Reviews

There’s so much in The Father that doesn’t seem right. The wall-mounted telephone surely was in the centre of the set a few minutes ago, and now it’s on a stage-left wall. If must have been moved silently during one of intense blackouts that punctuate the production. 

That’s nothing. Soon whole tables disappear, dinner settings, comfortable chairs: the whole room is crumbling, insubstantial. Just like André, the Father himself, played by John Bell.

This strikingly original production of two short plays by Belgian writer Elvis Peeters is by theatre veteran and award winner Richard Murphet.  Elvis Peeters’ texts supply no scene setting and no directions.  The writing is powerful, but the texts are no more than intertwining and juxtaposed monologues.  There is very little interaction between the characters – at least on the page.  It is up to the director what he or she does with this.  What Mr Murphet does is inventive, to say the least; it is also visually and aurally powerful – close to overw

Niche is a witty and coolly intelligent show, beautifully realised, about the manufacture of celebrity and other infectious creations that ‘go viral’. 

On a windswept evening in Bardon in a lovely, intimate venue, a small independent troupe called ‘The Curators’ performed Uncle Vanya. Chekhov’s work was appreciated by a supportive opening night crowd that clearly enjoyed the script’s existential ennui, unrequited love and dark humour.