Photo Credits Kirsten McTernan

Despite being bombarded by borderline torrential rain and aggressive gusts of wind, The Other Room’s production of “An Orange In The Subway” certainly wasn’t dampened by the bad weather. With an outstanding leading performance from Mica Williams, the play raised important questions about homelessness and whether or not there truly is some other-wordly being watching out for us. 

The play follows Cassie (Williams), a homeless young woman who is convinced she has a guardian angel- she keeps being left oranges in the subway. Accompanied by the incredibly talented Osian Lloyd and François Pandolfo, who had mastered multirole, the trio didn’t let the weather or the subject matter stop them from delivering a moving interpretation of the play and its characters. Williams’ talent for handling dark, gritty emotions really shined in this role- at some points you could forget that she wasn’t really Cassie and that her sharp defensiveness was merely acting. During her reunion with one of Lloyd’s characters, known only as The Banker, you could feel the desperation in her voice as she asked him all of the questions she was dying to know the answers to. With both the start and end of the performance featuring Cassie and The Banker, the small detail illustrated the never-ending cycle that is life on the streets. Additionally, Lloyd and Pandolfo’s distinction between their multitude of characters was commendable, with a particular highlight being Pandolfo’s portrayal of the all-too-realistic drunk girl. 

One of the most interesting characteristics of this production was the outdoor setting- Mackenzie Park’s trees arching overhead provided a serene, secluded backdrop for the play. Upon entry, we were given the option between sitting on tarp or cardboard- no matter what option you chose, you were only ever about two meters away from the actors and the show, which heightened the authenticity and conveyed the messages of the performance. As we were all on the same level as the stage, it was easy to immerse yourself in the show, with the actors even coming into the audience and breaking the fourth wall at some points.  

If anything, the dismal weather conditions added to the drama of the performance. The inner English student in me wanted to point out the pathetic fallacy in the climate- during the most intense moments, the rain seemed to get heavier, the temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees, and the wind pelted my umbrella (which I was very grateful for). The lighting choices- made by lighting designer Katy Morison- further set the scene, with warm oranges flooding the performance space from below, and light blues occasionally tinting the scene.  

Even though I ended up getting absolutely drenched, I left Cardiff that night with a million thoughts swirling around my head regarding the performance- all positive. It certainly wasn’t an experience I’m going to forget any time soon.

Photo Credit Kirsten McTernan

It is not often that a play invites you into the performance space itself, but An Orange in the Subway achieves exactly that. The production was staged in Cardiff at Mackenzie Park, where the wooded area was transformed into the stage. This performance unfolded on the same level as the audience, placing us directly alongside the characters and blurring the line between stage and reality. Additionally, the performance was both intimate and atmospheric, making us witnesses to Cassie’s story.

At the heart of the storyline is Cassie, portrayed with depth and spirit by Mica Williams. Cassie is a woman navigating through the harsh struggles of homelessness, caught between survival on the streets and wrestling with questions of spirituality and her guardian angel. Mica Williams brings out Cassie’s sharp-edged defensiveness to protect herself and her raw vulnerability grappling with fear, guilt, and the feeling of being forgotten, making the duality of her performance absorbing.

The production also made wonderful use of multi-rolling, with actors transforming fluidly into different characters, each new encounter standing for a reflection of society, some people judgmental, others kind, and all of them shaping Cassie’s understanding of how people view her place in society. The characters who passed through her life clarified the reality that homelessness is an embedded part of everyday life and that her struggle was a product of the same community that surrounded her. By the end of the performance, her reconciliation with her friend, The Banker, felt deeply earned, a moment of peace that closed the story of her journey.

What uplifted the performance further was its design; the use of the props in so many creative ways allowed the wooded space itself to become part of the storytelling. This included the lighting choices, created by Lighting Designer – Katy Morison, which used oranges and cool blues to shape the atmosphere; the gentle music, by Composer – Tic Ashfield, played a vital role in welcoming us into the space; and the sound effects, which deepened scenes, created atmosphere, and grounded the audience into a believable world.

At its core, An Orange in the Subway is about how people grasp onto signs of hope, even in the darkest circumstances, and trust that something spiritual might take place to carry them through those moments of misfortune and hardship. This matter was embedded through Cassie’s journey, from her desperate search to find her guardian angel, to her concluding moments of reconciliation and peace. This performance shines a light on the overlooked struggles of homelessness while highlighting resilience, forgiveness, and the human connections that carry humanity through life. Owen Thomas’s writing, the production team’s vision, Mica Williams, Osain Lloyd, and François Pandolfo created an experience that I believe was thought-provoking, moving, and one that I can proudly say that lingers after the final moment.

You can find out more about the production and book tickets here

All Photo Credits Kirsten McTernan

A cold and windy night was the perfect setting for The Other Room’s newest co-production ‘An Orange in the Subway’. Performed outside in Mackenzie Park, in collaboration with The Wallich. The show really brought in all the senses as the audience sat on the ground, watching the actors as they deftly performed Owen Thomas’ story.

The performances were incredibly impressive. Mica Williams’ Cassie was our focus and hardly had a moment to breath in a very intense hour of performance. The desperation, confusion and loneliness of the character shone, and Williams’ physicality added to the creation of the world we joined. François Pandolfo’s multi-rolling, added layers to the story and the different characters he can create are always impressive. Ranging from the recognisable to the absurd, we glimpsed the breadth of those that form Cassie’s world of Cardiff- a particular highlight was the very drunk girl we could all recognise. Osian Lloyd’s performance was a stand out for me, I was so impressed with the nuance and differences between the characters portrayed. The Bankers’ opening lines immediately drew us in and the shifting between worlds and characters throughout kept you engaged and part of it.

This was hugely helped by the setting, and kudos needs to go to Katy Morison’s lighting and Tic Ashfields sound. Both made you aware what you were seeing was a performance, but heightened the action and created the world of angels as well as embracing the natural world and darker nights we are heading into.

Whilst there were so many positives, the show has made me question my expectations around art for arts sakes and the responsibilities of showing a topic such as homelessness. If the show wasn’t in collaboration with The Wallich, I would be tempted to find some of the characters as closer to stereotypes rather than full humanity. Owen Thomas’ verse was hard to immediately grasp, moving us from feeling the show was made from a point of truth.

The strongest moment of the play I felt was Cassie sharing with the statue of Nye Bev that she’d tried the support out there, but all the rules and curfews were too much. This was a great insight into the complex struggles that exist between the help that is out there and the people most in need, as well as the power of autonomy. I expected to see more about what help does exist and the next steps for the characters, but then that might have felt kitsch and shoved in, when for so many people there might not be a happy ending.

Leaving, I struggled to decide what the outcome of the piece was. Now, not all theatre needs a call to action or an objective I know, but especially when it was so based in rough sleeping not just in subject but in setting, I was expecting to leave and feel something. Some sort of next step or understanding of the struggles people face and an idea of what may help.

“Not just a deeply moving play, but a rare, connected experience of homelessness between the audience and the actors onstage.“

It started with my forgotten umbrella and ended with one of the most authentic and unique theatre experiences.
Following the story of Cassie, a homeless girl lost and ruined, our emotions become escalated from watching this live performance of ‘An Orange in the Subway’ as we experience sitting on the ground on tarps and rain falling down for the ultimate homeless experience, immersing us with the incredible actors and witnessing their same struggles with them.

Owen Thomas’ writing will leave you wondering and in a rapt effect about how other people in this world are living, clinging to any hope and enthusiasm in what feels a dead-end life. The play will have you laughing the one second, and teary-eyed the other as we witness the harsh reality of being homeless.

Isolated and fearful, the main character of Cassie, played captivatingly by Mica Williams, is determined there is more to her life, someone or something out there looking out for her. And as we embark on her story, the incredible multi-rolling of both actors: François Pandolfo and Osian Lloyd, who has actual experience of being homeless, will expose the nerve wracking and heart-breaking encounters homeless people deal with every day.

In partnership with a Welsh homelessness charity The Wallich, Dan Jones’ perfect directing and the passionate acting brought to life the play and is giving homeless people the voice that is always subtly ignored when they plead on the side of the street.

You can find out more about the production here

The noisy member for Ebbw Vale. The stuttering orator. The father of the National Health Service. Growing up as a Valleys girl I was always told that the NHS was created by a Welshman;, but I never truly knew the full story behind the man, Nye Bevan, whose vision for a better, fairer world, was the driving force behind creating the National Health Service. I first encountered Nye at the Wales Millennium Centre in its previous run in 2024. It’s safe to say that my visit to the revival version in 2025 still left me reeling with emotions; high with laughter one moment, face wet with tears the next.

In a time where the NHS is under much scrutiny; undervalued, understaffed, underfunded, Nye takes us back to its infancy, with the opening pages revealing Aneurin Bevan recovering from an operation in one of the very hospitals he built. The staging here is a thing of beauty, the set and ensemble create a budding National Health Service, the hustle and bustle of the ward’s essence captured perfectly. From there we enter Nye Bevan’s dream and his journey from a Miner’s son in Ebbw Vale, through school, endless tribunals and countless committees, to the Houses of Parliament and eventually to his role of Minister for Health (…and Housing) and his ‘vision’ come to life in the creation of the National Health Service.

Nye is, to my mind, a masterclass in writing. The scene in Tredegar Library is a particular favourite of mine, delivered with a deftness of touch but an undeniable Welsh Valleys flavour. Another is the ‘seam’ with Nye’s father, David; a poetic explanation of what it truly meant to be a ‘learned miner’ with the ‘one true blow’ counterbalanced perfectly with the undeniable voice of the Valleys Welshman. The writing throughout truly captures the lives, the spirits, the souls of the people of the coalmining town that Nye Bevan called home and the wider political world he came to inhabit. Tim Price’s pen brings the Valleys to life before my eyes and it is a Valleys that is achingly familiar to me.

The set is striking and with a swipe of a hospital curtain we are transported throughout the world of Nye. Vicki Mortimer’s striking set with its various levels of green ward curtains move us effortlessly throughout the tableaus, and when they are fully removed, the stage is all the starker and bleaker for it. The emptiness of the stage with the single hospital bed at the end of Act One is stunning in its emptiness and simplicity, and shows the audience, with brutal honesty, that the end of a life is just a son holding his father in his arms and telling him not to fight anymore. The projection design by Jon Driscoll is one of my favourite parts of the production, in particular the scene where Nye first takes up the mantle of Minster for Health and crowds of people in need start walking towards him in desperation. It’s so simple but the execution is flawless. Lighting, sound and music are also excellent, designed by Paule Constable, Donato Wharton and Will Stuart respectively.

Director Rufus Norris is joined by the Revival’s Co-Director Francesca Goodridge, alongside Co-Choreographers, Steven Hoggett and Jess Williams. The way the cast and ensemble move and flow in this production is beautiful; humorous and heartbreaking. The flow and creation of tableaus in Nye, quite frankly, takes my breath away and is an absolute testament to the direction and choreography of the piece.

The cast of Nye is, without exception, phenomenal. There are very few changes from the production in 2024, and you can feel the trust and security that the actors feel in one another. The physicality as they swap and change from various ages in some cases, and roles in others, occurs without fault and without ever jarring the audience’s imagination, morphing from nurse to sister, doctors to politicians (and back again). I would be remiss, of course, not to mention, Michael Sheen in the titular role. He truly embodies Aneurin Bevan; never shying away from his flaws and human condition, with a healthy tot of charm thrown in. The physical wrench of his stutter is painful to watch, juxtaposed with his burgeoning confidence as he first meets Jennie Lee (played with great poise by Sharon Small). I never thought I would get to see Michael Sheen musical performance, full of vigour and swagger; and only a heartbreaking few moments later we see him clutching his dying father in his arms, in a moment which left the audience reeling. What a huge weight to fall on an actor’s shoulders to portray, not only a real person, but one so universally revered and admired, even idolised in his hometown. The respect, poise and gravitas that Michael Sheen brings to this role is nothing short of breathtaking.

Nye truly is a love letter to the National Health Service, in a time where it needs OUR care and attention after years of giving so much of that to us. The play is not so much a ‘call to arms’ as a reminder of all it took to get Nye’s vision to be realised and of the utter travesty it would be to lose that now. But Nye is more than a story of the realisation of the health service; it’s the journey of a man, his life, his triumphs, his flaws, and the people who touched his life along the way. Nye is an absolute triumph and a testament to every single person who has brought Aneurin Bevan back to our minds and our hearts.

(4 / 5)

The Last Laugh is much more than exceptionally talented performers doing impressions of three comedy greats of the past. The portrayals here are incredibly touching and eerily true to life in the tiniest expressions and mannerisms. Penned by Paul Hendy, this is a production that reaches beyond the public personas of these three giants of British comedy to reveal the personalities, the insecurities and the battles of the men beneath. It’s definitely a rib tickler of a production but it’s much more than that, with moments of poignancy and a final tableau that breaks the audience’s collective hearts.

From the moment Damian Williams appears on stage in vest, pants, duck feet and, of course, Cooper’s infamous fez, we are drawn to this infectious, honest, compelling performance. The voice, mannerisms, the easy way with the audience are all spot on; the ‘just like that,’ the laugh, the endless abuse of Bob Monkhouse, is all eerily accurate of the late comedian. His quieter moments counterbalance this perfectly, his blank stares into the mirror, the glance out to the audience as he picks up his props, alone. The final, heartbreaking scenes are delivered with absolute poise and the silence from the audience, where there once was laughter, is palpable.

Simon Cartwright’s portrayal of Bob Monkhouse truly captures the essence of the famous comedian and presenter whom many of us will remember from shows like Opportunity Knocks or Family Fortunes. The voice is spot on; it sounds like Bob is really on stage, once again the mannerisms and stage presence of this comedy great is exceptionally accurate. I was really struck with Simon’s way of dealing with Bob’s difficulties; a comedy partner who committed suicide, a disabled child, a difficult marriage. Although his character is quieter and more reserved than his co-stars he still stands shoulder to shoulder with them, which is impressive.

From the moment Bob Golding enters as Eric Morecambe, it’s as if the late comedian has bounded back to life on the Millennium Centre stage; Bob bounces across the stage with all the exuberance that Eric was so famous for. As with the other performers, it’s eerie. The voice, the mannerisms, the way of simply ‘being’ with the other comedians speaks of years of admiration of Eric and honing his craft to create him on stage. Sheer joy is counterbalanced perfectly with his quieter discussions about Ernie being like his ‘comedy brother’ and the family he never sees to pursue his comedy dreams in his duo.

So yes, this is a ‘laugh a minute’ as other critics have said, but what truly gives it its staying power is ultimately the portrayal of the human beings behind these facades. It was interesting to hear that the play had gone to New York and, although the theatre goers there didn’t really know the comedians being portrayed, it was the familiar ‘lived in’ experience of simply being human that still made the production resonate with the stateside attendees.

If you love any, or all three of these personalities then this is a must-see. But even if you don’t know their catalogue of work, it’s still an important piece of theatre to attend. It’s a masterclass in storytelling; the last twist of the story, the final flash of the mirror lights and the final call to stage are devastating and brings a tear to the eye where there were, only moments before, a ‘last laugh.’