Review: Waiting For The Ship To Sail at Chickenshed (online)

When London’s theatres were forced to close last month, one of the many shows to be cut short was Chickenshed’s spring production, which was forced to end its run the day after press night. This was a disappointment not only for those of us hoping to see the show during its two-and-a-half week run, but also for the cast of 200 young people who had been working hard on the latest in a series of topical performances from the North London theatre company.

Photo credit: Chickenshed

It was welcome news, then, that the show would be released to view online, and in some ways even quite fitting for a theatre company whose focus is always on inclusivity and accessibility. While the recording undoubtedly lacks the immediacy of a live performance, it does allow anyone, anywhere, to enjoy the show, with the option to pause or rewind as needed, and subtitles to ensure as many people as possible can follow the production’s spoken dialogue and song lyrics. It’s not the same as being there, but in the absence of any other option it’s the next best thing, and perhaps this opportunity may even bring Chickenshed’s work and message to new audiences who wouldn’t otherwise be in a position to enjoy it.

Moving on, then, to the show itself, which this year takes on on the topical subject of global migration from a variety of perspectives. Combining music, dance and drama, the show charts the experience of migration through six phases, and poignantly evokes the sense of loss and isolation that comes with leaving behind the place you call home and starting a new life elsewhere, as well as the physical risk and trauma faced by so many as they flee persecution and attempt to reach safety.

It doesn’t do this through one central character, but instead tells multiple stories of people from different backgrounds, each of them with a unique perspective. We hear from a young girl who can’t understand why she’s been left behind by her father, a mother desperately seeking her young son, who’s vanished overnight in the middle of the Sahara, and – in a surprising but fascinating twist – the smugglers who justify their actions as merely responding to a demand that’s been created by others. We see heartless officials demanding proof of persecution, and traumatised refugees who survived their journey only to be faced with suspicion and paranoia from those they thought would keep them safe.

All this is performed by a cast of 200, who are on stage throughout – even when not actively involved in a scene, the ensemble acts as a silent witness to the events unfolding at centre stage. Taken as a whole, Lou Stein’s production is a visual spectacle, with lighting from Andrew Caddies that perfectly matches the tone of each phase, as well as vibrant choreography and mature performances from a young cast who demonstrate a real and commendable understanding of the show’s complex subject matter.

Photo credit: Chickenshed

While it’s inevitable that the show loses something in recorded format, the themes and stories that it explores still come through loud and clear, and the energy of the performance proves just as infectious in your living room as in a theatre. In addition to everything else, Waiting For The Ship To Sail is also a worthwhile reminder that while our minds and our media may currently be focused on one crisis, that doesn’t mean other, equally urgent, issues have gone away, or become any less deserving of our time and attention.

Watch Waiting For The Ship To Sail online now – it’s free, but donations to Chickenshed are welcome and hugely appreciated.

Review: Snow White at Chickenshed

The run-up to Christmas means different things to different people. For the team at Chickenshed, it means it’s time once again for the challenge of putting 800 people on stage in the company’s final production of the year. Not all at once – there are four casts rotating throughout the six-week run – but still, it’s no mean feat to direct 200 people at a time, particularly when the majority of them are children.

Photo credit: Daniel Beacock

This year, the inclusive theatre company bring us an alternative Snow White. Written and directed by Lou Stein, it’s set in 1960s London, with a feminist plot twist and a heartwarming message about inner beauty, the redemptive power of forgiveness and the importance of staying true to yourself no matter what. Oh, and there’s a couple of really, really catchy tunes that will stay in your head all the way home, whether you like it or not. In other words, it’s the very definition of a Chickenshed Christmas show.

The show isn’t technically a panto – though I was tempted to boo more than once at Sarah Connolly’s gleefully convincing wicked stepmother Jane De Villiers – but it has roughly the same format: lots of musical numbers, a fairly lightweight plot, fabulous costumes, random superfluous characters, a swift and somewhat implausible happy ending, and a little bit of audience participation. There’s even a man in a dress, courtesy of Ashley Driver, who totally steals the show as Jane’s delightfully sassy Mirror. If Kinky Boots ever makes a comeback (please, theatre gods) – I know who I’ll be backing to play Lola.

A bit of romance is also, of course, on the agenda (this is a fairy tale, after all), and Cara McInanny and Nathaniel Leigertwood make an engaging pair as Snow White and security guy/single dad Jason. McInanny has a beautiful voice, and really shines in the musical numbers as her character tries to understand who she is and where she belongs. But there are lighter moments too; the scene in which Jason “kills” Snow White on her stepmother’s orders, for instance, is both a bit surreal and very funny.

Photo credit: Daniel Beacock

Perhaps inevitably, given the sheer number of people involved, there are a few issues with acoustics and it’s sometimes difficult to make out all the lyrics to Dave Carey’s 60s-inspired songs (unless you happen to know BSL, as the whole show is also signed). What the musical numbers sometimes lack in vocal clarity, however, they more than make up for in terms of choreography and sheer enthusiasm. As previously mentioned, at times there are 200 people on stage, and to see them all dancing, singing and having fun together is not only an impressive directorial achievement; it also sums up exactly what Chickenshed is all about. As always, their Christmas show is a festive treat that’s guaranteed to warm your heart and send you home feeling a little bit better about the world. Who can say no to that?

Snow White is at Chickenshed until 11th January.

Review: 100% Chance of Rain at Chickenshed

Since 2017, Chickenshed have used their annual spring show as an opportunity to tackle important issues affecting young people. Following the success of Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow, last year’s Offie-winning take on climate change, this time around the inclusive theatre company is exploring mental health in new show, 100% Chance of Rain.

Conceived and directed by Lou Stein, the ambitious production doesn’t follow a “traditional” narrative thread, but instead is made up of several individual pieces, each depicting a different aspect of mental health through music, movement and storytelling. Linking these together are monologues from the show’s single recurring character, Liz Abulafia (Belinda McGuirk) – an arts therapist who reflects on her own mental health journey through creative expression, and encourages us to do the same.

100% Chance of Rain at Chickenshed
Photo credit: Caz Dyer

Taking this instruction to heart, the production practically bursts with creative talent. The use of colour, light and movement make for a visually stunning combination, the songs are beautifully performed by Chickenshed’s Vocal Voices (their a cappella rendition of Back to Black is a particular highlight), and there’s effective use of projections and video to supplement the action on stage. Though some of the pieces are a little more abstract in their presentation, they remain (with one possible exception) accessible to the audience, never losing sight of their message amidst the spectacle.

One of the things that makes the performance a success is that the diverse and predominantly young cast clearly have a deep understanding of the issues they’re portraying. Each of the seven aspects of mental health explored – which include self-harm, panic attacks, the pressures of being a single parent, and the growing obsession with online gaming – has been workshopped extensively, to ensure that the voice of its performers comes through loud and clear in every case. And as always, it’s a joy to see the Chickenshed spirit of inclusivity and community represented so completely on stage. Just as mental health can affect anyone, so this production has a place for everyone in its cast.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, 100% Chance of Rain is not always an easy watch; it’s both startling and saddening to realise how many different ways young people are suffering, and the decision to add an interval (the performance was originally advertised as 90 minutes straight through) offers a welcome respite. Similarly, the show’s upbeat ending comes at just the right time to save us from descending into a pit of gloom, with the acknowledgment that though things may seem dark right now, at some point the clouds will part and it will get better.

100% Chance of Rain at Chickenshed
Photo credit: Daniel Beacock

Mental health has become an increasingly topical issue in recent years, but it’s still one that individuals can find difficult to discuss on their own behalf, because of embarrassment, denial or simply not realising that what they’re going through “counts” as a mental health problem. Some of the issues covered in 100% Chance of Rain are well-documented – self-harm, for instance, is a serious problem that we know affects many young people. Others are less so; one piece explores the impact of leaving the family home for the first time, and the feelings of isolation and abandonment that it can cause on both sides. Taken as a whole, the show seeks to open up the conversation, and to encourage anyone who’s suffering – in any way – that it’s okay to reach out for help.

Review: Monolog 2 at Chickenshed

Following the success of last year’s inaugural event, Chickenshed’s Monolog is back in 2019 for a second outing. Seven very different pieces of new writing, all for solo performers, have been split into two groups and will be performed on a rolling basis for the duration of the run. On press night, however, we were treated to the full showcase – a varied, thought-provoking and entertaining selection covering a broad range of themes, including pregnancy, prison life, mental health, race and identity, and political protest.

The seven monologues were selected from a wide range of submissions, and each stands out in its own way. In Barbara Bakhurst’s poignant The Hostel Angel, directed by Grace Coulson-Harris, fourteen-year-old Sunny (Sophie White) reflects on life in a hostel with her stepdad. Determined to make the best of their grim living situation, she decorates a chart with stickers and makes cups of tea for the neighbours, as she watches her stepdad quietly fall apart – all while clinging with heartbreaking optimism to the belief that one day her absent mum will come back to them and everything will be okay.

The Hostel Angel illustrated by Martha Vine

There’s more youthful optimism in Face The Strange by Matthew Patenall, directed by Sydney Burges and Bradley Davis. Lee (Alex Murtinheira), a young man with autism, seizes the opportunity to join the protests against Donald Trump’s visit to the UK – but the day doesn’t go quite as planned. The piece asks some searching questions about the nature and effectiveness of public protest, and taps into the growing political engagement of young people across Britain.

The shortest piece in the programme is Belinda and Wendy Sharer’s poetic Mirror Me, directed by Loren Jacobs and Belinda McGuirk. A young woman (Celie Johns Main) dreams of being a dancer, and of being admired by the audience for her talent and tenacity – but a cruel twist reveals those dreams can exist only in her mind. The piece blends words and movement in a beautifully wistful performance. And in We Are All In It Together by Peter Hastings, directed by Rachel Yates (assisted by Ashley Driver), a prisoner (Kieran Faye) sits in his cell, thinking about life behind bars and eagerly anticipating his wife’s visit the next day – even though she missed the last one, and she’s just sent him a letter… Written from first hand experience, this is a keenly observed account of prison life and all the emotions that come with it.

Even, Odd… Odd, Even by Hannah Smith, directed by Sarah Connolly, is set in a dystopian society where everyone’s required by law to wear a number rating their current emotional state from 1 to 100. For one young woman (Sabina Bissett), though, there’s a big difference between the number she displays and how she actually feels. This was one of my favourite pieces of the evening – a powerful and very topical exploration of mental health and the damage that can result from keeping our feelings hidden away.

The panel received and reviewed all submissions for Monolog 2 blind, without knowing who had written what – and it’s both refreshing and encouraging to realise that five out of seven pieces in the resulting showcase are female voices. The final two of these are possibly the strongest of all. In Milly Rolle’s My Exploding Universe, directed by Tiia-Mari Mäkinen, a young woman has just discovered she’s pregnant after a one night stand. Milly Rolle gives an excellent performance; her panic and confusion are palpable as she contemplates her uncertain future, looks back at lessons learnt from her own mum, and confronts the responsibility she now faces of bringing new life into the world.

Stranger illustrated by Ryan Gough

And last but by no means least, Stranger, written and brilliantly performed by Alesha Bhakoo, delves with warmth, humour and insight into the writer’s experience as a second-generation immigrant in the UK, and her struggle to reconcile her two cultures and figure out who she is. Directed by Milly Rolle, Stranger concludes with a surprise twist that reminds the audience what we’re watching isn’t a story but real life.

Monolog makes a dramatic contrast to Chickenshed’s recent Christmas production, which – as is traditional – featured a cast of hundreds. But despite the simple staging and intimate venue, there’s just as much diversity, talent and food for thought to be found in this very enjoyable showcase championing powerful new writing. Who’s up for Monolog 3?


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: A Christmas Carol at Chickenshed

Of all the many, many versions of A Christmas Carol on offer in and around London this festive season, few could be more heartfelt than the one that opened last week at Chickenshed. Charles Dickens’ much-loved message of compassion and generosity is a perfect match for Chickenshed’s own ethos of inclusivity, and presented here by a rotating cast of 200 (per show – 800 in total), the result is both spectacular to watch and joyously festive to experience.

Photo credit: Ava de Souza

The story of miserly Ebenezer Scrooge (Ashley Driver), who sees the error of his ways one Christmas Eve after being visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future, has been updated slightly in Lou Stein’s production to take place not in Victorian London, but in the 1930s. This allows for an element of social commentary on the economic and political climate of the time (and not just of that time; an inadequate welfare system and women demanding equal pay both feature prominently), an attractive Art Deco style set designed by William Fricker, and an enjoyable jazz-inspired feel to Dave Carey’s original musical numbers. But it also, importantly, drives home the timeless relevance of Dickens’ novel and the lessons it imparts; whatever century we’re in, the need to look out for each other never goes away.

In what Chickenshed regulars will recognise as a typically ambitious Christmas production, Ashley Driver confidently and very competently leads the core cast as Scrooge. The success of any production of this story depends on having a central character who the audience both dislikes and believes is capable of change – and this one delivers on both counts; at first every inch the villain, as the story moves on Driver proves he can do fear, bemusement and finally infectious joy just as convincingly. Alongside him, Finn Walters is a very likeable Bob Cratchit – doting father to a humorously excessive number of children – and Paul Harris a suitably spooky Marley (though not as chilling as Will Laurence’s Ghost of Christmas Future; think Dementors on rollerblades and you’re not far off). In one of many magical moments, Ghost of Christmas Present Michael Bossisse makes an unexpected entrance that delights the audience, while Gemilla Shamruk hits all the right notes – in every sense – as the Ghost of Christmas Past.

Photo credit: Caz Dyer

What makes Chickenshed’s A Christmas Carol truly unique, though, is the huge supporting cast. Just as everyone who comes to see a show at the theatre receives the warmest of welcomes, there’s a place too at Chickenshed for anyone who wants to perform, and this is reflected in the diversity, enthusiasm and cooperation we see on stage. Despite the daunting numbers of young people involved, everyone is exceptionally well organised, and there’s a real sense of shared purpose from them all, however big or small their role. And while I’m singing Chickenshed’s praises, let’s also mention it’s great to see a show that not only features signing but places it proudly at front and centre of the performance.

This is theatre for everyone, by everyone – and if it doesn’t get your Christmas spirit going, then frankly I suspect nothing will. I generally make it a rule to try and see only one A Christmas Carol per year; I’m glad this is the one I chose for 2018. It might not be as polished as some, but there’s no doubt it’s got the biggest heart (not to mention cast) of them all.


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… 😉