Cindy Marcolina - Page 17

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?

Amanda Elizabeth Rischel writes a scratchy comedy infused with typically noir tropes. Directed by Rosie Frecker, it’s the debut of Stage Noir, a group of East 15 alumni who set off to increase neurodiverse representation in theatre.

It’s unfortunate how numb and aimless this piece is. Described as a “tar-black dramedy”, it sadly lacks humour and the quality of the narrative is the only tragedy in it. It’s a first play and definitely not a death sentence, so onwards and upwards.

The Sun, the Mountain, and Me is an equally dark and vibrant look at men's mental health, tactfully showing the path to recovery for those who need it.

Nick Winston stages less of a concert and more of an almost-fully-formed production with clear-cut vision.

Just like some meetings should have been emails, some musicals should have been plays. It wouldn’t save Charlie Ryall and Richard Baker’s new production right away, but it would be a start. The concept and structure of Tasting Notes is compelling and original, but the final result is a bit of a slog with an unmemorable score and a surplus of both narrative and aural material.

Love Island meets Below Deck in Benidorm in this OTT aestival pastiche. Prospero dons a speedo. Questionable tattoos cover a few of the cast. The most unpredictable of twists stretches the limits of copyright infringement. It’s absolutely bonkers, but it works! Holmes delivers a modern, refreshing, and unconventional take.

Jack Absolute Flies Again! Originally scheduled for the Spring of 2020, it took two years, a director change, and a cast reshuffling for the show to get off the ground. It finally lands at the Olivier in a flashy production that has very little substance. One wonders how such a play ended up on one of the most coveted, prominent stages in London.

“I thought I was being romantic, but I’m just being drunk and gay”. Everything changes when Bex starts serving at Lori’s catering company. Lori is a polished high-end chef enamoured of food and what it can give people, while Bex is a working-class young woman whose go-to meal is chicken nuggets. Can Lori’s pretentious palate fit within Bex’s realistic view of the world?

A regime has fallen and the new ruling class is gearing up to take over. Allegiances run on the razor’s edge and “Today’s patriot can become tomorrow’s traitor”. United Kingdom, 2022? No, Soviet Union, 1991. Peter Morgan thrusts us in a universe where 1.3 billion is an understated sum as he follows the rise and fall of businessman Boris Berezovsky, from billionaire extraordinaire in the president’s inner circle to the very top of his men’s hit-list. ​

The tale of the RMS Titanic has been etched in the minds of millions for a century. The shattered dreams of those 1,500 who lost their lives against an iceberg in the North Atlantic Ocean on the 15th of April 1912 still stun us in horror, but James Cameron's epic romance has been making us dream and weep alike for 25 years.

Many interpretations have been given to Franz Kafka’s novella A Report to an Academy, with academics taking different roads. Published in 1917, an ape, trapped and abused by humans, learns their behaviour not out of desire to assimilate but to survive. The fact that it’s the work of a German-speaking Czech born to a Jewish family in Prague, written in the middle of the First World War, certainly carries specific implications. 

It’s a turbulent time in 1984 England. The nation is trapped between the Conservative jaws of Thatcher’s Tories and Charles Hawthorn is fighting the growing problem of morally corrupt horror films.

Dante Alighieri built his idea of hell as a colossal conical structure that opens up underneath Jerusalem and reaches the centre of the Earth. He makes his descent steadily, accompanied by Virgil. The further away from Jerusalem, the further away from God and goodness. A stone’s throw from Jerusalem, Iraq and what it represents in the American cultural portfolio is ravaged by conflict. A young soldier puts up a fight before he is honourably discharged. A cold-blooded killer who’s completely unbothered by having to make his way through piles of corpses, he is everything the States want in their ranks.

The tale as old as time returns to the West End. The 1991 animated film is doubtlessly one of the most beloved out of the Disney catalogue and saw a number of live-action films of varied quality developed over the years. Now, its musical adaptation takes over the Palladium in a grand spectacle directed and choreographed by Matt West. It’s big, it’s theatrical, it’s magical.