for this film was “trying to be simple”, but that doesn’t mean it was simple to play! She “approached it like composing for an opera… created a different universe”. Although her involvement in the project spanned from autumn 2023 to March 2024, her active working time was very short – recording took place in Luxembourg & Berlin.

Sofia degli Alessandri
Although her parents didn’t want her to work in music, degli Alessandri joked that her grandmother “forced me to start piano lessons when I was younger” – and then her formal training took her to America, where she studied at Berkeley College. “If anything, going to the US made me realise how European my music is”; she enjoys Americana and Country music, but it just doesn’t feel natural to her to compose. She actually has two professional outputs: scoring work under her maiden name, and electronic output under the name Drum & Lace (“an ode to nature… electronic folklore”). Since a fellow composer vouched for her and helped her to get onto Apple TV’s Dickinson series, she asserts that it “goes a long way to be nice to your colleagues”; although normally “streamers milk things as much as they can”, she liked that writer & creator Alena Smith had a three-series arc in mind, so it felt like “one complete thought”.

Prime Minister, the documentary about Jacinda Ardern, was still developing when degli Alessandri came on board – plus the US elections were taking place at the same time. She saw her task as “scoring her internal world and then her political world”, using vocals & pillowy strings for the former and a variety of synths for the latter. Unexpectedly, Ardern has always been inspired by the explorer Shackleton, and this in turn helped degli Alessandri to shape the score – including one specific cue.

She is currently working on a couple of projects, including the sequel to Red, White & Royal Blue (titled Red, White & Royal Wedding).

Film Composers Panel with AWFC took place at the Royal College of Music on 12 April 2026. Full details of the London Soundtrack Festival can be found on the official website.

On Saturday afternoon, having had a day and a half to recover from the  Homegrown Heroes: From Bond to Thunderbirds concert at the Barbican, British soundtrack composer extraordinaire David Arnold was back for another taste of the London Soundtrack Festival – this time in conversation with journalist Sean Wilson at the Royal College of Music. Over the course of approximately 90 minutes, he talked through his musical preferences as a composer, the process he goes through when writing a score, and his thoughts on the general state of soundtracks today.

Reflecting on Thursday night’s concert, he had nothing but praise for the London Soundtrack Festival Orchestra (and ensemble brought together specifically for that event); he identifies film music as having its own distinct sound, which is why this experienced group of musicians were chosen – “that level of musicianship I take for granted”. I hadn’t really thought about film music this way before; often it is seen as a gateway for an interest in classical music (particularly for children), but it was interesting to hear Arnold’s own take on this. “Even though it’s orchestral, it doesn’t have to sound like classical music.”

Another fascinating topic of conversation was the concept of soundtracks making a leap into popular culture, with instantly recognisable riffs and melodies popping up in different settings – I’d agree with Arnold that this does seem to be on the wane, whilst pieces from the 1970s & 1980s maintain their place in the zeitgeist. Whether this is linked to the advent of ‘Skip Intro’ (“We hate it”) or it’s simply a phase in the style of soundtrack composition, it’s hard to say – but all Arnold does know is that actively attempting to write something that will transcend its original setting is a mistake.

The ‘Skip Intro’ button is one of my least favourite technological innovations of the 21st century. No exaggeration. Even if a theme tune is a bit cheesy or goes on for a while (hello, Game of Thrones), for me the show hasn’t started properly if you don’t play the title credits through; it definitely gets you in the right frame of mind before you dive in and, as Arnold pointed out, it tells the story of the show in short form. His own Sherlock theme (written with Michael Price) is a prime example.

Even though Netflix execs recently publicly stated that their films & don’t reiterate plot points, countering claims from Matt Damon & Ben Affleck that they were directed to repeat important information in The Rip because many viewers would be on their phones whilst watching the film, David Arnold seemingly backed the pair’s claim up. He spoke about “vertical film-making” (aimed at people watching on their phones in 30-second clips), as well as the so-called “page 5 recap” – and also mentioned that the younger generation supposedly only get an average of 90 seconds into a show or film before deciding to check their phones. I’d imagine it isn’t just young people, given our increasing reliance on devices, but it is concerning that any viewer would be dipping into their phone that quickly.

One of Arnold’s more recent projects was the Amazon Prime series Good Omens, and he spoke about how pleased he was that the community that grew around the programme really got what they were trying to do with it; there was so much going on in the first series that “you could literally do almost anything [with the music] and it would work” – he used this opportunity to plant “musical seeds” which would continue to develop and blossom further down the line.

Another of my personal favourites from David Arnold’s back catalogue is the score to Hot Fuzz (a.k.a. the best film in the Cornetto Trilogy). “Edgar Wright is like an animator,” Arnold said. Unusually for a director, he was on hand at every point in the process of making the score (from the writing stages to recording and mixing); this attention to detail is probably how Wright is able to make such quirky films in his own inimitable style – and also allows him to bring silly little moments together, such as Timothy Dalton accidentally staring down the camera lens being twinned with the ping of a cash register. Who else would even consider doing something like that?

You can’t have an event with David Arnold without talking James Bond. “I got introduced to John Barry by George Martin.” Not everyone can say that! He spoke very fondly about the original Bond composer, mentioning that he resisted the urge to behave like the fanboy he is and pester Barry with questions – but one piece of advice has stuck with him over the years: “Play the theme, play the theme, play the theme.” And any Bond fan will know that John Barry definitely followed his own instructions, creating an instantly recognisable blueprint for the franchise all the way back in the 1960s. When Arnold was “passed the Olympic torch” in 1997, he found that the Bond production team were happy to let him be free with it – any pressure he felt was coming from the rest of the world watching on.

It was interesting to hear him state that “I look at the score as something I give to the director”, and that once he’s played his part he’s “not precious about it”, trusting the director to make the right decisions for the project as a whole. It would be fascinating to find out if this is a universal stance from soundtrack composers, or if Arnold is something of an outlier…

I’d like to finish on one final thought from David Arnold, and that is his plea not to judge film music by Hollywood alone. He likes to look for the “singular voices”, citing films like Bugonia and The Brutalist (as well as the work of Jonny Greenwood), and also gravitates towards composers with more melodic tendencies like Michael Giacchino, John Powell and Alexandre Desplat. “Hollywood is the Greggs of film-making”: it’s comforting, you know what you’re getting – and you can’t eat a Michelin-starred meal every single time.

Composing may be his main job, but he certainly has a way with words! This entire event was a real treat; it could easily have gone on for twice as long, thanks to Arnold’s passion for his work and keenness to interact with the audience. He’s next set to return to the world of chaotic cat Mog, with previous collaborator Don Black on lyric-writing duty.

David Arnold in Conversation took place at the Royal College of Music on 11 April 2026. Full details of the London Soundtrack Festival can be found on the official website.

Rounding off the 2026 London Soundtrack Festival was the aptly titled Rachel Portman & Friends – Beyond the Screen, as the celebrated composer was joined on stage at Cadogan Hall by friends and collaborators Gill Graham, Niklas Liepe & Nils Liepe to talk and play through her illustrious career to date. Not only was Portman the first female winner of the Academy Award for Best Score (for the 1996 film adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma), but she has also worked on films such as The Manchurian Candidate, One Day, The Duchess, Chocolat, and many more besides; the chances are, even if you don’t recognise her name you will recognise her music.

Whilst billed as a concert on the festival listings, it actually ended up being a blend of chat, performance & video clips – a perfect way of getting insight into Portman’s process as well as acquainting (or re-acquainting) ourselves with her compositions, going all the way back to Oxford University’s film Privileged (notable for being the screen debut for Hugh “Hughie” Grant, and also featuring the likes of Imogen Stubbs & Mark Williams) and exploring some of her more recent work – notably a score for the LGT Young Soloists’ Dolomites, Pale Mountains. Using this mix of media, as well as splitting it into two halves, gave the audience a proper experience of Portman’s work; if you’re gathered together in a room it’s obviously optimal to have some live performances included, but it’s also informative to see & hear the work in its intended setting. This event struck a great balance between the two, and the conversation between Portman & Graham helped the whole thing to flow beautifully, creating a warm & welcoming atmosphere from the get-go.

It was interesting to note that (like several other composers at this festival) Portman prefers to create melodic & tuneful scores, with Graham noting that her “fingerprint” is all over her work as she has a signature style which she sticks to in her work – and she also has a “three adjectives rule” so that directors don’t overload her with information before she starts to write each score, as she finds that less is most definitely more.

One of the early musical performances by the Liepe brothers was a pair of cues from Chocolat; although not normally a chocolate fan, Portman shared that after watching so many scenes with delicious-looking sweet treats in them, she found herself craving chocolate during her time scoring the film – and that it probably helped her to power through the tight deadlines that she encountered on that job! Perhaps that’s also why the ‘Chocolate Sauce’ cue sounds quite so silky smooth, enhanced by Niklas’ delightful violin playing on the night.

A couple of standout moments came when Portman lifted the curtain and let us into her world of work. In the first half she demonstrated how she eventually came up with the theme to The Cider House Rules: the director only really liked a three-bar section, so she ultimately used this as a base to work from to compose something new. Playing this simple melody for us on the piano showed the natural way in which the piece evolved into the final product. In the second half, when talking about her work on the TV series We Were The Lucky Ones, we were shown three different clips: what Portman was initially sent, the first sequence set to her playing along on the piano, and then the final scene (including all VFX). That was a real eye-opener, as it’s almost unfathomable that she managed to come up with something so expressive using that first simple filmed sequence.

Another highlight saw us taken back to the early years of cinema, as Nils played along on the piano to a clip from Still Life with its theme – it definitely added an extra little something, and brought out the visual humour of the sequence we watched. The final highlight came at the end of the night, as Portman played Eventide (from her album of the same name) to send us on her way; even if we hadn’t been told earlier that it was very rare for her to play in public, this would still have been a memorable moment and a genuine thrill to experience. The festival couldn’t have been brought to a close in any better way.

My verdict? A brilliant ending to a brilliant London Soundtrack Festival – a fascinating insight into Rachel Portman’s life as a composer.

Rating: 5*

Rachel Portman & Friends – Beyond the Screen took place at Cadogan Hall on 12 April 2026. Full details of the London Soundtrack Festival can be found on the official website.

From Sunday evenings on ITV1 to Saturday night at Central Hall Westminster (via the big screen), An Evening at Downton Abbey was a true celebration of all things related to the fictional Crawley family. Alastair King conducted the Chamber Orchestra of London, who were responsible for recording the scores to all of the Downton Abbey TV series & films. Amongst their number on piano was composer John Lunn; he has travelled around the world performing this well-loved music, but this London Soundtrack Festival concert marked his first time playing it to an audience in the capital city. And what better occasion could there be?

A handful of audience members had taken on the festival’s suggestion of dressing up for the occasion (I definitely spotted a few evening gowns, and even a pair of gentlemen in top hat & tails!), which definitely added to the festive nature of the event; in some ways it’s a shame that these patrons were very few & far between, but in other ways it meant I didn’t feel completely under-dressed – although I had the excuse of having to power-walk three miles from a previous festival event in South Kensington because the Tubes weren’t running and the buses were full… Either way, once the lights went down and the concert began, all that mattered was the music that we were all there to celebrate.

To add to the experience, a vast array of stills and promotional images were projected onto a screen on the back wall. No composition names on this occasion, but given that the images were themed around each piece (and Classic FM’s Zeb Soanes was there to provide introductions) this wasn’t really necessary. As with the Homegrown Heroes concert, it might have been nice to have the occasional video clip to break things up a bit – particularly as a number of images were repeated a few times. This may have been challenging to achieve technologically speaking, as the festival was moving rapidly between venues, but ultimately it would have been worthwhile to give the audience something slightly different to look at.

The very first piece was the Downton Abbey Suite, which was built around what became the opening title music and also includes various themes which would recur in different cues – as such, it served wonderfully as an overture of sorts for the concert. Hearing this right at the beginning definitely helped to fit the pieces back together when later pieces were played (for example, Matthew & Mary’s theme: Such Good Luck), and it also gave an insight into how Lunn approached his compositions beyond the first series. The second and third films particularly helped to expand the musical horizons of Downton Abbey, with the family embracing the burgeoning film industry (Kinema), visiting the French Riviera (Côte D’Azur), and seeing a changed London in the 1930s (A Night in Piccadilly) – the latter is a brilliantly bombastic piece that really captures the spirit of the time, and made for a great opener in the second half of the concert.

Something I hadn’t been aware of was that a handful of compositions from Lunn’s scores have been transformed into songs, with legendary lyricist Don Black providing the words. Whilst they do work as pieces in their own right – and definitely give you a new perspective on the music (who else would have put the words “did I make the most of loving you?” with the theme tune?) – perhaps the running order could have been ever so slightly different to avoid the feeling of repetitiveness. Rather than having the ‘instrumental version’ played first and then the song just a few places later in the programme, splitting them across the two acts would have freshened them up a bit; maybe even performing the song first and then the cue in one or two instances could have worked. All that being said, it was a joy to hear Eurielle’s beautiful vocals at several points in the evening – her style of singing is well suited to both the content of the songs and the orchestra’s backing.

Perhaps the most touching (yet at the same time most entertaining) moment of the night came with Violet’s Escapades, as we were able to celebrate both the wickedly funny Dowager Countess and the inimitable Maggie Smith in one fell swoop. The music and chosen images were incredibly evocative, and I’m sure many patrons had a few of her hilarious one-liners rattling around their heads throughout the performance!

Ending with A Royal Command (from the first big screen instalment) and then a brief encore which showed behind-the-scenes photos on the screen rounded things off superbly, giving us a couple of final grand moments before heading out into a chilly London night. This event couldn’t have been more at home as part of the London Soundtrack Festival, spanning both film & TV as well as including one of the biggest soundtrack earworms in recent history; a concert fit for the Crawley family themselves.

My verdict? A wonderful inclusion in the London Soundtrack Festival, and a glorious event for Downton Abbey fans.

Rating: 4*

An Evening at Downton Abbey took place at Central Hall Westminster on 11 April 2026. Full details of the London Soundtrack Festival can be found on the official website.

A reimagined version of George Bernard Shaw’s Saint Joan is currently playing at the Arches Lane Theatre. Adapted by Ruthie Black, Peter Hinton-Davis & James Saxby, the typically three/four-hour long play has been compressed down to a suggested running time of 90 minutes (although it actually only ran to 70 minutes at my performance), and is advertised as being “both at once a live play and a dream”. It has a modern setting and design, and has influences ranging from Shaw being inspired by Joan’s canonisation in 1920 to court-room reality documentaries & confessional TikToks; Black and Saxby star in the production, whilst Hinton-Davis directs.

The play begins in 1431 at Joan’s trial for heresy, and subsequently flashes back to fill in the gaps that led her to that moment. Shaw’s original play is structured simply in chronological order, which works well for a lengthier production but this version’s structure is a very well thought out way of allowing the key components of the story to be told in a far shorter amount of time. It immediately demonstrates how high the stakes are (sorry, Joan) and sets out the course upon which Joan’s life will take from the moment she first speaks about her “voices”; the key dates are helpfully projected on the back wall, so no change of set is required – the audience is kept well informed without compromising the pace and flow of the production. As with the original play, an epilogue follows which depicts the French king dreaming a conversation with Joan about the fact that there has been a retrial, which ultimately clears her of heresy – much good when she’s long dead. Although it is important to include this scene, as there are important points to cover, it does feel like it takes up much more time than is needed whilst some earlier scenes are a lot swifter; making the play quite so compact perhaps loses some of the effect that a longer one would, in which there is more time for the audience to get to know both Joan and the context of her actions.

One element that, for me, doesn’t work is the inclusion of songs. Music can be a powerful tool to help get your message across, but this relies on choosing songs which have a clear message and fit the style & setting of the production – and also ensuring they don’t outstay their welcome. Although Black beautifully performs a song right at the beginning of the play (possibly Like A Phoenix I Will Rise – there’s no reference to the songs in the programme), a much shorter version would be more impactful as it avoids unnecessary repetition. Saxby seems slightly less confident as a singer, but commits to the sudden whiplash to World War One with The Bells of Hell Go Ting-a-ling-a-ling and a musical setting of Wilfred Owen’s The Last Laugh… The choice of these last two songs is presumably a nod to Shaw having written the play in the shadow of this conflict, but as the production is supposed to be set in the modern world this does create some confusion; had it been set during the First World War or the 1920s it would make sense, but as it is it feels like they’re trying to do too much.

You can’t fault their ambition, however – and I’d much rather see something like that than a production that stays simple and doesn’t quite come off. They definitely hit the George Bernard Shaw brief of being confronting, even if it isn’t always intentional; Ruthie Black’s North American twang, presumably her native Canadian accent, has the unfortunate effect of bringing to mind very current events – and Joan’s single-mindedness and inability to listen to constructive criticism is rather uncomfortable to take in without really sitting in the context for her taking those actions. Black is passionate in her performance though, showing Joan in a modern light. Opposite her, James Saxby is incredibly versatile in taking on several different characters throughout the production, including the Dauphin (later King Charles) and an inquisitor.

Despite its flaws, it’s a decent introduction to the mammoth Shaw work – as well as a good way to shine a spotlight on the nature of power and how the effects of the patriarchy ripple down through the centuries. 

My verdict? An ambitious take on the George Bernard Shaw classic, bringing Joan of Arc to the modern world.

Rating: 3*

Saint Joan runs at Arches Lane Theatre until 12 April 2026. Tickets are available online or from the box office.