Alexander Cohen

Nadine Sierra’s enthralling central performance helms this nerve-jangling revival.

A cathartic and powerful moment, a veinous fist unclenching.

Aesthetically malnourished, London Tide lacks the lustrous life blood that so warmly floods through the veins of Dickens’s literary world.

Ian McKellen is a mesmerizingly athletic Falstaff in Robert Icke's iconoclastic fusion of Henry IV parts 1 and 2

Lovingly snug, like you’ve been invited to into the warm for a cup of tea and a biscuit on a rainy day.

This slathered-in-schmaltz hagiography is like watching the Zone of Interest: you know the disturbing stuff is always just out of view.

An ambitious but flawed character study

Tyrell Williams' award winning play is triumphantly promoted up a league to the West End after two runs at the Bush Theatre

Billy Crudup's mercurial talent keeps this flaccid show afloat

Where does a body start and a human being end? The story of Charles Byrne, the so-called “Irish Giant” is the diving board off of which Composer Sarah Angliss’ debut opera leaps

Trevor Nunn's production runs until 13 April

“The city has eyes and it watches your every move.” There’s no time for welcomes for newly arrived Trinidadian immigrant Galahad. Only warnings from street-smart fellow immigrant Moses. The latter has taken the former under his wing; together they will traverse the twisting streets and interminable bustle of 1950s London.

It’s odd to watch an opera where the actual opera is an afterthought. At least that’s how it feels watching Simon McBurney’s The Magic Flute. His revival production sizzles with circus spectacle, high tech pageantry, and boundary breaking chutzpah. But underneath it all you’ll be hard pressed to find the warmth of a beating heart.

The odd-couple set up is a well worn path, but there’s more than meets the eye to Neil D’Souza’s bittersweet comedy.

German auteur Thomas Ostermeier's production is not as radical as it thinks it is

Yaël Farber described King Lear as theatre’s Everest. If that’s true, then they might just have scaled the summit.

Frantic Assembly’s new version, penned by Lemn Sissay, may be poetically vivid and visually mesmerising, but it is terminally plagued by dramatic inertia. Without that key ingredient, the production melts into the looming shadows. An expressionistic mess. But a beautiful one to watch unravel.

Till the Stars Come Down is a sparkling bundle of light and luminous love. If you don’t believe me, believe the colossal disco ball hovering above the stage.

The Holocaust is not an easy subject to tackle. Balancing storytelling without over-indulging in  trauma whilst being respectful is a delicate affair. For every Schindler’s List there are swathes of plays, books, and films that drown themselves in schmaltz. The Most Precious of Goods can be added to that list.

Ambergris pits the Jonah and Ahab stories together in what is another moodboard show, one that throws ideas together to see what sticks.