Quick Q&A: Fit for Work

Where and when: Chapel Playhouse, 24th-25th August, 8pm

What it’s all about… Fit for Work follows Terry, an ex-plasterer who suffers from physical and mental health conditions, as he applies for the benefit Employment and Support Allowance. Terry meets Mrs Smith, a Healthcare Professional who is determined to make sure that only the most deserving claimants get awarded ESA. Is Terry fit for work?

Show image credit: Wellcome Collection

You’ll like it if… you like Ken Loach’s award-winning film I, Daniel Blake.

You should see it because… Fit for Work made a West End debut at the Tristan Bates Theatre in March, then had a sold-out performance at the Assembly Rooms Theatre’s ‘Spare Room’ Festival in Durham in June.

Peter Lathan of British Theatre Guide gave Fit for Work an extremely positive review, calling it “a very political play” which makes the audience “feel as if real life is unfolding before our eyes”.

Where to follow:
Twitter: @louise__powell

Book here: www.chapelplayhouse.co.uk/whats-on.html#event=31195005

Got a show opening soon? Visit Promote your show and tell us more!

Review: Before I Am Lost at Etcetera Theatre

If you look up Hilda Doolittle on Wikipedia, in the very first sentence you’ll learn that she was “associated with the early 20th century avant-garde Imagist group of poets, including Ezra Pound and Richard Aldington”. But Doolittle – or H.D. – was a poet and novelist in her own right, so why is it that most of us know her now more by the men she was linked to than by her own name, story or work?

Photo credit: Brendan Walker

This is a wrong that Beatrice Vincent sets out to correct in her new monologue, Before I Am Lost. The play introduces us to Hilda at her most vulnerable, trapped in both literal and metaphorical confinement as she prepares for the imminent birth of her daughter. Frightened and alone, but also angry and defiant, and with nothing else to occupy her, she opens up to her unborn child about their current circumstances and how they got here: her past and present relationships with both men and women, the devastating impact of World War I on what had until then been a loving marriage, and the subsequent affair that led to her pregnancy and abandonment. Slowly a picture emerges, of a passionate, intelligent woman at a pivotal moment – the moment she realises not just to what extent her life so far has been designed and directed by men, but also that it doesn’t necessarily have to continue that way, either for her or her daughter.

Beatrice Vincent gives a beautiful performance, walking a tightrope of emotion with captivating precision throughout the hour-long play. One moment she’s playful, the next bitterly sarcastic; she claims not to want her child and yet addresses her bump with obvious affection; after one furious outburst as she recalls her husband’s affair, she regains her composure with an apologetic, “Sorry, that was embarrassing”. The result is a portrayal that feels very authentic – despite her obvious respect for Doolittle as both a woman and a poet, Vincent avoids the temptation to paint her as wholly admirable, and in doing so makes her much more sympathetic and relatable than any gushing tribute could have done.

Directed by Ross McGregor, the production captures the intimacy of the scene between mother and unborn child, bringing in secondary characters only as voiceovers and thus ensuring that closeness is never interrupted. Just as Doolittle appears so often as little more than a footnote in the stories of others, here the tables are turned to show us these well-known literary figures through her eyes, and it’s a view that’s affectionate but not always flattering. Meanwhile her own writing career is generally more alluded to than openly discussed, through the script’s poetic use of language and literary quotes (of which I’m sure there are many more than I managed to pick up in a single sitting) and references to the classical heroines who featured so prominently in her writing.

Photo credit: Brendan Walker

You won’t learn everything about Hilda Doolittle’s life from watching Before I Am Lost – we don’t even find out if her fearful prediction that she’ll die in childbirth is accurate. But the play is an excellent first step towards (re)introducing the world to a writer and a woman who deserves to be known as more than a lover, or wife, or friend, of That Famous Man. Hilda Doolittle had her own story to tell, and if this brief snapshot is anything to go by, it’s one that’s well worth hearing.

Before I Am Lost is at Etcetera Theatre until 20th August.

Review: Hot Mess at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre

What is love? This age-old question has been asked by everyone from Shakespeare to Haddaway, and in Hot Mess, Ella Hickson adds her voice to the debate. To each of her characters, love means something different: for Twitch (Katrina Allen), it means becoming indelible, leaving a mark on the other person to ensure she can never be forgotten. To her twin brother Polo (Timothy Renouf), it’s a concept so alien he can’t even say the word. For their friend Jacks (Natalia Titcomb), it’s a brief moment of physical connection – the briefer the better. And for American tourist Billy (Gareth Balai), it may prove to be a lot more than he bargained for…

Like an old married couple who’ve told their “how we met” story so many times it’s become a choreographed performance, Twitch and Polo open proceedings by explaining how they came into the world: Polo first – clean, quiet and pale – followed by Twitch – messy and loud, her appearance a surprise that nobody counted on. Then it gets a little weird, as we learn they had only one heart between them, which was bestowed on Twitch. As a result, she loves often and devotedly, while Polo (so named because he has a hole where his heart should be) can’t bring himself to feel anything for anyone.

The events of the story take place over one night, as the twins celebrate their 25th birthday on a raucous night out, and simultaneous encounters allow a direct, poetic exploration of the two girls’ contrasting attitudes to sex. At the same time, Polo outlines his sister’s unfortunate history with boys, who have a habit of meeting nasty accidents when they don’t reciprocate her feelings. Her brother shares this information casually, almost with amusement (much as he talks about almost everything else) – yet his concern when Twitch falls hard and fast for Billy seems genuine, if only because he knows long before the rest of us what the end result might be.

Originally staged in a nightclub, the play moves to a more traditional setting under the direction of Vernal Theatre’s Julian Bruton and Kieran Rogers. The cast – much like the play – is one of two halves, though all four are equally impressive. As Polo and Jacks, Timothy Renouf and Natalia Titcomb are loud, brash and very funny; above all they want to be seen and admired, and will do literally anything to achieve that attention. In contrast, Katrina Allen and Gareth Balai (who plays all Twitch’s unfortunate former boyfriends as well as Billy) are sweetly likeable, each with their own kind of innocence about what lies ahead. Ultimately, you get the feeling Polo isn’t the only one lacking something fundamental – but he might just be the only one who’s aware of what’s missing.

Like the twins’ birthday celebration, Hot Mess is something of an emotional rollercoaster, and concludes with a striking final image that’s not easy to shake off. The play asks some deep questions, and certainly doesn’t offer much in the way of answers – but getting to the bottom of it all is an enjoyable challenge.


Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: Sophie at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre

Written and performed by Julia Pagett, Sophie is a story about mental illness and its lasting and wide-reaching impact. At just 20 minutes, the play’s over almost before we know it, but nonetheless provides plenty of food for thought.

Though Sophie is the central character, it’s not she who tells her story; that duty falls to her twin sister, who we first encounter looking through old photos and smiling fondly, while a stereo at her feet plays Puff the Magic Dragon all the way to its sad final verse. Although she’s surrounded by these memories (the set also contains an old bike, which later prompts her to reminisce about the one time she saw her sister truly happy), when she speaks, she reveals a far more complex cocktail of feelings towards Sophie: love, anger, grief, remorse and confusion all make an appearance in this short, heartfelt monologue.

Though it’s never specifically named, the implication is that Sophie was suffering from an eating disorder, and the play focuses predominantly on the ideas of perception and reality: how we see ourselves compared to how others view us. We’re told more than once that Sophie was beautiful, and it’s her failure to see this, more than anything, that her sister can’t understand.

The fact that Sophie’s a twin helps to explore this theme of distorted perceptions in more depth. We hear so much about their mysterious, unbreakable bond that it’s easy to think of twins as two halves of one whole, mirror images of each other – emotionally, even if not physically. The fact that despite this, Sophie still fails to see her true self reflected back at her reveals the undiscriminating power of mental illness, and heightens the tragedy of one twin being left behind.

Under the direction of Keir Mills, there’s a confrontational, defiant tone to Julia Pagett’s delivery that suggests Sophie’s sister knows what she’s saying will be considered shocking and controversial, as she admits to believing her twin was being ungrateful, and to refusing to admit Sophie had a problem or to help even when she begged her to. Even now, as she struggles with her feelings of guilt and grief, that powerful rage still simmers beneath the surface, ready to explode. As distressing as this is to see, it’s a brave, sincere and very moving approach to talking about mental illness that forces us to consider how damaging it can also be for those not directly affected.

I wish the play had been longer – largely because it clearly had a huge amount to say, and felt like it was only just getting going when it ended. It would be great to see Sophie developed into a longer piece that builds on this strong foundation and really digs into the important issues raised.


Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Interview: Rachel Lee and Laura Taylor, Job’s A Good’Un

Job’s A Good’Un is a semi-autobiographical one-woman sketch comedy written and performed by Laura Taylor. Laura’s had 11 jobs in 10 years, from collecting glasses in a gangster-run bar in the Midlands to arranging flower baskets for Eva Longoria. Physical, narrative and highly relatable, the show includes all the ridiculous situations, eccentric characters and endless hours Laura’s spent in the workplace over the years.

“When I was bored in my jobs or was in a ridiculous situation, I thought it might be funny to put on stage,” she explains. “You meet so many characters in day to day life, and there’s something theatrical about that.”

Director Rachel Lee adds, “And as an extension of that, we think everyone’s been in a position where they hate their jobs or feel frustrated at certain workplace situations, whether laughable or just pure despair. We wanted to bring the ridiculous, emotional quality of that on stage.”


Since most of us will have had at least one or two rubbish jobs in our time, Rachel and Laura are hoping the show will be easy to relate to: “We’ve been discussing in our rehearsals how to make the connection with the audience and get them interested even though the storyline is very much autobiographical,” says Rachel. “I think people should come see it because it’s funny and it’s relatable. It’s a personal story, yes, but it is full of emotional moments that will make us go, ‘Oh yeah, I’ve been there!’ 

“I was reading a book and the author was talking about When Harry Met Sally – which is very different, obviously – and she describes that the film ‘has the precision of a personal story, but is actually interested in drawing out universal truths’. That’s exactly what we’re doing.”

They’re also, obviously, hoping it will make us laugh: “A good comedy begins with a story that is engaging that people can relate to or are interested in,” says Laura. “The way that story is delivered is the secret to a good comedy.”

Rachel adds, “As a director’s point of view, I think the secret is to be aware of the elements that are funny, but also not milk them too deliberately.”

The show features in the final week of the month-long Camden Fringe, whose programme has included over 200 shows across 20 venues. “I think Camden Fringe gives shows such a great placing no matter big or small, and we’re very excited to contribute our story to everything that’s out there and feel part of something that’s bigger,” says Rachel.

Together, Rachel and Laura make up Smol & Ginger (so named because one of them’s small and the other’s ginger). “We were on the same Drama course at Goldsmiths and graduated a year ago,” explains Rachel. “We’re both really interested in telling stories, no matter the really personal ones, untold ones, weird ones that no one really thinks about.”

Finally, what would be their number one tip for anyone stuck in a job they hate? “Don’t let jobs define who you are,” advises Laura. “The people and situations that you find unbearable at the moment, let them drive you forward. Anything bad that happens at work remind yourself that you aren’t saving lives – unless you’re a doctor…”

Job’s a Good’Un is at Camden People’s Theatre on 25th and 26th August.