Cindy Marcolina - Page 38

A vivid exploration of what it means to navigate life as a black woman in England ensues. From playground racism to workplace discrimination, we follow her as she rakes through her memory to find her unresolved trauma and heal from a bad breakup.

Impeccable and efficiently disquieting aesthetics don't lift a content that - while expertly made - is ultimately rather underdeveloped.

A disorientating and disruptive piece that challenges the nature of theatre itself.

This first iteration of the piece is the perfect chance for the material to grow alongside its creatives: the elements of a great production are all there, they just need further polishing.

Bloody Mary: Live! is a joy to watch. The influence of Six is clear as day, from looks to sass, but Miller is unapologetic about it - a trend that continues throughout the hour-long piece. Giving a historical figure the Hamilton treatment isn’t new, but it’s a gift that keeps on giving. “I refuse to be small” Mary says. And, by god, Miller is anything but.

Director Ricky Dukes refocuses the story on the younger characters, exploring their response to the personally catastrophic events in the play. Or so he says. It’s a show sprinkled with fun gimmicks and cool tricks, but it gives a skeletal, feeble, episodic result that completely removes Hamlet from his emotional context.

London’s biggest and most diverse live performance festival is finally back on its feet. Cut short due to the pandemonium of March 2020 and two consecutive years of darkness, VAULT Festival is reopening its doors to audiences and creatives.

This is A Streetcar Named Desire for a new generation. It’s sexy and dangerously seductive, but doesn’t fail to have a firm and uncompromising stance on domestic violence. We’re repulsed by Stanley’s antics, then by Mitch’s. Frecknall’s Streetcar is unmistakably feminist and feminine. She hones Blanche and Stella’s relationship, presenting them in all their dignity and flaws, building a sisterhood marred by the needs and threats of the time.

Lillian Hellman’s play is a time capsule of American non-interventionism under the guise of a comedy of manners that suddenly becomes a historical thriller.

There’s a new queen in town - wait, make that SIX! The most successful musical in a post-Hamilton theatre world has just received a fresh cast change.

David French’s semi-autobiographical award-winning Canadian classic receives its British premiere 38 years after its debut, but it appears it’s not a timeless play. Much has changed since then and, directed by Peter Kavanagh, Salt-Water Moon comes off as quite the tired shadow of a love story.

Sold as a curious tale of enchantment, it’s a romantic comedy masquerading as a French pastiche that crosses eras and genres. Translated by Waleed Akhtar, it’s debuting at the theatre’s Downstairs stage with Tom Jackson Greaves at the helm. Unfortunately, this shaky production leaves much to be desired.

After two years of absolute doom and uncertainty, 2022 began with a sprinkle of glimmer on the horizon. Masked up and cautious, we came back to theatres properly. Admittedly and unfortunately, I found the return underwhelming and gave very few glowing 5-star reviews. I still loved a good number of productions, but it’s a far cry from struggling to whittle it down to a Top 10. Nonetheless, it was an exciting year.

Ultimately, it's a show about human connection. Whether you trust your eyes or you don't, whether his deceptions work on you or don't, or if you simply take the evening as a fascinating social experiment or couples therapy, it's all about a shared experience. After the lockdowns, the face masks, the rampant deaths, it feels good to go into something open-heartedly and willing to be surprised. It's safe to say that Brown has another hit on his hands.

Presented in the round with the inclusion of closed-captioning at every performance and a few BSL-signing characters, it’s probably the most accessible, most gender-fluid show currently running in London.

It's a clever, engaging format. Resembling more to a daytime talk show than a traditional cabaret, the audience joins in in the scripted malarkey while the guests discuss anything from dream roles to nervous poos. It truly is a chance to get up close and personal with the stars to discover personalities as big as their voices while they perform songs that have meaning in their lives and careers.

All in all, the piece is promising at this stage, but it could be so much more. The idea is clever, the dynamic is intriguing, it just needs a rewrite or two.

Playwright Paul Morrissey explores a fascinating case, transforming it into a boutique paranormal thriller whilst trying to explain the lead-up to their disappearance. Directed by Shilpa T-Hyland, Wickies: The Vanishing Men of Eilean Mor is a good alternative to the Christmas stories that traditionally haunt London at this time of year.

While only one hour long, Teglia’s script has a lot of surplus material that’s solely used to bring the topics up. Tia and Kai regale Sienna with the crazy tales of their wild childhood on the estate, painting a clichéd picture of contemporary disadvantaged youth versus their luckier pals. They’re happy in their world. Sienna is obviously not. What should be a layered piece remains explored only on a surface level without much empathy shown to either side of privilege.

It's an exceptional addition to a Theatreland that's generally lacking in political engagement, especially during the Christmas period. It's intense, brainy, and absolutely delectable. The latest West End must-see.