Worlds clash once again in Mike Bartlett’s universe. Lip and Ruth’s pull to return to nature is disrupted when Ruth’s stepdaughter, Millie, and her academically inclined best friend, Femi, visit the couple’s earthy homestead. This rural idyll, where the sky is enormous and the trees tell a story of their own, is suddenly disturbed by brutal talks of capitalist wars and nihilism while the economics of permaculture are discussed. What happens when ecological extremism starts to look like a sensible decision? Should we put our planet before our family? Generations lock horns, blame becomes currency, and the land watches on in three big scenes divided by two intervals. It’s all very Mike Bartlett-y.

We meet Jamie and Ruby as they’re planning their wedding playlist. What follows is a collection of vignettes that lead up to the big day. Playwright Will Jackson drafts a flawed piece for the 18-25 Bush Young Company. Directed by Katie Greenall, it could be the personal exploration of a society that continuously forces us into our assigned roles, but it comes off as if the writing is simply ticking off a list of pertinent sociopolitical issues. Featuring anxiety, anti-genocide activism, eldest daughter syndrome, the housing crisis, suicide, and more, it’s a lot. Combine that with a cast of 17 young actors who all need to do something, and most productions would be in danger of becoming messy. 

We are delighted to report that real fringe theatre is back. The invigorating, daring, challenging, form-subverting kind of venture that makes the stage its playground. We haven’t encountered anything like this since before Covid. There isn’t a lot of theatre with specifically scientific research as its core, either. Commercially, The Effect (Lucy Prebble’s play about a clinical trial) had a revival in 2023 with Jamie Lloyd at the helm and Caryl Churchill’s evergreen reflection on human-cloning, A Number, was on just the year before (curiously, both starred Paapa Essiedu). Looking away from the West End, it’s even harder to find something that sits firmly at the junction with science. Three Billion Letters swoops in at the rescue and begs you to think. Created by TAKDAJA, the piece is a heady mix of data and experimentalism. Does our DNA control more than our eye colour and predisposition to illness? How do we determine our identity? There’s so much gene-ius in it. 

Two joints, both alike in dignity: Monty’s Tacos and Caps Bar. The high street isn’t big enough for the rival families. Shakespeare’s tale of young love and civil bloodshed comes alive in a gripping community-oriented rendition at Stratford East. Adapted by Kwame Owusu and co-directed by Emily Ling Williams and Malik Nashad Sharpe (who also choreographed it), it sees a staggering 38-strong cast of professional performers alongside young artists from the venue’s own training program and representatives of the public. The result is a fresh, energetic, galvanising production infused with music and dance that digs into the more romantic side of the play to deliver an excessively naive interpretation. It’s a springboard for many members of the acting company, but the vision lacks stability.

What did our critic think of SING STREET at Lyric Hammersmith Theatre?

The recent statistics surrounding alcohol consumption in the UK are frankly staggering. Across the four nations, around 80% of adults are regular drinkers, and a significant number of them drink way above the Chief Medical Officers’ low-risk guidelines. The country’s drinking culture is out of hand and few of us pay it much mind. Shows like The White Chip burst onto the scene in a blaze of counter-action, reframing a problem that is standard behaviour for many. After all, how can you let loose without sipping on something? 

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that bisexuals are often underserved when it comes to theatre and media. Poltergeist thriller Ivories valiantly sweeps in at the close of Pride Month, but it over-promises and under-delivers. Beyond the messy and exceedingly protracted set-up, lies a great story that will delight all queer fans of the genre. After all, an eerie old house, a dying grandmother, and a bunch of secrets bound for the grave are the bones of any good spooky summer horror.