Andrew Bovell is a world renowned Australian playwright with whose work A48 Theatre Company founder Ray Thomas became familiar when he toured a collaborative Welsh and Australian production of “Do Not Go Gentle”, starting at Chapter Arts Centre and finishing at The Drill Hall Theatre in New South Wales in 2017.

After the success of “When The Rain Stops Falling” at Chapter in 2022, A48 Theatre Company chose “Things I Know To Be True”, another of Andrew Bovell’s plays, for the current production which runs from March 25-30th at Llanover hall arts centre, Romilly Road, Cardiff .

The play is bookended by night-time scenes at the Price family home when the ringing living-room phone wakes up the household. There is speculation among the younger members of the family before father Bob lifts the receiver and answers ‘hello’. Before we know the significance of the call which comes at the close, action then proceeds to the front of the stage where the youngest, Rosie, gives the first monologue.

If you were thinking that the play’s title suggested a catalogue of didactic rants according to one or other characters, it wasn’t going to be this one. Rosie is telling us how she went travelling to discover love and life. Thinking she had got a result, we are shocked to hear the outcome of her encounter with Spanish heart-throb Immanuel in Berlin. When the scene cuts to her arrival at the family home to find solace, we are then diverted from the expectation she will receive a sympathetic hearing as her family appear and pepper us with quick-fire banter relating to past behaviours, some fond memories, others more resentful (e.g “I spend good cash on buying you a coffee-machine, Dad, but you never use it!”) that all but side-lines poor Rosie whose tale of loss and romantic disappointment is ignored.

The play explores the tensions created in the family relationships as each of Fran and Bob’s offspring reveal the singular deep and personal crises in their young adult lives. Bob is a prematurely retired car-worker while Fran still works as a hospital nurse, both have always been scrupulous about raising their children well and morally, to be able to leave the nest one day to create careers and family life of their own. The drama lies in how the revelations put a strain on the prospect of a happy dotage for the parents as their children reach adulthood. Such revelations force Fran to admit she has put small portions of her earnings aside in case she felt she had to leave Bob, to his consternation, while Bob has retired to grow his roses but finds it difficult to spent all his hours usefully satisfying as he had hoped.

The set is simple, tables and chairs behind the house-frame viewed from the garden area with a display of Bob’s beloved roses. Much is made of the tree beyond the fourth wall to illustrate character. Against it Fran beats her head out of frustration; Mark climbs it to observe the life around him, detached as he is from any sense of ease with norms of family and society. His brother Ben skits into view and out again to establish himself as a character evading the focus of others as he masquerades behind a facade of being as well-heeled as the privileged crowd he is trying to impress at work. Status and the value of wealth are hereby explored to a satisfying extent. Financial settlement at career end often results in a paltry amount considering the years of service someone like Fran has given.

When Ben confesses to mounting debt due to false accounting practices to fund his lifestyle, one parent is predictably outraged, the other unpredictably pragmatic. Ben’s brother Mark has decided he identifies as a woman and has booked gender-change surgery. Their sister Pip, a successful corporate career woman, is giving up the intimate care of her children in favour of leaving her husband for another man (also married). All these crises of the young adults throw the stability and hopeful expectations of their unprepared conventional parents into disarray.

The outcome is not surprising but still comes as a shock. Rosie’s second monologue is an inspired piece. Bovell writes it as if Rosie is imagining the thoughts in the overburdened mind of her mother as she leaves her hospital shift in the early morning hours for the last time, not for the first time her absorption in the case of a patient she has cared for being pertinent to her fate. The finale concludes with a wonderful silent episode where the children are dressing their father when all had been in nightwear moments earlier. Mark is now Mia and convincingly dressed and styled as such.

If the intensity of family dynamics is appropriately tense, the script is leavened with humour for some relief. The actors were admirably up to the challenges of some long speeches and fast repartee, if in monologue their voices dropped on occasion, making it hard to hear. A satisfying if unsettling drama, “Things I Know To Be True” is well produced in set and action, and recommended viewing if you can get tickets via a48theatrecompany.com

(4 / 5)

A pair of muddy trainers, a tan rucksack and jumper are the only items that sit upon the stage of Theatr Soar. The atmosphere was set by soaring Welsh anthems such as Green Green Grass of Home and Yma O Hyd filling the eaves of the converted chapel.

Liam Holmes as Stephen Jones, enters, in a square of light. His natural cadence and natural ability mean he instantly won over the audience’s hearts. Asking where his rugby boots are to an off stage unknown person, the moments of silence and glances towards this unknown character are poignant and we are immediately aware of something unspoken. The entreaty to ‘talk about it,’ leading to the awkward admittance of this ‘being a bit weird’ sets the scene perfectly for this moving piece about the pain of the Aberfan Disaster for families of the village and that inability to fully express the pain and trauma of that traumatic event.

The simple stage and lighting transports us from house in Aberfan to the waterlogged rugby pitch where Stephen is practising his kicks after his winning penalty against Dowlais in the semi-finals. The stage is used ably, the space filled by Liam and Tanwen Stokes as Angharad. The ‘in the round’ space allows Liam and Tanwen to fully immerse us in the story; Angharad watching from the audience, berating Stephen for being on the pitch rather than at home with dad or entertaining his younger brother, Dafydd. Throughout the play the space is used to great effect, bringing the audience truly into the action.

The sound is also excellent. From the soaring sounds of the crowd as Stephen steps up to take his winning kick, the rumbling of the ‘thunder’ that turns out to be the starting of the waste coal sliding down the mountainside, to the haunting spoken records of Dafydd and the parents of the lost children from the school. In particular, I enjoyed the use of Owen Sheers’ ‘The Green Hollow,’ echoing throughout the space and reminding us of the very human loss of this disaster.

I especially enjoyed the use of Welsh phrases throughout, which were used particularly evocatively during the description of the coal duff slipping down the side of the mountain. Hearing the Welsh then echoed with the English, or vice versa ensured that the script was still accessible to all. I would have liked to hear even more as I thought that this was an excellent device used in an innovative way by the writer.

The pair are ably directed by Michael Neri, clearly they have been told to not be afraid of weighted silences which leave the audience breathlessly waiting for the next line. The humour peppered throughout captures the essence of the valleys village, that easy natured way of speaking to each other which is balanced with what is not said, the glances unseen and words unspoken. With barely any props or set, we are transported between the different scenes of the action; the pitch, the mountain top, the bustling hospital of St Tydfil’s and the dark home of Stephen, Dad and Gramps.

The final scenes perfectly counterbalance the earlier humour and playfulness between Stephen Angharad. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as Liam delivers the final lines to that unknown voice, his dad, as the two desperately struggle to come to terms with what they have lost. The final cry from Stephen of ‘I’m still here Dad!’ as the lights fade brings the story to its heartbreaking conclusion, leading to a well deserved standing ovation.

The piece was particularly poignant in Merthyr Tydfil but the themes of loss, family, friendship and unspoken love will be met with universal acclaim no matter where this is viewed. I highly recommend Mr Jones, but do make sure you take those tissues along with you!

Image Mark Douet

This was an absolute celebration of so many aspects of life that can be easily missed; self-love (in all manners of the word), companionship and reconnection. This one woman show gracefully took us through a myriad of scenes, drawing us into Jane’s life and leaving me on the edge of my seat. Carrying a multitude of character can be very tricky, and indeed could have at times been slightly clearer, but Vivien Parry’s performance was a triumph that garnered a standing ovation at the end.

April Dalton’s set at first looked incredibly simple but tuned out to be perfect- a little dull at first but hiding a lot of light and fun. The carpet was the perfect background for Jane’s transformational experiences and was elevated by Katy Morison’s lighting and Sam Jones’ sound designs, transporting us from Roath Park to London to dancing naked in Caerleon.

Hannah Noone’s direction was understated but allowed Parry’s sensuality to shine and roam around the whole stage space.
To me, the show felt like it would hit every audience member differently. There was a lot I could relate to, but a lot that would hit differently depending on the time of life you saw it.

One of the main messages that I took away from Matt Hartley’s script was that it’s never too late. Never too late to find yourself, have those conversations that are needed or to become a better person. It was a subtle story of redemption for all the characters, and I left wishing every character we met the best as they carry on their life well after we’ve left the auditorium.

Sherman Theatre is known for its young plays and dynamic work, so seeing a story of an older woman was a breath of fresh air, I just hope that younger audiences aren’t put off from attending as they would be missing out. It runs at The Studio until March 23rd with a range of prices for all ages.

Photo credit: Pamela Raith

(4 / 5)

In this brandnew production of Dream from the RSC comes delight, humour and awe. I first got my teeth in the play in college and fell in love with it ever since.

There is real joy here, director Eleanor Rhode has gone all out with massive scope. Lucy Osborne’s design is multi-coloured filling the stage with ladders, giant hanging orbs and soaring platforms. Another huge element to proceedings is John Bulleid as illusion director and designer. The magic on display is nothing sort of astounding, the video work and little lights in the actors palms are also really nice touches. This all works wonders in the space.

The band are another sensation, thanks to the score of Will Gregory brimming with sass, flair and nods to several genres. The cast are huge and marvellous. Much marketing has been done on Mathew Bayton as Bottom, which is valued (can’t get over the appalling sideburns!) but the rest of the cast are also stars and rising talent. Mathew plays the role with his usual wide eyed mirth, a snapping comic timing and an understated insecurity that Bottom calls for. His donkey transformation sees ears which can move of their own accord, one of many funny moments. From Romeo & Julie and Machinal, Rosie Sheehy as Puck was a familar face. She works mightly well in the role, the image of Heath Leger’s Joker, one of several punk trappings. I love her ornamented accent in the role, brimming with grit, bite, resentment and a wistful endurance.

Many cast members stand out and there is much to shout about. The lovers shine Hermia, Demetrius, Lysander and Helena thanks to the efforts of razor sharp quartet: Dawn Sievewright, Nicholas Armfield, Ryan Hutton and Boadicea Ricketts. There absurd little moments are noteworthy, the lovers should be particularly physical and highly caffeinated. Ryan’s leaping, Nicholas’ marital arts postures, Boadicea’s shrieking and Dawn’s rages are left in the brain. The rest of The Mechanicals shine, the indifference of Emily Cundick’s Snout, Snug from Laurie Jamieson as a lovable dimwit. The Pyramus and Thisbe wrap up should be the funniest scene of the play and here it was. Given a loving send up of Giallo horror films, with plenty of deep red blood and cheap, anxious keyboard chords to boot.

Helen Monks is Peter Quince the flustered director for their little play, not really seen enough in the role. As Starveling, Premi Tamang came into her own as Moon in the outlandish Pyramus set, her smug face and flickering torch is one of my favourite moments. Nitesh Soni as Flute is another adorable addition to the actors group, another comedic discovery. We don’t see as such the Forrest Nymphs, though the light and effects did most of the work here, each of the actors voiced the tiny roles with conviction. Barry Gill as Theseus faired well in delivery, though I found he did little with a straight laced Oberon, though this punk attire was a standout. Airline Saba, as both Titania and Hippolyta exuded a fierce persona for each and a sensusal use of mannerism. Neil McCaul seen for a shortlist while at the start and end is Egeus, outraged over the young lovers actions, as the show starts off with a serious tone.

I’ve left little of the story out of this review, it being pretty well known. I would recommend a trip to Stratford for this gem of a show.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream runs till 30 March 2024.

Photo credit: Ellie Kurttz

(4 / 5)

In the centenary year of his birth, I attended Benjamin Britten’s prized creation: the Aldeburgh Festival in Suffolk. Walking to his grave, I spoke in one of my awful poem’s how I “staggered sharply” to pay my respects. His black megalith, is paired with his life partner Peter Pears, singer of renowned who created many of Britten’s tenor roles. Behind them is Imogen Holst.

Daughter to Gustav Holst, renowned for the eternal Planets Suite, Imogen had a gun-ho attitude to her career in music. She kept up morale during WWII, teaching children and amateurs to play instruments and sing. This new play by Mark Ravenhill sees her friendship formulate with Britten, over the terrifying commission of Gloriana, for the Queen’s coronation. With 9 months till the premiere, their relationship is greatly tested through power dynamics, sexual politics, class, position and taste. Though I did not find any great appeal in her compositions, she remains a female composer of note, not just for assisting in an opera and festival planning.

Imo is billed as a musical adviser to the creation of the opera. She dips in and out of the role, notes and advice abound about the score, cast and programming. Ben’s depression, bad arm and composer’s block is what makes the creation so fraught, his cageyness about Imo is another huge barrier about what she is on the project. Ravenhill’s knows his stuff, his work in the operatic form lies in his back catalogue. There is a depth in his characters, who seem to brush aside the total nonsense of the world. It is eloquently written, possibly working better as a one act show around 95 minute mark, like the radio play it is based on.

Director Erica Whyman has created a intimate show in the Swan Theatre. The space may evoke Shakespeare’s Globe, yet the back wall had a feel of Britten’s own Snape Maltings, with beach shingle spread across the floor. The soundscape is of the sea through out, expected due to the setting (Britten’s exposed house gets flooded at Christmas). The score by Conor Mitchell is a dastardly wonder, piano heavy and not heard enough. Connor Fogel playing live offstage was a wonderous addition, adding a live musical elevation to the show. This how ever didn’t stop the actors from both pretend playing the revolving piano on stage, with it spurts of water during the flood scene. Both Conor and Connor have had fun on the music side of things, the references to Britten in the score are there apparently to point out.

As Britten, Samuel Barnett looks the part, the curly, tempered hair, the clothes and glasses. His face does capture something of the composer if only a little. The sensible, then furious mood swings are delivered well. Britten would not have been an all rounded figure to gel with, how easy it was to be excluded at the drop of a hat. There was tenderness too, the love for Imo still there even in roaring insults. Victoria Yeats is chatty, whimsical, yet still grounded as Imogen. She arrives almost like Mary Poppins into the space. Yeats seems to brush off most of the tantrums of her fellow composer, like a mother, sibling and at times a wife. She stands her ground with Barnett in moments of shouty confrontation, all for the good of music making.

The second act sees the most patient driver in existence, as the tense morning before trying out the opera in London is delayed due to Imo’s tardiness. There is much yelling and poison from both, it could have almost turned physical. This is a work of fiction about two recent creative lives, people who knew them both are still around. I wonder just how catty things really got between them…

Though the opera Gloriana itself, does have its fans, it is nowhere Britten’s best. Much is said of a flop at its opening and though it has seen some stagings here and there, there is still life in the show yet. Ben & Imo proves just how intense a process it was to make.

Ben & Imo runs till 6 April 2024