It is a truth universally acknowledged that a theatre has to put bums on seats if it is to survive. What better source of material to use to achieve this goal than a book which has sold more than 20 million copies (Wikipedia) and which has been revived on TV? The only drawback is that Pride and Prejudice is a novel not a play. Adapting it means a six-hour reading experience has to be pruned back to provide two hours traffic on the stage. The difficulties have been confronted by an interesting (and presumably economic) collaboration between five regional theatres: Mold’s Theatr Clwyd, the Bolton Octagon, Keswick’s Theatre By The Lake, and the Stephen Joseph and Hull Truck Theatres. Their production has attracted good reviews and on a Wednesday press night at Theatr Clwyd the house was more than three quarters full and the best seats looked to be sold.

The audience enjoyed the show. They applauded loudly when Elizabeth Bennet kissed Darcy (did that happen in the book?) and they cheered when the couple were sprayed with water so that Darcy’s shirt could be dampened in reference to a scene in the TV series (not, I think, in the book). A number stood to applaud at the end, as if we were still in the party conference season.

I think the audience and the critics were right to applaud. The show is very funny. The cast, with their spot on timing and faultless attention to detail, perform like a dance band, making the absolute most of the material they have been given. They fill the stage even when only two characters are present, and they easily suggest both the crowded rooms at a ball and the palatial grounds of Darcy’s estate. There is a lot of physical theatre with Ben Fensome’s inspired interpretation of Mr Collins and Joanna Holden’s manic clowning as Mrs Bennet. Set against these two are secure performances from James Sheldon as Darcy – his feet remain stolidly rooted to the stage throughout the excitement – and Eve Pereira’s Mary, a study in straight-face absurdity. We also get a riff on Lady Bracknell in Jessica Ellis’ Lady Catherine de Bourgh (she avoids mentioning the handbag). Other members of the cast, like Rosa Hesmondhalgh as Elizabeth and Dyfrig Morris as Mr Bennet (and one suspects also as the permanently veiled Anne de Bourgh) hold everything together confidently. They maintain the realism of the story. Background music is provided on the harpsichord by Mary, and by other period instrument versions of ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?’ and ‘You’re So Vain’.

Nobody put a foot wrong. The only (small) detail that didn’t work dramatically was doubling Eve Pereira up as Mr Bingley, presumably to save employing another actor (one of the Bennet daughters was also cut). But, given that Bingley has the least interesting role in the production, the gender switch didn’t matter much.

Nonetheless, despite what the show achieved, it was entertainment rather than art. Quality, ingenious entertainment, requiring a high level of professionalism- it can’t have been easy for writer Kate Hamil to fashion a fast-moving play from a slow-burning novel and director Lotte Wakeham deserves her plaudits for getting the most out of her actors – but this show is fundamentally tongue-in-cheek. It stops short of sending the novel up but it misrepresents it. It draws on Oscar Wilde and Alan Aykbourne and it comes across as more Gilbert and Sullivan than Mozart. Brecht it is not. The humour in it is good-natured and well-meant but the laughter it generates is in the service of what is apparently not a serious story. This because the real facts which Jane Austen was so careful to include, have had to be skipped over. (Those reviewers who claim the show is faithful to the original should go back and reread it.)

Pride and Prejudice is a fairy story. Austen’s artistry consisted of connecting a popular genre to a contemporary reality so both our intelligence and our feelings can be engaged. Economics and the laws of inheritance feature in her novel as they represent the restrictions the Bennet sisters have to break free from – in a world where women had virtually no role to play in society if they didn’t become wives and mothers. The Bennet family lives comfortably, with servants and a carriage, on Mr Bennet’s unearned income (equivalent to £170,000 a year today) but Mrs Bennet is not mad to be obsessed about what will happen to her five daughters if and when her husband dies. Those of the girls who remain unmarried will become homeless and be reduced to the level of the labouring class. Their abilities on the harpsichord and their knowledge of foreign languages won’t help them. They are effectively good for nothing.

Austen’s sharp detailing picks out for us the misery faced by Elizabeth’s friend Charlotte Lucas, who is too insecure to resist Mr Collins’ blandishments and who faces a life with an egotistic eccentric dependent in turn on the whimsical patronage of an almighty snob. She also gives us Lydia Bennet’s elopement with Lieutenant Wickham. Lydia is only fifteen. The age of consent in 1800 was twelve but even two hundred years ago a relationship between a man and a young teenager would have raised eyebrows – as we see from Darcy’s treatment of Wickham. Wickham has already tried it on with his sister.

Any mention of paedophilia or any close consideration of economics or of a legal system preventing women from inheriting property, would unbalance a light-hearted piece of entertainment, so the production skirts these issues. It understates, for example, the social disaster the Bennet family face when Bingley appears to have jilted Jane and Lydia’s elopement has disgraced them.

But you can’t have everything. Like Mary Bennet, ‘I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.’ Until someone manages to turn work by Sally Rooney or Annie Ernaux into relevant modern comedy, we can go along with productions like that offered by this regional collaboration. Escapism is sometimes OK, and it puts bums on seats.

(4 / 5)

Prior to attending Middle Ground Theatre Company’s The Signalman at Theatr Clwyd I picked up a copy of Classic Ghost Stories at my local library and, by complete coincidence, the first offering was The Signalman by Charles Dickens. I decided to resist temptation and attend the production with no expectations (better than great expectations, pardon the pun!) I did, however, skim through and wrack my brains as to how this production was going to take place over 1 hour and 40 minutes, the story taking up a mere 16 pages of this collection.

What better time of year to witness this piece than during the lead up to Halloween- the atmosphere set immediately upon entering the auditorium; dark curtain down and eerie piano music playing. As the curtain rises, the music’s volume increases and we are greeted with a lowly, dark piece of railway line through a tunnel (via use of effective projections) and a signal box shaded in smog, kitted out with everything we might find in a signal box in 1880- bells, levers, flags, a couple of chairs, book shelves, a kettle. The set is static throughout with the addition of several impressive light and sound effects to portray night and day, trains rumbling by, night owls hooting, the wind howling through the trees. It’s all very Victorian, very Dickens!

Dickens always had an interest in the concept of ghosts (made no clearer than in one of his most well-known and loved works, A Christmas Carol, published many years before The Signalman). However, Dickens was also a passenger in the Staplehurst train crash of 1865 which, although he survived, left him with significant psychiatric injury. Perhaps then, this eerie tale, was his way of attempting to banish his own demons and examine the suffering caused by this tragic event. In using the railway as his setting, Dickens provides a backdrop which we can all relate to- although, individuals being able to cross the railway line with only a ‘mind the line’ warning beforehand is a somewhat insane concept in the modern age!

In brief, our signalman, brilliantly portrayed by Chris Walker, is experiencing ‘hauntings’ which he cannot explain and has come to tell of these happenings to a holidaymaker out walking in the area. The holidaymaker is somewhat of an ambiguous character. Is he really an innocent gentleman on holiday? Is he a journalist? An inspector? John Burton plays this character with great energy and authority, and we are left wondering what his purpose is here. It seems his friendliness causes the signalman to relax and talk freely about the ghostly visions- from visiting apparitions, books falling from shelves of their own accord, doors opening without a breeze, voices calling out. As an audience, we are also privy to these occurrences, leaving us feeling uneasy throughout- do we believe what we are seeing? Why are these unearthly incidents happening? Perhaps we now feel as our signalman feels.

Without giving too much of the story away, it appears that the signalman is experiencing fears of an impending disaster on this part of isolated line- not helped by the recollection of past events. The question is, is what happens next down to fate or is it down to these peculiar premonitions?

This is a magnificent re-telling of a lesser-known Dickens fable which builds a fantastically formidable atmosphere throughout, by way of character, set, costume, lighting, sound, and special effects. Having since read the original, it is clear there have been a few embellishments but, overall, the production stays true to the text and is a great, atmospheric period piece, perfect for a dark, winter’s evening.

The Signalman continues its UK Tour on November 4th at the Darlington Hippodrome and continues into 2026, finishing at the Wolverhampton Grand Theatre on March 28th. Head to the website for more information:

The Signalman | Middle Ground Theatre Company Ltd

Photo Credit- Millie Pinkstone

Upon first discovering the concept of The Weir, I was intrigued- a naturalistic play about ghost stories seems almost like juxtaposition. It wasn’t until the curtain came up and the play silently began that I truly understood- and for the next hour and forty five minutes, I was captivated.

Before the actors had even uttered a line, the hyperrealistic set caught my eye. Every detail was intentional and beautifully crafted, from the doorway to the pictures on the wall. Every part served a purpose, and added to the solemn atmosphere of the play. The wooden hues, accompanied by the everyday clothing of the characters, further immersed the audience.

Whilst the cast was small, their stage presence could’ve enthralled an audience ten times bigger. Each character wove their personalities into their stories in a different way- from Valerie’s (Kate Phillips) tear-jerking tale about her daughter to the strangely comedic element of Jim’s (Seán McGinley) delivery, it was impossible to be bored at any point.

Brendan Gleeson’s portrayal of Jack was highly anticipated by many- and his performance left little to be desired. The second he stepped on stage, the audience waited with bated breath to see his interpretation of the character. Not many actors could handle the dichotomy of Jack’s darkly funny lines and his profound stories of loss and loneliness, but Gleeson did so expertly.

It isn’t often that a play (or any piece of media) can accurately embody real life- often, something unrealistic interrupts the narrative and the audience can no longer relate to the piece and its characters like they used to. However, the casual dialogue of The Weir resonated with those watching and brought us closer to the action, making us feel as if we were sitting in the pub with the characters without disturbing the serious subject matter.

Photo Credit- Rich Gilligan

Usually, I prefer more plot-based than character-based media, but this play is the exception. I felt that I could connect with everyone onstage- I felt pity for some, laughed with others, and understood the characters’ conflicts as if they were my own. As the storyline mainly revolves around the individual characters and their experiences, one could focus on each person’s story without being distracted by what-ifs and side-plots.

All in all, the performance delivered quality in every area, and left audience members thinking about the characters and their lives for the rest of the night.

Lessons On Revolution is an immersive documentary theatre. This production reviews numerous global pre-historic events which imposes unrest from political & social injustices, conformity, despair and racial suffering, causing uproar from activists and conscious citizens who refused to accept & integrate at the expense of material comfort for disguised agendas serving the elites greed & mass corruption.

Lessons On Revolution journeys us through 1968, London School of Economics. Where members of the LSE Liberated Zone combine to disconnect from worldwide aparthied inequalities to voice their thoughts. Changing the status quo for radical change despite the powers that be having their resistance, whilst those proceeded doing their due diligence for humanity worldwide.

Writers & performers; as well as flatmates Samuel Rees & Gabriele Uboldi, during 2024, in their Camden flat embark on a discovery of archives from 1968, the student movement that led to the life changing events that made history. Where despite gentrification affecting the cost of living, both guys enter the past in pursuit of finding hope, retelling a story of truth; exploring themes of suicide, racism, and homophobia; restructuring how theatre could reshape reality.

Both men deeply discuss the past, present and future of activism. Especially as the human race at this moment in time have become despondent & dispirited at the breaking point of fleeting fear, worry and energetic awareness in the midsts of capitalism, and the abyss of the unknown within a potential revolutionary future.