Tag Archives: ANUSHKA CHAKRAVARTI

ANTIGONE EXITS

★★★★

Minerva Theatre

ANTIGONE EXITS

Minerva Theatre

★★★★

“a thought-provoking and often deeply moving piece of theatre”

Sophocles’ Antigone is more than 2,000 years old, but its central conflict remains remarkably immediate. Antigone’s brother has died in a civil war and her uncle, Creon, now king, has forbidden anyone to bury his body. Antigone is determined to defy him, whatever the consequences.

Antigone Exits, Nina Segal’s adaptation, brings this ancient tragedy into the present day, connecting its questions about war, duty, authority, grief and the treatment of the dead with contemporary experiences. It is a refreshing production that finds an unusual way to make a very old story feel newly relevant.

Seven performers in casual contemporary clothes inhabit the characters, but they also function as something like a Greek chorus. They speak collectively, narrate events and give voice to thoughts that might otherwise remain unspoken. At other points, some step completely outside the drama, moving into the centre of the circle, picking up a microphone and sharing a modern story or experience.

This shifting approach works particularly well. A line such as ‘her child’s questions fill her head’ allows the performers to move beyond simply acting the story and into a shared narration of what the characters are thinking and feeling. The contemporary testimonies then broaden the themes of the tragedy. Some draw direct parallels with current conflicts, including a harrowing recounting of the bodies of five babies recovered in Gaza, while others are more personal, touching on family, childhood, mortality and loss. Max Bennett’s meta-reflection on Antigone through the prism of personal tragedy is particularly powerful and moving.

The seven performers work particularly well as an ensemble. Nina Cassells brings determination and vulnerability to Antigone, while Max Bennett makes Creon a compelling figure, convinced that his decisions are necessary. Anushka Chakravarti (Ismene), Brandon Bassir (Eteocles and Haemon), Lizzy Watts (Eurydice), Melody Chikakane Brown (Tiresias) and Testimony Adegbite (Polyneices and Messenger) all contribute to a company that works particularly well as a collective, moving fluidly between character, chorus and contemporary storyteller. The doubling is especially effective: as Eteocles and Polyneices die, Bassir and Adegbite move into their other roles, reinforcing the sense of a story continually being re-told by those left behind.

Alex Lowde’s design is striking in its simplicity. The stage is painted yellow, with a huge white sphere, rather like a quarter of an eggshell, suspended above it. The actors are already sitting inside it as the audience arrives, and they return to it during the performance, using three boulders to move between the sphere and the floor. There are no conventional sets or props. At one point Antigone pours a black liquid into a perfect circle on the floor, which slowly spreads throughout the performance as the actors carefully avoid it, until they don’t.

The visual effect becomes increasingly potent as the tragedy unfolds. The spreading liquid gradually takes over more of the space, becoming an increasingly powerful image as the body count rises. There is also a striking dance sequence, choreographed by James Cousins, to David Bowie’s ‘Rock ’n’ Roll Suicide’. Uncomfortable to watch and deliberately disruptive, it throws you out of the mood but remains a memorable moment.

Jeff James’s direction keeps the shifts between tragedy, narration and contemporary testimony fluid, without allowing the production to become static. At just 70 minutes, it is a concentrated piece of theatre, but there is plenty here to take away and think about.

There are moments when the contemporary parallels are deliberately direct, but the production is at its most effective when it allows the connections between the ancient story and the present day to emerge through the performers’ experiences.

Segal has created an Antigone that feels both recognisable and unexpected. Its ancient questions remain, but the ways in which they are asked make this a thought-provoking and often deeply moving piece of theatre.



ANTIGONE EXITS

Minerva Theatre

Reviewed on 1st October 2026

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Andy Paradise

 

 

 

 

 

 

ANTIGONE EXITS

ANTIGONE EXITS

ANTIGONE EXITS

THE VIRGINS

★★★

Soho Theatre

THE VIRGINS

Soho Theatre

★★★

“The writer has this gossipy girl talk just right and it’s exquisite”

Virginity, and the loss thereof, is a big money game.

Miriam Battye’s playful script initially lowers the stakes when sweet 16-year-old pals Jess and Chloe convene in the bathroom ahead of their big night out at Lizard Lounge.

The plan is simple, pull a boy then back home sans conquests for chicken dippers and a sleepover.

No reason to be scared. Boys are, after all, “just us, flattened out”.

But the arrival of Anya (Zoe Armer) changes everything. She’s in the year above Jess (Ella Bruccoleri) and Chloe (Anushka Chakravarti) when such gradations matter. Also, she’s made the biggest leap of all and, get this, she’s had sex, actual sex.

The virginal duo becomes a trio with the arrival of perplexed Phoebe (adorable scene stealer Molly Hewitt-Richards) and they all have many questions for Anya – and even more reservations.

Rosie Elnile’s set is split in two, the bathroom on the left and on the right the living room. This is where Chloe’s drippy brother Joel (Ragevan Vasan) is hanging out with cool-as-they-come gym buddy and dullard Mel (Alec Boaden) playing video games.

More on them later, but for now, the mere presence of boys in the house and the hint that Jess may have a crush on her bestie’s dweeb bro adds immediate tension.

Anya changes the rules of the game: Boys in the living room. Let’s get to work, girls. These days we can have it all, no consequences.

In Battye’s twinkling play these bathroom scenes are a joy and a highlight. At one point the girls are all crammed in the bath, as if this is their life raft on a sea of hormones, confusion, shame and uncertainty. The three innocents stared doe-eyed at Anya and each must figure out if losing the big V is a big thing, a small thing, nothing at all or a necessary evil.

The writer has this gossipy girl talk just right and it’s exquisite.

In contrast, what we find in the living room is an absence of anything remotely resembling a boy. Boys don’t talk like girls – they banter, the belittle, they boast – but Joel and Mel’s rare and gnomic utterances are dead on arrival.

The drama is entirely uninterested in the plausibility of the jock and the spineless milksop as friends and Mel’s mini info dump about why modern girls are to blame for modern boys is spurious and inert.

Perhaps Battye is making a point about boys as objects, as alien creatures. But the half and half staging suggests otherwise. On one side, we have natter and nuance, on the other, lumpen lads soaking up real estate.

That is one letdown. The other comes with director Jaz Woodcock-Stewart’s curious pacing. The whole thing is an elongated 85 minutes but could have been a swift and much funnier 65. There are enough comedy smash cuts to move it into the territory of screwball sex comedy – but the director clearly pines for Pinter.

When the girls take over the living room, they suffer from the same torpor, and the pacing never recovers. Yes, there are darker elements at play here, and painful confessions, but they are low-key and strangely lost.

There has been much hype about this play, selling it as a kind of bawdy romp for Gen Z. Battye means to say something meaningful about sex and identity and for that – and for the laughs – she deserves all the plaudits.

But the play is strangely hurried in the key moments and painfully slow elsewhere, making for a night that is as unbalanced as teetering Phoebe on vodka and lemonade.



THE VIRGINS

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 5th February 2026

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Camilla Greenwell


 

 

 

 

THE VIRGINS

THE VIRGINS

THE VIRGINS