Regular reviews of new London theatre, from the West End and the National Theatre to the fringe, plus occasional dispatches from around the UK and beyond.

From bragging boys to haggard men

The Weir, Donmar Warehouse, London

Conor McPherson writes plays that feel simple but are tied together with such skill, the themes as delicate as silk, lightly binding everything together but never squeezing too tight.

Gleeful, distilled creativity

Orpheus, Battersea Arts Centre, London

The show pulses with the kind of knowing naivete that is now Little Bulb’s trademark. Everything – even the hugely sophisticated and high-end stuff – is performed with a great big twinkle in the eye.

Every twitch, moan and flicker of the eyes

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Apollo Theatre, London

There are no tangible divisions or barriers in Christopher’s world. When he walks about the streets, trying to track down the murderer of the neighbour’s dog, the houses have no walls. Christopher’s world is a without boundaries – or, at least, without divisions that he can easily recognise or understand.

Bloody exposing

The Trial, Shoreditch Town Hall and beyond, London

But for much of the time, we’re simply badgered and bullied by a number of aggressive types, the threat of execution held – ridiculously – over our heads. It feels silly. It also feels completely out of synch with Kafka’s novel, which doesn’t look death in the eye until the very final moment.

Fill in the gaps

Steptoe and Son, Lyric Hammersmith, London

The classic Kneehigh touches - the karaoke sessions, a moon that doubles up as a clock and the spooky cold music that trembles beneath every scene - only make the dialogue sound weaker still. While these kooky visual and aural touches scream out ‘THEATRE’, the dialogue whispers ‘television’.

Gruesome and abstract

Ring, Battersea Arts Centre, London

This disorientating disconnect between sound and reality lies at the heart of this show. At first, we resist the obvious inconsistencies between what we hear and what we know to be possible. But the 3D soundscape, which is so convincing and so overwhelming, gradually wears us down

No need to shout

If you don't let us dream, we won't let you sleep, Royal Court Theatre, London

Everything becomes grindingly over-explicit, as the ‘austerity’ measures are picked apart by an angry throng. There are a few gems of economic insight in here but it’s really tough to stay engaged.

Brilliantly complex perspectives

The Paper Cinema's Odyssey, Battersea Arts Centre, London

When Odysseus and Penelope are finally reunited, the stark black and white set is suddenly flooded with colour. It feels like nothing less than the beginning of a new and better world.

A museum of oddities

In the Beginning Was The End, Somerset House, London

Suddenly we expect to be led; for the show to have a beginning, middle and end and for our questions to be answered. Expectations are raised and disappointed. 

Dissociating from life

The Promise, Trafalgar Studios, London

His jaw muscles clench as he chews over his options. Watch his left hand – the one his opposite number is missing – and it every move is pointed. It rests on the table or drops gracefully on the back of a chair.

Fish fingers in the oven, peas on the hob

Medea, Richmond Theatre, London

Her head’s a mess and her hair’s in an even worse state. No wonder that prying neighbours and colleagues keep popping over to check up on her; Rachael Stirling looks like she’s shortcircuiting and set to blow.

Very Etchells indeed

Sight is the Sense that Dying People Tend to Lose First, Battersea Arts Centre, London

And what a pleasure it is to mull such vagaries in Fletcher’s company. He has an extraordinary capacity to engage, doling out eye contact around an audience in such a way that makes you feel certain statements are intended for you alone, sometimes accusatory, sometimes almost a gift.

Dazzling and laughter

Kiss Me, Kate, Old Vic Theatre, London

Yes, it’s there in the central love story between ‘Katherine’ and ‘Petruchio’ but this musical isn’t really about the love between a man and a woman. It’s about Cole’s love for theatre. As the two gangsters find their groove, their eyes light up. And, when the applause comes, they take endless encores.

The impression of love?

The Effect, National Theatre (Cottesloe), London

There’s a glorious and typically pertinent scene, when the two escape to a nearby loony asylum. It’s no coincidence that it is here – in this abandoned mad house – that the two patients fall in love. As every good writer will tell us, the line between love and insanity is an absurdly fine one.

A tiny crumb of comfort

All That Fall, Arts Theatre, London

It all sounds horribly miserable – but that’s the thing about Beckett, he piles up the despair with such care and such a twinkle that rich humour always glistens between those packed layers of sadness.