Tag Archives: Aundrea Fudge

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

★★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★★

“an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed”

Even one hundred and thirty years after his death, we still haven’t got the pronunciation of Vincent Van Gogh’s name quite right (the Americans are even further off the mark). Which is why Vincent initially introduces himself as ‘Mr Vincent’ in Nicholas Wright’s subtly evocative and brilliantly crafted play “Vincent in Brixton”. Vincent’s frustration is matched by his bewilderment at the English way of life, coupled with a desire to fit in. “I’m learning diplomatic English” he proudly proclaims. But there are other barriers too, most notably his innocent directness and tactlessness – a raw naivety that exposes secrets. This often starts him off on the wrong foot, but Dutch actor Jeroen Frank Kales paints a profoundly endearing picture of the post-impressionist painter in all his eccentricity and candour.

We are in Brixton in the 1870s, where the young Vincent has arrived to work as an art dealer for his family’s business. His heart isn’t in it (we soon learn that his heart is elsewhere) and his own latent artistic talent is still yet to be realised. He moves into the home of widowed teacher Ursula Loyer (Niamh Cusack) and her daughter, Eugenie (Ayesha Ostler). Unaware that Eugenie is secretly and romantically entangled with fellow lodger Sam Plowman (Rawaed Asde), Vincent immediately falls for her with brash inappropriateness, only to rapidly transfer his affections to her mother. It all sounds a touch callous and furtive, but the writing and the acting is so faultlessly accomplished and convincing that what unfolds is a touching story of the transforming power of love. Cusack, dressed in black and still mourning her late husband after fifteen years, shifts from melancholy to pure radiance that has our hearts beating with joy (temporarily… there are twists and reveals in the script that you need to go and find out for yourself).

The attention to detail is extraordinary. Designer Charlotte Henery’s nineteenth century lodging house is beautifully created. Take note – dine well before seeing this show; the aromas of melting butter and roasting lamb will have you salivating while a meal is prepared in real time. References to Van Gogh’s future works are ingeniously and discreetly slotted into the dialogue and the blocking (look out for the pair of boots). Wright has created an artwork in itself, which director Georgia Green has framed with an artist’s eye for perfection.

The story may or may not be true. The events are historically accurate, but the affairs are speculative, yet in this company’s hands they are convincingly real and heartfelt. Kales’ merciless honesty is lovable and hilarious in equal measure. It never takes long for him to smooth the bristles he invariably triggers in others. Ostler’s Eugenie demonstrates the right mix of disdain and affection, while Sam is unfazed by the intrusion and potential rivalry. Asde plays him with a cheeky grin and a sparkling glint in his eye, self-assured in himself but hesitant in his ambitions. The arrival of Vincent’s sister, Anna, is like a brisk wind that has crossed the North Sea. A masterstroke of casting, Amber Van Der Brugge bears a striking resemblance to Kales, along with the same unfiltered, bull-in-a-china-shop way with words, albeit more extreme and officious. Righteous and evangelistic, she drops bombshells as though cracking eggs for a light breakfast. The humour is reinforced by some of Wright’s glorious one-liners, yet we are never detracted from the heart of the story.

This heart belongs to Cusack and Kales. The dynamics seemingly unfeigned and the incongruous passion believably touching. “A woman does not grow old as long as she loves and is loved”, wrote the real Vincent in a letter to his brother. The sentiment is a leitmotif that runs through the play, but it never becomes a sentimental platitude. We are left unsure as to whether the love lasts – a symbolic, candle-snuffing cue to blackout hints at an ending – yet the feeling of joy remains long after curtain call. “Vincent in Brixton” is an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed. Chaotic and intimate, complex but quotidianly accessible. Biographical dramas often fail to convince in an effort to cover too much epic ground. By focusing on a snapshot, whether true to life or not, we are rewarded with a vibrant portrait of life, love and art. What more can you ask for? An unmissable show – although I regret to say that, unless you have bought your ticket already, you may have missed your chance.



VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

Reviewed on 20th March 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson


 

 

 

 

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

RAGDOLL

★★★★

Jermyn Street Theatre

RAGDOLL

Jermyn Street Theatre

★★★★

“a highly watchable cast, delivering line after line of snappy dialogue”

Katherine Moar’s “Ragdoll” is inspired by the trial of Patty Hearst – the heiress turned actress, kidnapped by the Symbionese Liberation Army in the 1970s who was later convicted of working with them and being charged for armed robbery. Her defence lawyer, Francis Lee Bailey, lost the case despite putting forward the fact that she was coerced into it by her captors. Although the names have been changed, there is little to separate the fictional characters from the real-life ones (even the SLA is namedropped). So ‘inspired by’ is probably an understatement. The disguise is a very thin veil. There is no disguising at all, however, the sharpness of Moar’s writing in her thoughtful, thought-provoking, ingeniously structured and punchy new play.

The narrative is split between two pivotal points in the lives of our protagonists. In the late seventies, Holly (Katie Matsell) is awaiting trial for her role in the armed robberies. Her hotshot lawyer, Robert (Ben Lamb) sees it as a case to project his career into the major league. There is a lot of media attention, some of it unwanted and unwarranted. Robert has his own distractions, too, mainly in the shape of a hack journalist out to smear his name. We first meet the couple in the present day. They are estranged by now, but Robert (Nathaniel Parker) is calling in a favour from Holly (Abigail Cruttenden), hoping she can bear witness to his character and help clear him of allegations of an ‘inappropriate nature’. Holly is naturally resentful – having been ghosted and abandoned by Robert decades earlier. We are aghast at Robert’s confidence that borders on arrogance. Tensions and stakes are high, and emotions rise even higher, tempered by moments during which Moar leads us gently into ‘odd-couple’ comedy territory.

We never drift into familiar territory, however. Even if sometimes we think we might be heading that way. Whenever that happens, Moar repeatedly sticks the knife in with a twist, forcing us to look at things in a different way. The two time periods are separated, until further twists reveal how great and significant the overlap is between past and present. A fascinating dramatic device is at play here, which the cast pull off masterfully.

The characters are undoubtedly privileged but are played with a compassion that arouses our sympathy. Matsell’s nervous idealism as the younger Holly turns into the fury and resignation that Cruttenden portrays with a bubbling, volcanic strength. Lamb, as the rising star of the courtroom, hasn’t yet had his smooth confidence worn away by the knocks to his career, while Parker’s present-day Robert, however, clings onto this self-conviction by a thread. They are both victims in a way. Victims of changing times and attitudes as much as circumstance. “If I had died, people would like me more” quips Holly in retrospect, thankfully without sentimentality. Josh Seymour directs with a tight hand on the oscillating structure: the actors watching their other selves, engaging and reacting. Ceci Calf’s simple set, strewn with packing cases, is dominated by an expensive, cream leather sofa, rich in symbolism.

This is only Moar’s second play, but the dialogue has a veteran’s finely-honed shrewdness and insight, offering peep holes into social history as well as the human condition. Its context is specific, but the questions raised are far reaching. With a highly watchable cast, delivering line after line of snappy dialogue, “Ragdoll” is an absolute joy to watch. We barely have time to think about what we are supposed to be thinking about – there’s time to do that on the tube journey home. We know, though, that we have been in the presence of a writing talent to keep an eye out for.

 

RAGDOLL

Jermyn Street Theatre

Reviewed on 14th October 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Alex Brenner


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

EXTRAORDINARY WOMEN | ★★★★★ | July 2025
LITTLE BROTHER | ★★★ | May 2025
OUTLYING ISLANDS | ★★★★ | February 2025
THE MAIDS | ★★★ | January 2025
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

 

 

RAGDOLL

RAGDOLL

RAGDOLL