Bombay Bistro

01/03/26

Bruntsfield Place, Edinburgh

We’re meeting up with a couple of pals for lunch and we’ve been hearing good things about Bombay Bistro in Bruntsfield, just a short walk from where we live. Located in the premises that previously housed Tom Kitchin’s much-missed Southside Scran – and, more recently, the same chef’s Kora) the BB’s Mandeep Saini (formally of Gleneagles Hotel), has been based here for several months now, and he promises ‘a fresh take on traditional Indian cuisine.’

As soon as we’re inside, we can see that the interior decor hasn’t changed much. It’s very quiet this Sunday afternoon, which is a shame, since the Prawn Biryani I plump for is deliciously spiced and mouth-wateringly aromatic. It needs to be sampled by more hungry diners. For my money, it’s up there with the best that Dishoom has to offer. Across the table, one of our friends is enjoying the chicken version of the same dish, and we’ve both chosen a peshwari nan to accompany our main course, which is light, sweet and crispy, exactly as it should be.

Our other friend has ordered Rava Fry Haddock with Masala Chips, two enormous fish fillets shallow-fried in spiced semolina and served with tadka mushy peas and the aforementioned fries, which have just a hint of spice about them. She deems the meal ‘delicious’ but can’t manage to finish it all. Susan, meanwhile, has opted for the Masala Broccoli and Pumpkin Superfood Salad, which features spinach, kale, avocado, coconut flakes and dried cranberries. She adds some Salmon Tikka and the combination proves to be a hit.

All in all, the main courses have wowed us, particularly in view of the prices, which offer good value for money. The two puddings we sample are also pretty good, even if they don’t quite attain the heights of their magnificent predecessors. There’s a mango and coconut kheer, that can be served warm or cold; and there’s a perfectly decent sticky toffee pudding, served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. However, neither dessert is hot enough: the rice pudding is only lukewarm and the sticky toffee is served cold, making it a little too dry. But these are minor quibbles and pretty much the only criticisms I have.

Those looking for excellent Indian cuisine that won’t make too big a dent on the finances should head up to Bruntsfield at their earliest opportunity and sample Mandeep’s creations for themselves.

4 stars

Phillip Caveney

Fairytales ’26

28/02/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

This evening’s scratch night features three works-in-progress, co-written and directed by Jordan S Daniel and Tash McPhillips. If the title makes you think of happy-ever-afters, you’ll need to manage your expectations. There are no wicked step-families either, no magic beans, no once-upon-a-times.

Instead, we are introduced to Cleo (Samuela Noumtchuet), Mark (Kieran Lee-Hamilton) and Jaye (Amandine Jalon), each with an individual tale to tell. Cleo is an AI sex-bot, who wants to become a real woman. Think Pinocchio, but grown up. Next is Mark, a modern version of the big bad wolf: an incel, huffing and puffing at women for not desiring him, certain it’s because they’re shallow and nothing to do with him being creepy AF. And finally, there’s Jaye, as innocent and hopeful as Hans Christian Andersen’s little mermaid, escaping the confines of their provincial life to seek forbidden love in London. But their excitement at living openly as a lesbian soon sours, when they learn that their new girlfriend is transphobic, and the brave new city they’ve embraced is not as accepting as it first seems.

The actors all perform with gusto. Noumtchuet in particular plays up the comedic elements of her role, much to the delight of tonight’s supportive audience, who respond with gales of laughter. Lee-Hamilton successfully conveys the loathsome Mark’s sense of peevish entitlement, while Jalon engages our sympathy for Jaye, as their dreams of a happy life begin to crumble around them.

The three monologues deal with some of the most thought-provoking, urgent issues of our times, and for this I commend them. However, the polemic is sometimes overwhelming, making me feel as if I am listening to a lecture. As these works-in-progress are developed into longer pieces, I’m sure there will be more space for nuance, allowing the themes to be illuminated rather than stated – shown, not told.

There’s no denying the importance of the topics raised by Daniel and McPhillips, and I’m glad to see that Scottish theatre is doing the right thing and giving a platform to queer voices.

Susan Singfield

The Events

27/02/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

The opening moments of The Events could hardly be more congenial, as Chaplain Claire (Claire Lamont) welcomes the large group of people who comprise her community choir. They gather, greet each other and perform a few joyful songs – and, since there’s a drinks trolley on stage, they offer people in the audience a tea or coffee. The drinks are made and duly dispensed. The atmosphere is warm, relaxed and celebratory.

And then The Boy (Sam Stopford) walks in and the mood changes dramatically. It’s clear from the outset that he is here to brutally destroy everything that Claire and her followers stand for – and something heinous swiftly ensues. One of the strengths of David Greig’s affecting play is that it takes its time revealing what has actually happened. Instead, we’re taken to the aftermath of the titular events, to see Claire trying to make sense of them, attempting to evaluate her own reactions to the tragedy.

In her desperate search to come up with answers, she talks to different people about what happened on that fateful day. Stopford slips effortlessly into the different roles, giving each character’s take on the subject. A writer, a politician, Claire’s partner, Catriona – each of them attempting to communicate their own perspective. The overpowering quest for answers takes Claire to the very brink of her own sanity and even sees her contemplating revenge.

Director Jack Nurse keeps the audience riveted throughout the play, aided by Becky Minto’s deceptively simple set design and Lizzie Powell’s vibrant lighting. Both Lamont and Stopford give powerful, and compelling performances in their very different roles, while the members of the seventeen-strong choir add songs that range from upbeat to melancholic.

There’s a moment of coup de théâtre that quite literally makes me gasp – and a resolution that drops the final piece into place.

Ultimately, The Events is about forgiveness, about coping with unimaginable distress. It’s about the complex process of healing. This is a powerful production from Wonder Fools with some surprising – and uplifting – twists in the telling.

4. 4 stars

Philip Caveney

Our Town

21/02/26

Theatr Clwyd, Yr Wyddgrug

Why can’t everybody be like Michael Sheen? He’s an inspiration in the truest sense of the word: a dream combo of determination, integrity, generosity and vision. When the National Theatre of Wales lost its Arts Council funding and subsequently shut down, most of us wrung our hands and despaired. Not Mr Sheen. If Wales needed a national theatre, he thought, then the only question was how to deliver it.

And the answer was: he’d pay for it. He’s been a ‘not-for-profit’ actor since 2021, using his considerable income to fund social causes and charitable projects. And what could be closer to a Welsh thespian’s heart than an institution dedicated to producing, promoting and preserving his beloved Cymru’s theatrical culture?

And so the Welsh National Theatre was born, and here we are – Philip, Mum and I – at the newly-refurbished Theatr Clwyd, ready to see its inaugural production, Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. Although this quintessentially American play seems an odd choice for a Welsh debut, any doubts I have are soon expelled as the production gets underway. Despite the fact that the fictional Grover’s Corners has a very specific location (Wilder describes it as “in New Hampshire, just across the Massachusetts line,” and even provides us with fake co-ordinates), its gentle exploration of everyday life has a universal quality that makes it applicable to small towns everywhere.

Ultimately, Our Town is a celebration of community: an ensemble piece with no sensational storylines or great climactic moments. If that sounds boring, don’t be misled. The whole point of this play is to embrace the ordinary, to highlight the little things that make life worthwhile.

Sheen plays the Stage Manager, a meta-theatrical character who breaks the fourth wall and addresses the audience, narrating and commenting on the action as it unfolds over twelve years.

We first meet the townsfolk in Act 1 (“Daily Life”). It’s 1901 and neighbours Emily Webb (Yasemin Özdemir) and George Gibbs (Peter Devlin) are teenagers, about to graduate high school. Their respective parents, Editor and Mrs Webb (Rhodri Meilir and Nia Roberts) and Dr and Mrs Gibbs (Gareth Tempest and Sian Reese-Williams), represent the steady, family-focused nature of the town. They are good people, not especially ambitious, but determined to provide a secure base for their children, and hopeful that they too will lead decent, contented lives.

Act 2 (which follows without a break) is titled “Love and Marriage” and takes us forward in time to 1904. Emily and George, now 19 years old, are about to tie the knot. There are nerves, excitement, doubts and reassurances – and, ultimately, a joyful wedding.

The twenty-minute interval precedes a distinct shift in tone. The third act (“Death and Eternity”) is almost unbearably poignant. Nine years have passed – and so have some of Grover’s Corners’ inhabitants, including Mrs Soames (Christina Modestou) and alcoholic choir director Simon Stimson (Rhys Warrington). Emily’s little brother, Wally (Aisha-May Hunte), has died of a burst appendix, while George’s mother has succumbed to pneumonia. Their ghosts perch on ladders in the cemetery, looking down on their loved ones as they grieve. The spirits lament the living’s incapacity to notice the small moments, their lack of appreciation for the minutiae of life.

Director Francesca Goodridge manages the pace well: although Grover’s Corners is a tranquil town, the piece still feels vibrant and active, even as it slows down for its final, contemplative third. Movement director Jess Williams’ transitions emphasise the sense of community, as the cast work together to move the simple props, constructing ephemeral churches, public buildings and people’s homes, lending a meditative quality to the play.

In accordance with Wilder’s stage directions, the minimalist set works well: it’s amazing what can be achieved with a few planters and some planks of wood. But I’m especially impressed by the decision to use naturalistic props for the section when a ghost (I won’t reveal whose) goes back to relive a fondly-remembered birthday. Until now, everything has been mimed or suggested, but suddenly we have a real table, real chairs, actual bread dough being kneaded, bowls, cutlery, table cloths, the lot. I love the simplicity of the symbolism, as the ghost appreciates the details that the living take for granted.

Our Town is a triumph, a testament to what can be achieved when rich people give back to the communities that raised them.

Da iawn, Welsh National Theatre. And diolch yn fawr, Michael Sheen.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

“Wuthering Heights”

15/02/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I’ll be the first to admit: I’m not the biggest fan of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights. I love its complexity, its uncompromising depiction of broken people and the wildness at its heart, but it just doesn’t speak to me as clearly as, say, Jane Eyre, Villette or The Tenant of Wildefell Hall. I’m not denying the author’s genius, but – for me – there are too many narrative layers between the reader and the central story; I don’t want the Lockwood and Nelly Dean filters. And, let’s be honest, it’s all a bit histrionic, isn’t it?

Emerald Fennell certainly leans into the melodrama in this sumptuous interpretation, and she’s sensibly expunged Lockwood (whatever purpose he serves on the page, it doesn’t translate well to film). However, some of the other changes are genuinely baffling. It’s like she’s made an adaptation of an earlier movie rather than the novel. It’s also – dare I say it? – like she doesn’t really get the book.

Let’s start with the most glaring problem: Heathcliff. He’s played by two perfectly competent actors: first Owen Cooper and then, in a sudden age-defying leap, Jacob Elordi. There’s no problem with their performances but, let’s face it, neither is right for the part – and not just because Elordi is a decade too old.

They’re white; Heathcliff isn’t.

While I’m not someone who expects screen adaptations to be exact replicas of their source material, I do think that something as fundamental to the character as Heathcliff’s race can’t simply be erased. His outsider status stems from the fact that he is visibly different from those around him; he is deemed an unsuitable match for Cathy because of his unknown ethnicity. Racism is the reason he’s rejected. It matters that he’s found at the Liverpool docks and not just the village pub. He’s persona non grata from the start. It also seems an odd decision to cast British Pakistani, Shazad Latif, as Edgar Linton. Why not swap the two leads?

What’s more, Fennell bottles out when it comes to Heathcliff’s monstrosity. She depicts him as a romantic hero, but that’s the antithesis of what Brontë wrote. The novel’s Heathcliff is a nuanced character, at once sexy, pitiful, admirable and monstrous. Like Frankenstein’s creature (a better casting for Elordi), we are shown the trauma that destroys him, but we also see the nasty brute that he becomes. Fennell’s iteration lets him off the hook: he’s not cruel or abusive, just too deeply in love. Making Isabella (Alison Oliver)’s degradation consensual is horribly tin-eared, especially the moment Heathcliff demonstrates that she could easily get away if she wanted to. I don’t think you need to be particularly socially aware to know that “Why doesn’t she just leave?” is a harmful, victim-blaming trope when it comes to domestic violence.

Leaving aside the obvious issue with Fennell deciding to omit the second half of the story, there are two further choices I need to question. First, why has Hindley been deleted from the tale? His role is shared between Mr Earnshaw (Martin Clunes) and Nelly Dean (Hong Chau): the former physically abuses Heathcliff, while the latter is jealous after being displaced in Cathy’s affections, and neither response rings true. And second, why doesn’t Cathy’s baby live? One of Wuthering Heights‘ main themes is emotional inheritance – but there’s nobody here to represent the next generation. It seems a glaring loss.

Novel aside, there are also some problems with the film itself. Everything is so over-the-top that it’s hard to take seriously. From Isabella’s “ribbon room” to Mr Earnshaw’s ridiculous alcohol-bottle mountains (never mind that he’s famously broke, glass was expensive back then and he’d have been more likely to get his booze in a refillable ceramic jug), there’s no subtlety here at all.

Is there anything to like? Yes. Charlotte Mellington and Margot Robbie both play Cathy well, although – like Elordi – Robbie is way too old for the role (Cathy is only supposed to be 18 when she dies, and Robbie is almost double that). The intensity of Cathy and Heathcliff’s relationship is convincingly drawn, and I love the black, red and white colour palette. The moors are perfectly windswept and gloomy, and the portrayal of an impoverished gentry clinging to its name is clear-eyed and unsentimental. I also quite like the music, with a score by Anthony Willis and an album’s worth of original songs by Charli XCX.

But, in the end, that’s not enough. This feels like a wasted opportunity from a promising young director whose blind spots have thwarted her passion project.

2.5 stars

Susan Singfield

Nouvelle Vague

15/02/26

Filmhouse, Edinburgh

I’m a longtime fan of American director, Richard Linklater, and I suspect that what I like most about him is his eclecticism: I never know what kind of thing he’s going to come up with next. Despite this, the advance word about Nouvelle Vague comes as a genuine surprise. It’s about the filming of Breathless (A Bout de Souffle), shot on location in Paris and featuring a cast of (mostly) French actors speaking their own language. There are so many elements here that could have gone spectacularly wrong – and, of course, there were plenty of nay-sayers concerned about cultural appropriation. But no worries, this film is in an unqualified delight from start to finish.

It’s 1959 and the various members of the influential group of film critics known as Cahiers du Cinéma are starting to make their respective marks on the industry. François Truffaut (Adrien Rouyard) is about to wow the audience at Cannes with his debut feature, The 400 Blows, and Claude Chabrol (Antoine Besson) has also made an impact with a self-financed film, Le Beau Serge. But the group’s leading light, Jean-Luc Godard (Guillame Marbec), has yet to dip his toes into directorial waters.

At Cannes, he manages to persuade veteran film producer George de Beauregard (Bruno Dreyfűrst) to finance his debut, which will be loosely based around a script conceived by Truffaut, itself inspired by the misadventures of real-life car thief, Michel Portail. Luc Godard has already signed affable young actor Jean Paul Belmondo (Aubry Dullin) for the lead role, but when the director bumps into American star, Jean Seberg (Zooey Deutch), fresh from her role in Bonjour Tristesse, he becomes convinced that she is the only woman who can play the second lead in his movie and sets about doing everything he can to persuade her to come on board.

But, back in Paris, budget in place and cast duly assembled, it soon becomes clear that Luc Godard has his own ideas about how a film should be directed – and they’re not like anything that’s gone before…

Marbec is brilliant as the chain-smoking, brooding Luc Godard, totally convinced of his own genius and, frankly, a bit of a knob, disregarding every bit of advice he’s given by more experienced friends. His casual approach causes Beauregard enough stress to drive him to the edge of a nervous breakdown. The novice director pretty much always uses the first take (though he rarely bothers to watch it back) and has a habit of calling a halt to the day’s shoot after a couple of hours’ work, simply because he’s ‘feeling peckish.’ Both Deutch and Dullin are eerie lookalikes for their real life counterparts, and the film effortlessly captures the frantic day-to-day shooting process that against all the odds, would result in one of the most groundbreaking films in movie history.

But lest I’ve made this sound like a worthy slog aimed at cinephiles, don’t be misled. Nouvelle Vague is an absolute breeze, fast, funny and utterly charming. Just like the film it’s homaging, it was shot on location in Paris with a tiny budget and no special effects, yet it somehow manages to capture the look and feel of a lost era with absolute conviction.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

The Flames

14/02/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

The Flames is a Tricky Hat Theatre Company for over 50s – and it’s a glorious example of the merits of community theatre. Here, twenty-two amateur performers gather to share their stories, which are then shaped into a cohesive series of vignettes by professional directors, Fiona Miller and Scott Johnston. As an audience member, I find it powerful and life-affirming. For the participants, I’m sure it’s potently therapeutic.

Thanks to choreographer Laura Bradshaw, the piece eddies and flows in a way that feels almost elemental. Set to Malcolm Ross’s gentle score, performed live on an electric guitar, the movement is precise and careful. It’s also wild at times, as varied as the tide. I especially like the super-slow-mo section – where one actor is speaking centre-stage and the others are placing their chairs and sitting on them so gradually that the motion is barely discernible – followed immediately by a change of pace, as the actors rush to surround the speaker.

The stories are short, focusing on those small moments that make a life. Love, loss, outrage, joy – they’re all here. One woman remembers a hat that saves her from falling cicadas, another a psychopath who declared his love. A widow asks if we believe in love at first sight, and recalls the day she met her husband. A shell-shocked man tells us about his wife’s cancer diagnosis. We hear about sibling rivalry, domestic violence, fun days out and so much more. Even within this not-very-diverse looking ensemble, there are myriad experiences.

The production levels are high – this is a polished and impressive piece of theatre – thanks in no small part to Kim Beveridge’s digital design. Projected onto the backdrop is monochrome video footage of the performers: sometimes in extreme close-up, highlighting their emotions; sometimes mid-shots, focusing on the bonds that have formed between them.

This is am-dram with a difference, deeply personal and beautifully crafted.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Kiss Me Kate

14/02/26

Church Hill Theatre, Edinburgh

Seemingly tailor-made for Valentine’s Day consumption, Kiss Me Kate is an ambitious undertaking for any company, but Edinburgh University Footlights handle it with their customary skill. From the first strains of Another Ope’nin, Another Show, the twenty-two strong cast unleash an absolute barn stormer of a production, backed by a 15-strong band.

Theatre impresario Fred Graham (Ewan Rotherston) is putting on his production of The Taming of the Shrew and has also taken on the lead role of Petruchio. He has somehow persuaded his former wife, Lilli Vanessi (Nina Birbeck), to return to the stage after a long absence as the titular Katherine. It soon becomes apparent that the two of them still have unfinished business. Arguments inevitably ensue and further complications arise thanks to lead dancer, Bill Calhoun (Dan Bryant). He’s currently playing Lucentio whilst romancing the show’s flighty Bianca, Lois Lane (Elham Khosravipour) – a woman who seems to have had relationships with just about every man in the vicinity.

When Bill gets involved in a shady poker game and loses a large amount of money, it emerges that he’s cheekily ‘borrowed’ Fred’s identity. Suddenly, the production finds itself with two new additions to the cast: a couple of gangsters (Bella Cripwell and Christiana Doe), who are determined to ensure that the show is successful enough to pay off Bill’s massive debt…

With music and lyrics by the legendary Cole Porter, Kiss Me Kate offers a clever ‘show within a show’ framework, and it’s liberally peppered with memorable songs and frenetic dance routines. Both Rotherston and Birbeck have incredible vocal ranges (Birbeck’s unfettered performance of I Hate Men is a particular standout), while Bryant dances up a storm throughout and Khosravipour embodies the mischievous Lois with relish. Her rendition of every Tom, Dick or Harry is a hoot.

But of course in productions like this, the ensemble work is essential and choreographers Lysa Britton and Caitlin Visser have drilled the cast to perfection. The rendition of Too Darn Hot which opens the second half, led by an athletic Paul (Aaron Ventnor), threatens to blow the roof off the theatre.

And naturally, those two unnamed gangsters are an integral part of the show as they increasingly muscle their way into proceedings until they are performers in their own right. Hilariously personified by Cripwell and Doe, they add the final flourish to a dazzling production. If you don’t come out of this singing Brush Up Your Shakespeare, there’s clearly no hope for you.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

[Un]lovable: a Work-in-Progress Performance

13/02/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Not So Nice Theatre Company presents a Valentine’s scratch-night with an acerbic edge, showing excerpts from five works-in-progress, all inspired by the prompt, ‘Unlovable’. In the run up to February 14th, the world is awash with heart-shaped tat and exhortations to be romantic. But sometimes life just doesn’t pan out that way…

First up is Clown Divorce, written by Russ Russell and directed by Sarah Docherty. We first meet Clown (Chris Veteri) as he struggles to push a suitcase across the stage. The visual gag is funny precisely because of its predictability: as the drawn out routine builds to its inevitable conclusion, the laughs it receives are very well-earned. Along the way, we begin to notice small details. Clown isn’t wearing any shoes, his socks have blood on them – and where is his red nose? The clue is in the title. Clown has recently divorced, and has lost half of his identity in the process…

Next, we have Wish Me Luck by Melissa Ainsworth. Cassie (Hannah-Mae Engstorm) has just been dumped and is contemplating jumping in front of a bus. Not that she wants to kill herself, mind. She just wants to grab her ex’s attention. But passer-byJamie (Jamie Cowan) isn’t about to stand by and watch it happen. Not after everything he’s been through… Directed by Adele Tunnicliff, WML has an intriguing premise, but needs more time to do justice to the complex issues it raises.

The final piece of the first act is Ryan Lithgow’s three-hander Tit for Tat, starring Veteri (again) as Nathan, Stan Ross as Darcey and Samuela Noumtchuet as Ellie. Under Cormac Myles’ direction, this is a tense dissection of a relationship, the two men veering from hurt and hostility to an uneasy admission that their anger stems from a place of love. However, Noumtchuet is under-used as Ellie: the character’s sudden, unexpected appearance ought to herald a change in pace or tone, but the men’s dialogue continues in much the same vein as before, as they rehash their past.

The standout piece comes after the interval: Emma McCaffrey’s funny and heartbreaking monologue, La Solitude, directed by Becca Donley. We’re well aware of McCaffrey’s prowess as a performer (we have seen them in Lung Ha’s Castle Lennox and Stella Quines’ Disciples) but this is our first experience of them as a playwright and I suspect it won’t be the last. The piece is beautifully written with just the right amount of levity to carry its serious points. At once laugh-out-loud funny, poignant and provocative, this is an intensely thought-provoking play. McCaffrey is Lee, a lively, engaging young woman, who – like McCaffrey – has autism and learning difficulties. We first meet her as a child, eight years old, receiving a diagnosis she doesn’t understand and which nobody explains to her. All she knows is that it makes her parents cry. As a teenager, she is isolated at school, infantilised by teachers and support workers, unable to make friends. And things don’t improve when she reaches adulthood: Lee can’t live independently, but that doesn’t mean she’s a child; it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a job, a social life, or – heaven forfend – a love life. Why shouldn’t she?

Last up, we have Defective, written and directed by Not So Nice’s own AD, Grace Ava Baker. We’re in the near future and Abigail (Indigo Buchanan) has just given birth. The Assessor (Eleanor Tate) has some bad news… With a premise akin to Minority Report, Defective explores the idea of original sin from a mother’s perspective. Is nature really so much more important than nurture? What price are we prepared to pay for a safer society? And whose word should we accept about our children’s destiny? Although the ending is a little muddled – without giving too much away, I don’t understand what Abigail does with that syringe – this is a compelling piece, raising some important questions about autonomy.

All in all, this is an thoroughly entertaining evening, a welcome antidote to all the red roses and slushy poetry.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Romeo and Juliet

12/02/26

Pleasance Theatre, Edinburgh

EUSC’s Romeo and Juliet sets out to perform the ‘world’s greatest love story’ without resorting to any of the tricks and gimmicks we’ve lately come to expect from such productions. You know the kind of thing. R&J, only it’s set in 1960’s Bradford – or R&J, as envisioned by Sergio Leone – on a trampoline. No, here it’s played completely straight and what’s more, we get the full text, which clocks in at over three hours in duration. There are twenty performers all giving it their best and there’s no faulting the lofty ambition that powers this production.

Of course, there’s also no disguising the fact that of the immortal bard’s many works, this one features one of his battiest ever plots. Welcome to Verona, where two rival families, the Montagues and the Capulets are gleefully slicing chunks off each other at every opportunity. Romeo (Sam Gearing), the son of Montague (Hal Hobson), wanders moodily through the carnage, observing the action but doing very little to help. He’s currently madly in love with Rosaline (Connie Bailie) who – rather awkwardly – is a Capulet, and therefore out of bounds. But after briefly bumping into Juliet (Anya McChristie) at a masked ball, he’s doesn’t hesitate to switch his affections to her instead… but naturally, she’s a Capulet too. Doh!

But why am I telling you all this? Everybody knows the story of the star-crossed lovers and most of us are familiar with the major players in the story. Director Salvador Kent handles all the characters with aplomb, but sometimes Ella Catherall’s sound design swamps important lines of dialogue – and while Jack Read’s lighting is often striking and atmospheric, too often the faces of actors are lost in the gloom as they recite their soliloquies..

I like the fact that the simple but striking set centres on that all-important balcony and I enjoy McChristie’s effusive and optimistic Juliet, who strides fearlessly into each successive plot twist. Rufus Goodman’s Benvolio meets every complication with a weary shrug and Noah Sarvesaran’s super-charged Mercutio is a particular delight, as he leaps and whirls around the stage as though defying gravity itself. (His death at the beginning of the second act makes me wish he could have hung on a bit longer). Hunter King has the necessary gravitas as Friar Laurence to deliver one of history’s most unbelievable plot devices with absolute authority. ‘Just drink this serum that will make you appear to be dead for two and forty hours and all will be well.’ What could possibly go wrong?

The swordplay scenes are a step up from the usual student productions thanks to the fight direction of Rebecca Mahar and Cooper Mortlock – but I’m rather less convinced by a decision to dress both Montague (Hal Hobson) and Capulet (Tai Remus-Elliot) in the same Chaplinesque costumes, their faces smeared with makeup. Is this to suggest that their characters are essentially interchangeable? I’m not entirely sure.

But overall, this is an admirable production that has much to commend it and the story (silly plot twists notwithstanding) is delivered in epic style.

4 stars

Philip Caveney