Sam Stopford

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

Cinderella: A Fairytale

29/11/25

Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

Look, I love a good panto as much as the next drama queen. Still, I have to admit there is something very special about this chance to see a Christmassy rendition of one of the world’s most famous fairy-tales without the distraction of all the boo-hiss-he’s-behind-you-wink-wink-nod-nod stuff. Cinderella‘s plucky orphan narrative is a compelling one, not least because of its moral certainty, where the good are rewarded and the bad are well and truly punished: there’s vengeance at play here, as well as virtue. And, in this version by Sally Cookson, Adam Peck and the Original Company, that dichotomy is writ large.

Ella (Olivia Hemmati) lives in a gloriously-realised enchanted forest, all dappled sunlight and multi-coloured birds. The home she shares with her dad (Richard Conlon) is one of those idyllic, romantically-ramshackle cottages where poor people live in story books, and she’s happy there. But when Father marries Mother (Nicole Cooper), everything changes: not only does her step-mum impose a whole raft of irritating rules, she also brings along her own two children, Sister (Christina Gordon) and Brother (Matthew Forbes), who are so priggish and uptight that Ella can’t stand them. And then, just as she’s getting used to the new regime, Father dies, leaving a grieving Ella at Mother’s mercy…

The strength of this show lies in its aesthetic: Francis O’Connor’s set and costume design evoke an ethereal other-worldliness, where magic feels eminently possible. The bird puppets (directed by Forbes and manned by Leo Shak, Stephanie Cremona and the cast) are fabulous, their rainbow plumes as appealing as they are fantastical. Even as a middle-aged woman, I’m completely captivated; how alluring must this staging be for the children in the audience?

The love story element is underplayed: Prince (Sam Stopford) is a nerdy teenage ornithologist and he and Ella strike up such a lovely, convincing friendship that the idea of their marriage seems jarring and incongruous. Director Jemima Levick wisely eschews any overt wedding pageantry, but I do wonder if it would be better to remove the romance entirely, focusing instead on the simple affection between the pair. After all, it’s not as if there’s the same financial imperative for this Ella, who seems to be living in a whimsical approximation of the contemporary world, as there was for her Grimm progenitor, who needed a husband to escape her servitude.

Cooper is obviously having a whale of a time as the odious Mother, camping up her tantrums and cruelty to create a deliciously-devilish interpretation of the character. The protracted toe-chopping sequence – the production’s only real nod to the folk story’s dark heart – is a gruesome highlight. Meanwhile, Gordon and Forbes’ Ugly Siblings are more sympathetic and nuanced than their traditional counterparts, frightened and corrupted by their toxic mum – and clearly redeemable. Carly Anderson has less to do as Queen, who appears here as a slightly-sozzled, benignly-bemused socialite. It’s an interesting take on the role but she is under-used.

Jon Beales’ music and Emily Jane Boyle’s choreography complement each other perfectly, enhancing the story and ensuring the pace never flags.

All in all, this is a delightful production, and one that is sure to enthral audiences of all ages this festive season.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield