Cindy Marcolina - Page 40

Longurst directs with refreshing accuracy and delicate sophistication, creating visual dynamics that make the space feel immense. It’s simply sublime, mandatory viewing for a lesson on empathy, kindness, and the power of music.

Narratively, the story isn’t anything revolutionary, but Burns’s approach is rich with emotional intelligence and clinical precision. She takes on a crumbling, unfeeling practice ruled by waiting lists and a scorecard, exploring how destructive a lack of (financial, yes, but also psychological) support can be for those for whom support is a profession. It’s a striking debut.

Simon Russell Beale takes on the disgraced mogul, Nicholas Hytner directs. Anna Fleischle designs the show. It’s a winning team, but the piece leaves the audience as cold as a Norwegian winter.

In a society riddled with fake news, that bends over backwards to regulate a woman's body, justifying its laws with a magical book, The Crucible is frighteningly relevant.

Commissioned by Southwark Council, Linda Wilkinson writes a historically accurate account laden with fiction to explore the strings attached to progress. Author Mary Shelley and human rights activist Octavia Hill coexist in this tonally odd piece, playing ghosts in each other’s lives.

Audra McDonald’s name sits right at the centre of the Broadway firmament. A record-breaking performer among the queens of musicals, her cup of talent certainly runneth over.

Addictive Beats is a missed opportunity to attract a younger generation to explore mental health. Sure, the music is crazy cool and the show promises a great vibe, but, as it is, it’s a production that only scrapes the top of its themes but saved a lot of money on seat rental.

Tyler’s trying to get his driver’s licence. Six years after his first attempt, he’s enlisted Max as an instructor. With a reputation as the best in Birmingham and dozens of successful candidates to prove it, he has quite a dictatorial attitude to his lessons. Locked in the cockpit, their initially scratchy exchanges grow into an earnest bond.

The Prince is a weird concept. With a flurry of gender theory and top-notch queerness enveloped by sword fights and iambic pentameter, it’s a refreshingly sacrilegious approach to Shakespeare.

After a virtual ceremony in 2020 and a pandemic-induced silence in 2021, The Stage Debut Awards have finally returned in all their glitz and glamour the day before the State Funeral of Queen Elizabeth II. Stage veterans and shooting starlets gathered to celebrate their debuts and, after a nationwide minute of silence at eight sharp, Susan Wokoma kicked off the festivities.

The new company brings new energy to Matthew Dunster’s production, but the core of the show remains a smashing success.

As directed by Littler, it’s deceivingly traditional on the surface. The staging is rather conventional with its 30s sitting rooms, period furniture, and interwar fashion tying the subject matter to its temporal setting and social class.

Directed by Ricky Dukes, Lazarus Theatre offer a take on Christopher Marlowe’s demonic tale that defies all genres, spanning everything from farce to gore in 95 minutes of esoteric intrigue. Historically controversial, Marlowe’s play had its first outing at the end of the 16th Century, but stays relevant. After all, has there ever been a time when the hunger for fame and thirst for wisdom haven’t ruled mankind?

A Different Stage contextualises the Gary Barlow the tabloids know, giving him the chance to be at the forefront of his own version of the story whilst reconfirming him as an exceptional entertainer. Sure, it’s biased and obviously made to make him look good, but it’s heartfelt and authentic. Mostly, it’s a bloody great show that will appease the superfans and mellow the sceptics. 

Still, Ride is an impressive feat in both material and execution. It delves into female entrepreneurship at the turn of the century in the face of dire necessity. It introduces an extraordinary woman gifted with cunning enterprise and - whether true or not - it tells a marvellous story.

Naima Sjoholm writes an intriguing pastiche that toys with our perception of the plot. There’s a Dead Body in my Living Room is an improbably tongue-in-cheek play that mixes feminist drama, absurdism, slapstick, and physical theatre with surprising ease.

Underneath an unassuming church in Bethnal Green, Party Geek and their creative director Paul King are single-handedly reframing the Second World War with a brilliant concept and an astonishing execution.

After a stellar outing last year and a nomination for Best New Play at the Olivier Awards, Jack Holden’s buzzing tale of a long-lost but never forgotten gay London is back with a smirk and a tear for a limited engagement in the West End.

It’s a fantastic, highly entertaining night out that will leave you speechless from beginning to end. As of right now, Wonderville is only booking until late October but, with Christmas approaching fast, it’s sure to become a festive favourite. 

The experience toes the line between hen-do fun and delightfully over-the-top kitschiness.Will we edge towards a life of gun-slinging crime or become a prim and proper hometown hero during our mission to heal and rebuild?