Tag Archives: Annie Kershaw

PRIVATE VIEW

★★★★

Soho Theatre

PRIVATE VIEW

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“performances that are magnetic and unsettling”

Don’t let the short running time fool you. Private View is a rich, emotionally and intellectually rewarding play. Jess Edwards charts a Sapphic relationship from the first flicker of attraction into far more complicated territory where differences in age, experience, wealth and status continually reshape the balance of power. It is clever, unsettling writing that refuses simple answers. Annie Kershaw’s lean, precise direction heightens the tension and keeps the momentum taut. The two women are never named; in the programme they appear simply as A and B.

A, played by Patricia Allison, is 23, a PhD student in physics and philosophy. B describes her as “luminous” when they first meet and the production leans into that with bright, tight-fitting fast-fashion pieces that amplify her freshness and immediacy. Allison’s performance, though, gives A something deeper. She is quick, curious and immediately engaging. Her speech fizzes with youthful energy, full of unfinished thoughts, yet when she talks about her research it becomes crisp, focused and passionate. Edwards’ writing creates a deliberate tension between her scientific confidence and her emotional newness, particularly as she experiences queer desire for the first time. Her youth and beauty give her fleeting leverage, even a sharpness that borders on cruelty, but she remains vulnerable beneath it.

B, played by Stefanie Martini, is 38 and an established photographer whose work sells for high prices. Martini’s early scenes give her a composed, articulate confidence, someone used to being the older and steadier presence. The costuming reinforces this with well-chosen natural fibres and subtle luxury, the kind of quietly expensive wardrobe that signals success without drawing attention to itself. As the play unfolds, cracks appear: the history of alcoholism, past failures and a hungry obsessiveness toward A that becomes harder to disguise. Edwards gives B advantages in age, experience and money and Martini reinforces these through precise gestures and controlled posture, although a nervous need to be liked and wanted keeps breaking through. But that authority is never fixed. It flickers, unravels, reforms. The shifting power between A and B becomes one of Private View’s sharpest tools and both actors handle those turns with nuance.

The play traces their relationship with close and often uncomfortable detail. Desire intensifies, old wounds rise to the surface and what begins with seductive ease becomes something far more tangled. Their flirtation with dominance and submission adds heat in the bedroom but also destabilises everything outside it. Differences in class, age and emotional history complicate every moment, making their connection alluring one second and unnerving the next. Edwards keeps the question of control open which is precisely what gives the piece its bite.

Allison and Martini rise to the show’s demands with performances that are magnetic and unsettling. Allison’s openness makes A instantly appealing while Martini’s measured exterior hides something sharper and more volatile. Their chemistry is charged, unpredictable and occasionally difficult to watch.

Kershaw’s direction keeps the atmosphere tightly coiled without ever overplaying it. Ingrid Mackinnon’s movement and intimacy work gives weight to the smallest shifts in breath, posture and space. Catja Hamilton’s lighting moves between warmth and stark clarity, including a striking sequence in near darkness that recalls B’s photographic practice. Georgia Wilmot’s sparse set and carefully considered costume design reinforce the piece’s study of difference, desire and instability. Scene changes, achieved through shifts in body language, posture and lighting, carry a dry wit that keeps the pace alive.

By the end, the initial thrill between A and B has thickened into something claustrophobic. Private View shows with unsettling precision how desire, power and coercion can twist together until they are impossible to separate. Intelligent, stylish and quietly disturbing, it is a compelling study of a relationship folding in on itself and leaving little room to breathe.



PRIVATE VIEW

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 2nd December 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Ciara Robinson


 

Previously reviewed at Soho Theatre venues:

CAMILLE O’SULLIVAN: LOVE LETTER | ★★★★★ | November 2025
JURASSIC | ★★★ | November 2025
LITTLE BROTHER | ★★★★ | October 2025
BOG WITCH | ★★★½ | October 2025
MY ENGLISH PERSIAN KITCHEN | ★★★★ | October 2025
ENGLISH KINGS KILLING FOREIGNERS | ★★★½ | September 2025
REALLY GOOD EXPOSURE | ★★★★ | September 2025
JUSTIN VIVIAN BOND: SEX WITH STRANGERS | ★★★★★ | July 2025
ALEX KEALY: THE FEAR | ★★★★ | June 2025
KIERAN HODGSON: VOICE OF AMERICA | ★★★★★ | June 2025

 

 

PRIVATE VIEW

PRIVATE VIEW

PRIVATE VIEW

THE MAIDS

★★★

Jermyn Street Theatre

THE MAIDS

Jermyn Street Theatre

★★★

“Martin Crimp’s translation faithfully brings out the anarchic poetry of Genet’s language”

Most crime dramas (not that Jean Genet’s “The Maids” can be specifically classified as one) these days tend to start with the crime – usually a murder – and work backwards. What makes Genet’s play stand out from the crowd is the focus on the build-up rather than retrospective investigation. A slightly surreal evolution of events and dialogue that is steeped in invention, make-believe and role play. So much so that it is almost impossible to distinguish reality from fantasy throughout. Ironic, too, in that his flight of fancy is based on the real-life scandal of two sisters who brutally murdered their employer and her daughter.

Genet’s story examines two sisters, Claire and Solange, who fantasise about and act out murdering their mistress. But as soon as the house lights fade, we know we are being played with. The opening dialogue – alternately cruel, sharp and funny – between the ‘Mistress’ and Claire has us making judgements on the dynamic coupling; only to discover that we are in fact watching Claire ‘being’ the Mistress and Solange ‘being’ Claire. This playful doubling and verbal smoke-and-mirrors technique keeps us on our toes, but unfortunately prevents us from caring much for the characters. It is all quite one sided too. The maids get to vocalise their frustrations and overblown sense of oppression, while their mistress has little say of her own. It is hard to sympathise with the extreme emotions and motives on display. Particularly when Carla Harrison-Hodge’s excellent portrayal of the ‘Mistress’ brings out the humour so succinctly. She may be a privileged bully, but we can never believe she has earned her fate.

Under Annie Kershaw’s fast paced direction, the cast are all very watchable indeed as they spiral out of control, losing touch with their own realities. Anna Popplewell, as Solange, is the more unbalanced maid – one minute an ingenue, the next a ruthless martyr. Charlie Oscar gives a strength to the weaker sister that layers more dimensions onto her character than Genet probably intended. Their onstage chemistry is captivating as they pace around each other within the confines of the space. Cat Fuller’s simple but clever set design places the action within the Mistress’ boudoir, presented as a padded cell which further plays with our sense of reality. An oversized mirror lets part of the audience see themselves, while the sisters repeatedly gaze at their own reflections. Perhaps we are being told that they represent us, but if so, it is a concept that is as impossible to grasp as it is to relate to these personalities. Nevertheless, the acting is captivating enough to guide us through Genet’s often esoteric writing. Popplewell’s heightened monologue that brings us to the climax of the piece is a tour de force.

Martin Crimp’s translation faithfully brings out the anarchic poetry of Genet’s language. Yet it is hard to disguise the self-indulgence in the dialogue as it spirals inwards into ever confusing and smaller circles. The text is too successful in its aim to be ambiguous and obscure. It is saved by the trio’s performance, that transforms an extended and directionless game of role play into a dynamic piece of theatre.

 



THE MAIDS

Jermyn Street Theatre

Reviewed on 10th January 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Steve Gregson

 

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

NAPOLEON: UN PETIT PANTOMIME | ★★★★ | November 2024
EURYDICE | ★★ | October 2024
LAUGHING BOY | ★★★ | May 2024
THE LONELY LONDONERS | ★★★★ | March 2024
TWO ROUNDS | ★★★ | February 2024
THE BEAUTIFUL FUTURE IS COMING | ★★★★ | January 2024
OWNERS | ★★★½ | October 2023
INFAMOUS | ★★★★ | September 2023
SPIRAL | ★★ | August 2023
FARM HALL | ★★★★ | March 2023

The Maids

 Maids

The Maids