2026

“Arcadia” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

Transferring from the Old Vic into the venue soon to bear the playwright Tom Stoppard’s name, this revival of his 1993 play deserves its rave reviews. Spanning centuries, as well philosophy and culture, Arcadia is full of big ideas. Director Carrie Cracknell and her superb cast seem a little in awe of the piece, and you can’t blame them – the fusion of sex, science and culture is grand. Without doubt, the production is a first-rate affair. But it can be noted that it never questions Stoppard’s genius.

It’s hard not to be daunted, though. Stoppard’s knowledge is profound as well as extensive. A history of the Enlightenment and Romanticism in the historical sections of the play is reflected on in modern-day moments. Stoppard’s facility with language and his erudite characters make every line intelligent. Naturally, he is writing about a bunch of clever clogs who say a lot of things that make you think. It’s tough to admit, but, this can be tiring and the play, however great, is long.

The focus is an 18th-century maths prodigy called Thomasina, performed impeccably by Isis Hainsworth who manages (no easy task) to convey the girl’s youth as well as her brains. Her tutor Septimus is another smarty pants, and Seamus Dillane conveys his many attractions convincingly. Septimus is almost dangerously charismatic – he is a schoolfriend of Lord Bryon, who he makes seem a little tame – although you might wonder if more questions could be raised about his conduct.

In the present day, the couple are researched (kind of) by modern academics. Nikki Amuka-Bird and Oliver Chris get a good deal of fun from the rivalry between the two writers, while Stoppard’s structure, his provision of hindsight, is hugely rewarding. But while Chris can land laughs as the arrogant historian, the performance comes close to being a little too broad. Would his inflated ego really fool or impress anyone, especially in such rarefied circles?

All of the characters are interesting. Yolanda Kettle has a fine role as Thomasina’s mother, full of the kind of acerbic snobbery that’s great on stage, while Angus Cooper plays another maths whiz struggling with something complicated. Stoppard manages to explain a lot of ideas brilliantly and Cooper’s understated performance is a highlight. Everyone has plenty to say and there is humour and romance, the latter aided by Alex Eales’ stylish set.

Best of all, Cracknell and the staging convey a sense of wonder. There’s less melancholy than I remember from Matthew Warcus’ production in the same venue a decade ago. The focus is more on intellectual excitement, with discussions about physics and philosophy that are fascinating, if occasionally hard work. It’s hard to follow what Thomasina’s breakthrough actually is, the trials of the modern academics too. And if you wonder at least some of the time what it is they are all talking about, don’t worry – you’re not alone.

Until 12 September 2026

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by  Manuel Harlan

2026

“The Truth” at the Apollo Theatre

There’s no doubt that Florian Zeller’s hit show is a strong play. Londoners have long enjoyed the Frenchman’s work, including this comedy of manners about adultery, and this revival of Lindsay Posner’s production goes all out to entertain.

The focus is Michel, who is having an affair with his best friend’s wife, Alice. The twists surrounding what their respective spouses know and the games both couples play lead to a lot of fun with some great lines – all impressively far from your average farce.

Being French, Zeller brings a philosophical flair to his writing. The quartet debates the value of the truth, weaponising the concept with varying degrees of success. Such concerns are tamed by Posner, possibly with an eye on his cast. How much the play suffers from this is up for discussion.

The material allows some bluntness, especially with the role of Michel, played by Stephen Mangan, who emphasises this. Michel is the arch hypocrite and a bit of a fool – in short, very much in Mangan’s theatrical wheelhouse. It works because he is good at this and because he is so well supported. Sarah Hadland allows his mistress a suitably forceful edge and is on fine comic form. Ardal O’Hanlon, as the cuckold and betrayed best friend, gives an impressively understated performance that gets big laughs. An underused Janie Dee oozes sophistication as Michel’s wife.

All the characters have secrets, and the skilled performances make the most of these. But defining them all in relation to Michel points towards a question. Has The Truth been turned into more of a star vehicle than might be wise? Mangan may strike you as too bumbling, too British, but he gets the laughs, the audience loves him and he deserves his time in the spotlight. Even if there’s the suspicion that the comedy could have more bite, it’s no lie to say that this is an enjoyable affair.

Until 12 September 2026


www.thetruthplay.com

Photo by Johan Persson

2026

“Pride” at the National Theatre

Director Matthew Warchus’ project to turn his 2014 film into a musical makes sense. The true story of the Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners group, which raised funds during the 1984 miners’ strike, has protests and parades, strong characters and political changes. Even better, bringing Pride to the stage adds something special: the music and lyrics by Christopher Nightingale and Stephen Beresford highlight passion and the potential for change in a way only musicals can. After all, shows about revolutions can work remarkably well.

There’s no doubt Warchus gets it. His handling of the action is superb: clear, energetic and capable of delivering both laughter and tears. His staging balances the nostalgia that threatens to overwhelm Beresford’s book, reminding us that these were not easy times for either the LGBT community or the miners on strike. There is less success with the sentimentality that can also be laid at Beresford’s door. Some moments are simply too sickly sweet and pass by too quickly to earn their emotional weight. Overall, Pride is far from perfect, but its characters power it through to deliver impressive results.

The show is slow to get started. The exposition that introduces the period, while necessary, is sure to depress anyone of a certain age and plods along terribly. The piece also drags towards the end, becoming hagiographic in its treatment of its lead, the inspiring activist Mark Ashton. Despite the nuance Beresford tries to introduce, Jhon Lumsden struggles to convey the character’s charisma. There is also a moment when Pride focuses on personal identity to the exclusion of broader politics. It’s nice that the character of Bromley, whose coming-out story provides an effective subplot, gets a strong song, and Lewis Cornay is excellent in the role, but this shift in focus feels uncomfortable and anachronistic.

Other characters fare better. Matthew Durkan has a fine time as the group’s administrator, Mike, giving a strong and effective performance. Courtney Stapleton stands out as Steph, getting a lot of laughs out of her lines. Ensuring plenty of attention is given to the mining community is a smart move and leads to excellent performances from Matthew Woodyatt and, particularly, Sarah Pugh as Siân James. Her vocals are superb and her solo number is one of the show’s strongest moments. Samuel Barnett also has a great time as Jonathan, a role that showcases his considerable talents. Jonathan’s flamboyance has a clear political purpose – he gets the first truly memorable musical number (although the wait for it is too long), and Barnett’s performance is fantastic.

The lyrics have a humour that could be encouraged; the jokes are the best moments. There’s a pleasing variety to the score, helped by the subject matter, and while ‘Bread and Roses’ is always going to steal the show, the arrangement demonstrates real skill. It’s a shame that the biggest numbers rely so heavily on their performers, as the songs themselves are not quite memorable enough. Lizzie Gee’s choreography disappoints, while Bunny Christie’s set may be too simple. Many audiences will want more from a musical, and it’s easy to spot where a few banners could have been added. At least we get flags.

Warchus brings an energy to the show that is contagious. Pleasing the crowd is an aim, but so is doing justice to the source material. Reaching a wide audience without compromise is tough and occasionally results in clunky storytelling and a few cheap jokes. But the real-life material remains compelling and, although the score never quite makes the show as inspiring as it aspires to be, there is enough humour and passion here for all involved to have a lot to be proud of.

Until 12 September 2026

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Manuel Harlan

2026

“Glengarry Glen Ross” at the Old Vic Theatre

This revival of David Mamet’s play will probably be remembered for its all-female casting. It’s a first – prominently advertised – and the twist is oddly appropriate to writing so obsessively focused on masculinity. The story of real estate salesmen, ruthless and desperate in equal measure, is made stranger, uncanny even, by director Patrick Marber and his performers. Yet, unlike the very best revivals, this production adds surprisingly little to an appreciation of the piece.

To be clear, the cast is excellent. There’s Dorothea Myer-Bennett as office manager John, revelling in the bureaucratic power over the leads that help sales. Frustrated Dave and insecure George, played by Niky Wardley and Nancy Crane, are both in danger of losing their jobs because they cannot close sales. And Shelly ‘The Machine’ Levine, one of Mamet’s most powerful creations, inspires one of Indira Varma’s finest performances. Shelley is paired with former protégé Roma, played by Rosa Salazar, whose strong portrayal helps establish a bond with Levine that is one of the few humane relationships in the show.

The cast revel in roles they surely never imagined they would get the chance to play. They embrace the absence of anything appealing about the characters – that is Mamet’s point. Marber doesn’t shy away from the ugliness of the business, and Salazar is particularly strong at showing it (the deal with a gullible client, played by Mercedes Bahleda with great reserve, is particularly uncomfortable). Yes, you can recognise the salespeople; Varma even allows you to feel sorry for Levine, and Crane creates sympathy, too. But with so much greed on display, no matter how accurate Mamet’s analysis, Glengarry Glen Ross is not an easy watch.

Being uncomfortable is part of the intention, of course. These salesfolk aren’t super successful and you can pity them. They are exploited, too, by the offstage owners Mitch and Murray, who Mamet makes so vivid. If the argument is laboured, it doesn’t feel dated. The play’s observations on capitalism and morality, made by many, are as valid as ever. But for all the skill, the production has a problem. The casting won’t convert anyone to the play. Of course, it doesn’t have to, as the show stands strong. But this is an unpleasant piece you’ll either love or hate – nothing has changed on that front.

Until 18 July 2026

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan

2026

“Hot Pot” at the Playhouse East Theatre

With a group of university friends reunited for a meal, Hongwei Bao’s play invites a culinary appraisal. There is a strong appetiser: we are introduced to China’s Rabbit God (the inspiration for TK Hay’s stylish design), the patron deity of those whose love is not recognised by the world. And Bao continues to be generous, serving up thoughtful reflections on how culture and politics have shaped the lives of his characters. If there is a fault – and it is more a matter of taste – it is that a little too much is on offer: lots of small portions rather than one satisfying main course.

As Tao, visiting home from the UK, greets his old friends, it is clear there is much to catch up on, and Windson Liong gives a strong performance as this endearing character. The members of the group are established quickly: Mei and Ming, now successful professionals, and Lin, who appears to be struggling. The performances from Shin-Fei Chen, Struan Davidson and Michelle Yim are all accomplished, and director Namoo Chae Lee ensures that the relationships between them are easy to follow. Their group dynamic is enjoyable to watch; the reminiscing and rivalry feel recognisable, even if the circumstances are specific.

The problem is that the characters are so clearly vehicles for an argument. Having graduated as journalists, they now debate censorship, with the fate of their former professor looming large. Flashbacks depicting Tao’s love affair with Ming add flavour and tension, and Liong and Davidson are particularly strong in these scenes. Yet even these tender moments are ultimately drawn into the play’s wider debate: Tao chooses freedom, while his former lover decides to “survive inside” the system. It’s clear whose side we are on – but that doesn’t make for much drama.

It’s not that any of this isn’t interesting. To learn about East Asian queer experiences is valid and important. But the script wants to serve too much. You might say there’s a danger of indigestion. Contemporary events feel shoehorned into the narrative, despite their undeniable importance. Likewise, the compromises made by Mei and Ming in pursuit of their careers, contrasted with the more rebellious paths taken by Tao and Lin, fit the play’s thematic framework a little too neatly.

The piece is sustained by the heart that so clearly lies behind it: a labour of love from the new production company Auka. At times, that enthusiasm works against the play, particularly in the more explanatory passages, which seem aimed at educating a British audience. Yet so much care has gone into both the preparation and presentation that Hot Pot  is satisfying fare.

Until 21 June 2026 and then on tour until the 5 July 202

www.playhouseeast.com

Photo by Brett Kasza

2026

‘The Last Man’ at the Southwark Playhouse

You don’t often get the chance to experience musical theatre from South Korea. For novelty, Jishik Kim’s book and lyrics and Seungyeon Kwon’s music rank highly. The originality is rewarding and, although there are flaws, The Last Man is interesting.

The subject matter – the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse – is bold for a musical. Treating it in even a relatively fresh way is impressive, although the book is a little flabby when it comes to the mechanics of survival. Horror clichés are used cleverly (the lighting design by Cheolmin Cho helps) and director Daljung Kim keeps things tense. The story becomes convincingly dark and a final twist is effective, if not entirely unexpected.

The Last Man is a one-person show (well, there’s a teddy bear, too), which is another brave move. Two performers, Nabi Brown and Lex Lee, alternate, and I had the pleasure of seeing the latter. The character of ‘The Survivor’ is well written – making them a movie buff is a great idea and their development is satisfying, particularly in the portrayal of their health, which is powerful and opens up a lot of questions. Nonetheless, while Lee’s vocal range is strong and his acting excellent, one voice does verge on the monotonous. The effort to compensate (that teddy bear again) is sweet but ineffective.

Unfortunately, the show is not helped by the music. There’s nothing offensive – there’s a strong stab at a memorable number – and the lyrics aren’t the worst I’ve heard, but the songs never quite make sense (the character’s mental state might explain this), and there aren’t enough of them. I was in danger of forgetting this was a musical.

It’s the moments explaining Korean words that truly excite. Using musical theatre to convey big concepts such as Cheong or Ingan (I loved the touch of etymology) is stirring, but it’s a big shame that there aren’t enough of them. There’s a lot of talent and good ideas behind The Last Man, but there’s a lack of focus on what might make the show stand out more.

Until 13 June 2026

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Rich Lakos

2026

“Redcliffe” at the Southwark Playhouse

It would be easy for this new debut musical – with book, music and lyrics by Jordan Luke Gage – to settle for just being a worthy affair. Happy tales about gay men in the 18th century are rare and this Bristol-based true story is no exception. As reclaimed history, it is emotional and moving. Yet the best part of Gage’s achievement are the moments of joy he provides and how he has made the show surprisingly funny.

Redcliffe is serious stuff. The action opens as two men are hanged for being homosexual. We all know where this story is going. There are songs about religion and mob mentality that add tension and make the most of the strong ensemble as a chorus. Our hero William, performed by Gage, has plenty of guilt. His lover Richard, the role taken by the excellent Daniel Krikler, has previous knowledge of how dangerous their affair is.

Gage clearly acknowledges that two hours of misery would be tough going, so his excellent book provides romance and comedy. Richard and William are swoon-worthy; the song ‘A Million Things I Know’ is funny and flirty. Not surprisingly, Gage’s romantic ballads suit his voice fantastically. There are great comic numbers, too, for Richard’s larger-than-life mother and sister – well performed by Rebecca Lock and Jess Douglas Welsh. Tilting the pressure Richard feels over getting married towards comedy is handled well, and providing strong female roles in a piece focusing on two men is refreshing.

It is the mix that makes Redcliffe musically exciting. Gage has written an accomplished collection of songs and, while they might coalesce more, there are plenty of memorable numbers here. The production serves the show well, with strong, detailed direction from Paul Foster. Emma Woods’ choreography impresses, utilising the ensemble to suggest a close community (for both good and bad). Andrew Exeter’s set works well without overpowering the action, but I am afraid I found Martin Hanly’s adventurous costume design distracting and confusing.

The second act is, predictably, grim. And it overreaches, slightly. Some of the prison scenes falter and Richard’s family’s acceptance is stirring (Lock gets a cracking number here) but too speedy. Gage’s wish to make martyrs of the men is a little too apparent (an apotheosis is a long way to travel). But perhaps that’s my cynicism. Newspapers reported that the couple kissed on the way to their execution. I can imagine Gage’s goose bumps as he read that. By the end of the show, the audience shares them.

Until 4 July 2026

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Pamela Raith

2026

“Firewing” at the Hampstead Theatre

David Pearson’s play delivers a neat scenario – a tutorial between a wildlife photographer and a young man – that covers a lot of ground. If the introduction of higher dramatic stakes doesn’t always fly, the controlled direction from Alice Hamilton is admirable and there’s a lot to interest the audience.

The relationship between elderly expert Tony and the young man he mentors, Marcus, is commendably complex but executed clumsily. The antagonism between them is so immediate it isn’t believable. Tony is too much the grumpy old man, his insights into photography pretty basic, and Marcus is a little too dumb, although the performers, Gerard Horan and Charlie Beck, try hard to introduce nuance.

The play develops well. There are issues around Tony’s professional reputation and his health. Marcus has a backstory, too – an ulterior motive for joining the masterclass, which introduces twists. Hamilton handles the pace perfectly and the cast rises to the challenge. The working -lass background that unites the men is the play’s strongest point, and highlighting the characters’ creativity leads to inspirational moments. That Pearson outlines their families vividly is impressive.

It is a shame that such a tidy affair, with a lot going for it, overreaches. A flashback to Tony’s childhood isn’t needed, although it gives the performers a chance to shine as Beck performs as young Tony and Horan as his dad. A final reunion scene lacks credibility and also feels unnecessary. Neither addition is bad, as such, but the attempt to raise the stakes with suggestions of violence and excessive sentiment feel out of place in a piece whose moments of quiet power are more potent.

Until 23 May 2026

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Pamela Raith

2026

“Entertaining MURDER” at the Gatehouse Theatre

Chris Burgess has chosen a strong subject for his murder mystery musical: the true story of Edith Thompson, who was hanged in 1923 after her lover, Freddy Bywaters, murdered her husband. The case was a sensation, due to the revelation of intimate letters exchanged between Edith and Freddy. Burgess uses this correspondence effectively and there’s a real skill in how the story is told. The production is engaging, with much to praise.

Using Edith’s sister Avis to look back on events is a device that works hard. A lot of exposition is covered efficiently by Sue Kelvin, who takes the role, and reminds us a little too often how things have changed. Moments when Avis finds those infamous letters funny, rather than upsetting, are a mistake. It’s a shame we don’t get more sense of her as a character, and it’s hard on Dora Gee, who plays a younger version of her, as she is too much in the shadow of her sister.

Other characters fare better. The husband is brought to life by the hardworking Alex Cosgriff, who plays multiple roles. Freddy, portrayed by Dominic Sullivan, is a complex blend of confused youth and tormented lover, who grows throughout the show. And Daisy Snelson shines as Edith. She proves a fascinating character, and Snelson’s nuanced performance makes her vulnerable and sad as events progress, leading the audience to question if she really planned the crime.

Burgess’s music and lyrics are not as strong as the book, being competent rather than inspired, with a touch too much cliché. His direction is more even and shows impressive discipline, propelling the action without compromising his themes. And the show gets better as it goes on. Talk of Edith’s “tall tales” – the fantasy life she lived through writing, reading and the cinema – is fascinating. The trial scenes are focused, and the whole piece becomes more adventurous. Best of all, there are surprises: a focus on the sisters, a convincing romance between Edith and Freddy and the latter’s final song. A dark and creepy number, ‘See Edith Thompson Swing’ is the culmination of the public’s interest in the story. It might arrive too late, but it is nonetheless welcome, and is part of a strong finish for the show.

Until 10 May 2026

www.upstairsatthegatehouse.com

Uncategorised

“Please Please Me” at the Kiln Theatre

It is an achievement on the part of playwright Tom Wright not to relegate music manager Brian Epstein to a footnote in the Beatles story. This Epstein is a strongly realised, complex character and a great role for Calam Lynch, who rises to the occasion. If the man’s identity as a queer Jew is pointed out a little clumsily, the piece has a lot to say. But Wright is almost too anxious to make the picture rounded. And, unfortunately for Epstein, he was surrounded by interesting people – bad for a biography but great for the audience and the actors.

The supporting cast is excellent. There’s Epstein’s dad and cousin – good roles for Arthur Wilson – and a great performance from Noah Ritter as a sexy John Lennon, while the excellent William Robinson works hard as Epstein’s best friend and two hustlers (one of whom gives the best stage punch I’ve seen for a long time). It is satisfying to note that in a play with a lot of men, the only woman gets the chance to shine. Eleanor Worthington-Cox plays Cynthia Lennon, Cilla Black, and Lennon’s formidable Aunt Mimi, and is fantastic with every wig change.

Yet the supporting characters are so strong that they too often overshadow Epstein. Despite Lynch’s fine performance, Epstein is not always the protagonist. That may be realistic enough, but it leaves the play feeling fitful. Amit Sharma’s stylish direction, aided by Jess Williams’s movement work and Tom Piper’s set design, gives the production flair. We see Epstein jostled around the stage, pushed and pulled by others while dodging the furniture. It’s a neat idea, but there remains a sense of the play being uneven rather than unsettling.

The invented scenes between Epstein and Lennon are arresting but might come too close to fan fiction for some. And Epstein’s ‘fall’, precipitated by drugs and self-loathing, seems a little too sudden. Epstein’s poetic touches are his – and Wright’s – finest moments. When waxing eloquent, the piece is transformed and elevated. Back on earth, there are problems. Maybe there isn’t enough effort to date the characters or provide a timeline for the less informed. The decriminalisation of homosexuality could be clearer, as we cover a decade so quickly that I fear confusion. Wright knows his stuff and he uses the material inventively, but there isn’t enough background to help those who are new to the story, or enough insight to please those who already know it.

Until 29 May 2026

www.kilntheatre.com

Photo by Mark Senior