This thought-provoking monologue, written and performed by Henri Merriam, is impressive throughout. The story of one woman’s search for love – and a troubled relationship – is sincere, insightful and full of ideas.
The pacing, impeccably handled by director Sophia Capasso, is skilful. The woman looks back on her childish ideas of Love with a florid L, inspired by Disney and Celine Dion (they’ve both got a lot to answer for). The tone is observational, the character is appealing, and Merriam has a knack for comedy, despite dark moments.
Tension mounts as a relationship progresses (some of this is not for the faint-hearted). From dating and marriage to lockdown, therapy and divorce, each period gets attention. There are fascinating links to how women are viewed by society, the pressures placed on them and how they subsequently judge themselves. But, throughout, Capasso keeps the action swift so that the show never feels like a lecture. The production is aided by fine sound design from Frazer Merrick and Shahaf Beer’s set – a chest of drawers full of surprises.
If there’s a problem, it’s that the story is not new. The guy, whose voice we hear through recordings, is awful. The gaslighting and abuse are clear and predictable. It isn’t Merriam’s fault, but the piece becomes depressingly familiar. The show is saved by strong acting and, in a satisfying twist, by the woman herself.
Calling on religion and mythology, embracing the darker side of her nature, seems to be the way out. From chats with the serpent in the Garden of Eden to imagining herself as a vengeful Medusa, there’s a playful edge that might be further explored. The conclusion leaves the audience wanting more for itself and, more importantly, more for the protagonist.
Until 13 September 2026
Photo credit Scott Godding