★★★★★

“complex and compelling”

Award winning playwright Joshua Harmon’s UK debut of ‘We Had A World’ resonates with bite and balance, cutting straight to the heart of tangled family dynamics. Harmon’s witty, disarming script skilfully melds fearless honesty with telling hesitations, and backed by striking design and a superb cast, this is one not to miss.

Drawn from Harmon’s own experience, Joshua’s grandmother is dying. Memories resurface – both tender and painful – revealing the flawed legacy of a complicated matriarch. How much are Joshua and his mother willing to salvage before they have to say goodbye?

Harmon’s superb constructivist script forces us to wrangle reality from three very different perspectives. It’s full of meta moments that keep you guessing – the self-aware language and script breaking characters are particularly strong. Bursts of naturalism are equally satisfying, especially when the usually forthright Ellen can’t find the words. The literal re-writes – offering some of the redemption characters missed in real life – land with rich complexity. It’s not perfect – the climate change angle sits a little loosely, and the richness of New York may drift past UK audiences – but overall it’s a tenderly crafted warts and all portrait that resonates deeply.

The award winning Josh Seymour’s direction elevates the piece at every turn. The art gallery setting – complete with self aware installation – frames the text with real intelligence. The pacing and character work sharpen the tension, expertly ebbing and flowing as it might in real life. Ellen’s struggle to articulate herself around her mother, contrasted with Renee’s affected fluency, is especially revealing. The audience holds it breath at several points. Ingrid Mackinnon’s constantly shifting movement adds a striking visual layer, playing smartly with love triangle geometry and emotional imbalance. The one moment they finally align – right before everything blows up – is a brilliant touch.

Sarah Beaton’s gallery design is strikingly simple yet deeply attuned to the text, teasing out the shade of green Renee mentions and realising the climate crisis through a perfectly judged modern art installation. Joshua Gadsby’s lighting subtly frames it all, making the space feel like a living canvas. Lex Kosanke’s sparse sound design gives moments real sparkle while wisely leaving the vivid language to carry the rest. Costumes extend the art world logic: Renee and Joshua’s complementary colours underline their mirrored yet opposing personalities, while Ellen’s more black-and-white palette speaks volumes.

The superb three hander cast delivers a masterclass in complexity and subtext, revealing their humanity in beautifully grey tones. Anna Francolini’s Ellen is an undeniable standout, her face revealing everything her precisely managed words cannot. Suzanne Bertish’s Renee is the epitome of a layered matriarch, gripping life so tightly she risks crushing those around her. Ryan Kopel nails Joshua’s journey, gradually adding layers of clarity that bring his impossible situation into focus, and navigating the fallout with real finesse.

‘We Had A World’ is complex and compelling – a masterfully executed piece. Catch it while you can.

TWELFTH NIGHT at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“The emotional stakes reach the treetops in the park. The magic shoots for the stars. It is innovative, funny, cheeky, camp and degenerate.”

I’ve never really been sure where Illyria was geographically, but walking away from Regent’s Park, as the moon rises and the lights twinkle through the greenery, the urge to pinpoint it on the map is great. It seems to be somewhere between Montenegro and Croatia. But what a fabulous holiday destination it would make. Not for the sun and the sea, mind. But the locals. According to Owen Horsley’s louche version of “Twelfth Night”, there’s a little harbour café, named after its eccentric owner, Olivia. Its décor as unprincipled as the people that gather there, full of debauchery, music, liquor and queerness. It is Olivia’s world. Played by the tremendous Anna Francolini, Olivia grandly presents herself, channelling Norma Desmond, veiled in black lace and bluesy piano chords in five-four time. Belting ballads and clutching her brother’s ashes, Francolini sets the tone. Loud in her grief, silent in her longing, and always self-mocking.

You just want to go there and while away the early hours with this motley crew. The bar has seen better days. And so has Sir Toby Belch. Michael Matus, as off-duty and off-his-head drag queen, is a loveably licentious Toby, smeared in campness and lipstick. Matthew Spencer’s Andrew Aguecheek is a foppish travelling salesman type. A sofa-crasher, teetering on the verge of outstaying his welcome. Anita Reynold’s Maria is on hand to out-mischief her mischievous colleagues, while Julie Legrand’s Feste is primed with wistful wisdom, ready to out-sing her hostess. Weaving himself into the throng is Malvolio, a deliciously prim Richard Cant with sinewy self-righteousness, flexing his indignation like a haughty schoolmistress.

The band of musicians add merriment and melancholy in equal measure. Late night jazz adds magic to the twilight while a saxophone cries to the moon. The intended queerness that Horsley is unearthing from Shakespeare’s text is less a celebration than an extra layer. What comes across more is the eccentricity and the camaraderie, the joie-de-vivre and the affectionate rivalry. Shipwrecked, and stumbling into this mayhem, Viola (the brilliantly sassy Evelyn Miller) surprisingly takes it all in her stride. Mind you, she has just run into the dashing Orsino (a thoughtful and commanding Raphael Bushay), so her mind is on other matters. Dressed as a boy – Cesario – she is reluctantly despatched to persuade Olivia of Orsino’s unrequited love. But damn it all – Olivia swoops out of her veil to pop her lusty eyes on the alluring amorousness that Cesario/Viola exudes.

Interestingly, the secondary plotline explores the unrequited love more convincingly. Antonio draws the short straw, always the one left alone at the end of the play. Nicholas Karimi is a potent symbol of loyalty, also subtly conveying the shadowed buds of love for Sebastian. Andro Cowperthwaite (a dead-ringer for Miller’s Viola), while returning the affection has the thankless task of being too easily seduced by Olivia. We never lose sympathy, but the haste with which the happy couples all come together is a flaw which dents our empathy. Similarly, the cruelty towards Malvolio fails to come across sufficiently, and his vow for revenge resembles a telling off in an unruly classroom. What is achieved, however, is a novel and refreshing sense of forgiveness, which steers us towards a finale steeped in affection and fellowship.

The emotional stakes reach the treetops in the park. The magic shoots for the stars. It is innovative, funny, cheeky, camp and degenerate. Again, if only this bar could be found in a holiday brochure. I’d be there like a shot. You just want to spend as much time as possible with these characters. Well – actually – you can do that by going to the Open Air Theatre in Regent’s Park. And I strongly urge you to do so.

Tag Archives: Anna Francolini

WE HAD A WORLD

★★★★★

Hampstead Theatre

WE HAD A WORLD

Hampstead Theatre

★★★★★

“complex and compelling”

WE HAD A WORLD

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 8th June 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Marc Brenner

WE HAD A WORLD

WE HAD A WORLD

WE HAD A WORLD

🎭 A TOP SHOW IN MAY 2024 🎭

TWELFTH NIGHT

★★★★★

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

TWELFTH NIGHT at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“The emotional stakes reach the treetops in the park. The magic shoots for the stars. It is innovative, funny, cheeky, camp and degenerate.”