Tag Archives: Maxine Doyle

“The Burnt City” from Punchdrunk

Nobody does immersive theatre like Punchdrunk. Frankly, the company puts many others using the term to shame. Working from their new home in Woolwich, the latest show from directors Felix Barrett and Maxine Doyle has been one of the theatrical highlights of 2022. It’s kind of impossible to write about it… which is one of the things that makes it so great.

It’s been a long time since Punchdrunk’s previous large-scale show, The Drowned Man, wowed audiences. This time the source material is better known – it’s the Trojan War. The scale is huge: you can wander around Troy and the Greek camp, see the battleground and the Underworld. Or not… Remember, each experience is individual; you visit at your own pace and explore what you want, so following the story isn’t as important as the overall experience.

What you are guaranteed is some fantastic dancing; the choreography by Doyle and the performances are excellent. Some of the gymnastics are astonishing given how close the audience can get to the action. And the acting is fantastic (note, not a word is spoken). Much of The Burnt City is disturbing, it’s about a war after all. And it is also creepy. There are lots of ghosts as well as gods. And characters don’t quite seem to die… hang around if you think a ‘scene’ has ended.

The famous theatrical masks that are a Punchdrunk trademark are still used. They are key, transforming the crowd into a character. With your vision impaired, it’s a unique way to feel yourself part of an audience and anonymous. But the masks are also uncomfortable. It can’t be described as a pain to see something this phenomenal… but a word of warning, it’s good to be nimble and the experience can be overwhelming. The lighting, also designed by Barrett, with F9 and Ben Donoghue is key. It is predominantly dark, to add to your trepidation, but how attention is guided by spotlighting is eerie.


There is a temptation, and an invitation, to follow a particular character but that can be a challenge. One-on-one encounters are very much in evidence, with audience members plucked from the group right from the start. It’s brilliantly done (and it’s a top tip not to get hung up about staying with whoever you went with) but I’m not sure I’d want to be singled out – all the encounters are singularly intense, and the show often borders on the uncanny and discomforting.

The enormous venue is a cleverly designed maze – the work of Barrett, Livi Vaughan and Beatrice Minns is awe inspiring. The details are astonishing and, yes, you can pick things up but put them back where you found them. There is the feel of a nightmarish funfair (actually, there is a funfair included!) and a heartrending sense of people displaced. The show can’t be said to focus – that’s down to the audience – but it is notable that civilians and women play a big part in this interpretation of the story.

One suggestion – a museum set up at the start is a pointer. Like the pots on display, the myths (and action) in The Burnt City are on repeat. Akin to characters in an illustration, they are atemporal. That might be another reason the characters don’t quite die, and I certainly lost track of time during my visit. It is all, frankly, disorientating. While following even one story is part of the fun, I’m not sure it’s possible without a lot of visits. Although plenty of trips would be no bad thing.


Promotional photos by Julian Abrams

“The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable” at the Temple Studios

When it comes to ‘immersive’ theatre, Punchdrunk are at the top of the list and their return to London with The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable is a hot contender for theatrical event of the year. Amazingly there are still some tickets left for August, so stop reading this, now, and book them.

Creating ‘The Temple Film Studios’, the production is unprecedented in its size. The scale, breathtakingly ambitious, is part of the point. As you venture around unaccompanied, ostensibly a guest at a wrap party waiting for filming to finish, you see behind the scenes and inside the minds of its inhabitants. There are spooky rooms of special effects and shrines to movie stardom, film sets and multiple characters you can choose to follow or ignore. You’re given a clue that the overriding story line follows two lovers, with infidelity driving one of them insane. You might see William killing Mary. Or vice versa. But there’s more going on here – an exploration of fantasies and fears dripping with a drug-induced hedonism. Mind-blowing stuff.

A whole movie-set town is recreated, along with a saloon bar and a cabaret room, a Twin Peaks style ball room and offices, oh, and a forest. Dancing on top of caravans? No problem. Or you might be drawn into a dressing room to watch one of the numerous cast prepare or perform some opaque ritual. But listing the sights seems to miss the point – the project is so mammoth selectivity is forced upon you and you come to live in this world rather than watch it. That each visitors experience will be unique is what makes it so especially theatrical.

Back to size again. It’s all a little overwhelming and the danger the whole thing will implode in on itself is clear. It’s no small achievement that the choreography, from Maxine Doyle, who also directed the show along with Felix Barrett, manages to makes a stand. There are times, in the dark, with the music very loud, you wonder where the action is and the sets, with Barrett working alongside Livi Vaughan and Beatrice Minns, are so crammed with detail you approach sensory overload – they even smell fantastic.

The masks the audience wear don’t make it comfortable (this seems a game for a young crowd all around) but they manage to claim back a strange intimacy for the show. They might also enable its sexiness; the plays on voyeurism are skilful and the casts’ interactions with the crowd bold. It’s a mixture of eroticism and death with a meta-text concerning the creation of our deep and dark desires that is potent. For atmosphere The Drowned Man surely can’t be beaten. It’s tempting to suggest it marks an apogee for this form of theatre that must not be missed.

Until 6 July 2014


Written 8 July 2013 for The London Magazine

“The Beggar’s Opera” at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

It’s hard to underestimate the success and importance of The Beggar’s Opera. The influence of John Gay’s satirical ballad opera is so enduring that viewing is essential for theatre lovers. As Londoners we are further obliged to attend: the premiere production paid for the construction of the first theatre in Covent Garden and the work teems with references to home that Londoners will love.

In Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre’s production, 18th-century London is masterfully evoked by William Dudley’s ambitious set. The park is cast as a pleasure garden, the criminals’ party in the shadow of Tyburn: the gallows are garlanded, the maypole formed with chains, but Newgate is only a cart ride away.

The stage is set so well that the story of love and dishonour amongst thieves speeds along. Bigamy and betrayal, awash in the ‘strong waters’ of gin, mean fists are always at the ready. Praise must be given to those often ignored in reviews – the movement and fight directors, in this case Maxine Doyle and Terry King – whose work with this Hogarthian epic never distracts from Gay’s dictionary of abuse. ‘Beggars’ is such a delicious catalogue of invective that it makes you wonder if we have lost the art of the insult.

The cast is as rude as can be. David Caves’ Captain Macheath is convincing as the sensual highwayman and Flora Spencer-Longhurst is refreshingly full blooded as Polly Peachum. But for sheer sauce Beverly Rudd steals the stage as Lucy Lockit.

The Beggar's Opera performed at The Open Air Theatre Regents Park
Beverly Rudd

Rudd is in fine voice – important since The Beggar’s Opera is essentially a musical. Director Lucy Bailey makes the laudable decision to use selections of the original score, performed superbly by The City Waites on period instruments, yet what should be the focus of the show seems like an addition.

Bailey is such an intelligent director that this reservation can be cast aside. Steeped in satire that still feels fresh, Bailey’s take on the highwayman as a celebrity makes her finale riveting and shows her understanding of this genre-busting work. She makes the importance and success of The Beggar’s Opera easy to understand.

Until 23rd July 2011


Photo by Alastair Muir

Written 30 June 2011 for The London Magazine