PARTY SEASON

Royal and Derngate Theatre

★★★

“You’ll be laughing one minute and welling up the next”

Wardrobe Ensemble’s latest creation, ‘Party Season’ – premiering at the Royal & Derngate ahead of its UK tour – delivers sharp humour and real poignancy, capturing the chaos and tenderness of new parenthood. The script could use a little tightening, but it’s still a funny, touching ride for anyone who’s been there.

After moving back home unexpectedly, Xander’s faced with a manic weekend of solo parenting that drags old memories to the surface. As past and present collide, can he break old patterns before they break him?

Devised by the Wardrobe Ensemble and cast, with dramaturgical support from Tom Brennan, expect lots of sharp, funny insights into parenthood. From first party panic to newborn exhaustion, and child-free privilege to the relentless parents’ WhatsApp group, it nails the highs and lows. There’s real heart too, with Simone’s breathtaking monologue on motherhood landing with lyrical force. However, as a devised piece, it feels composed of discrete sections which don’t always cohere. Simone’s horror film-esque jump scares jar with her motherhood monologue, and the barrage of text messages and voice notes – while hilarious – feels over emphasised. Crucially, the emotional thread of the piece – Xander’s troubled relationship with his late father – doesn’t quite get the payoff it deserves. With a little reshaping this could be something really special.

o directors Helena Seneca and Jesse Jones, with trainee assistant Gracie Eve, deliver some standout moments. The snappy use of tech – especially the explosive phone sequence – really makes scenes pop, and the movement work is beautifully judged. Doors create various moods, from feeling on the outside to feeling trapped. Other elements work less well: the Entertainer’s opener could do with a little more spark; the “children’s” switch from kneeling to standing is a little awkward; and a few characters stay caricatures while others deepen. Still, it’s confident, inventive work.

Bronia Housman’s single set is stunning: the cheery balloons feel both carefree and untethered, and the forced perspective doorways add a subtle house of horrors edge. Housman’s naturalistic costumes keep the story grounded in real people. Beth Duke’s sound design brings the world to life with pop brightness and tense ambience, while Chris Swain’s slick lighting delivers both high energy punch and quiet emotional depth. Together with assistant designer Miranda Cattermole, the design really stands out.

The ensemble of cast and devisors clicks with real cohesion. Tom England gives Xander searching emotional depth, and Kerry Lovell’s multi roling is pitch perfect, especially the quietly devastating motherhood monologue. Fowzia Madar brings warmth and nuance as Bea, while Jesse Meadows’ Celia is a comic highlight, even if the script limits Celia’s emotional arc. Ben Vardy’s grounded David is a great counterpoint, and James Newton offers engaging contrast between the endearing Felix and knowing Entertainer. Jacade Simpson’s Kane and Aonghus are sharply drawn and very funny. A strong, well matched cast.

‘Party Season’ brings a little more party than punch, but its take on parenthood still hits home. You’ll be laughing one minute and welling up the next, so catch it on tour while you can.

PARTY SEASON

Royal and Derngate Theatre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 10th April 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Paul Blakemore

PARTY SEASON

★★★★

“a sophisticated and ambitious piece of writing”

Four generations of Northern Irish women gather for their great-grandmother’s 90th birthday: a family kitchen, a table set for dinner, and a tangle of unspoken histories. Over the course of the meal, tensions simmer, humour bubbles, and old wounds begin to show.
Karis Kelly’s Consumed, winner of the Women’s Prize for Playwriting, starts as a sharp and funny domestic drama. There is a clear and believable connection between the four women, with glances, shared gestures, and that mix of affection and irritation that comes from a lifetime under the same family roof. The youngest of the four, Muireann (Muireann Ní Fhaogáin), passionate about climate change, patriarchy and oat milk, clashes with the more traditional views of her elders, while the matriarchal Eileen (Julia Dearden) and her daughter Gilly (Andrea Irvine) bring their own layered history into the room. References to marriage, relationships, and what it means to “wear the trousers” in a partnership give a smart, often funny look at generational shifts and the ways some things have not shifted at all.

The performances are uniformly strong. Dearden brings a magnetic, grounded presence to great-grandmother Eileen, her deep voice and unfiltered honesty contrasting beautifully with Irvine’s effervescent Gilly, who hides her own struggles behind a bubbly façade. Caoimhe Farren has admirable conviction as Jenny and takes her to the extremities of emotion on her journey through the play. Ní Fhaogáin is convincing as the teenager great-granddaughter, although at times could do a little more to ensure she is keeping in tone with the rest of the cast.

Lily Arnold’s set is gorgeous in its detail, from the mould creeping through the wallpaper to the scuffed skirting boards and the cupboard crammed with expired tins and Bags for Life. The latter is a sly nod to the generational gap between caring for the planet and knowing how to go about it in practice. The smell of real cooking drifts into the audience, making the kitchen feel genuinely lived-in. Beth Duke’s sound design, Guy Hoare’s lighting and Karis Kelly’s witty script combine to welcome us fully into this family home.

As the piece moves into its final third, the familiar realism tilts suddenly towards supernatural horror. Flickering lights and rumbling sounds hint at something darker lurking in the house. It is an exciting shift in the writing, but the transition feels abrupt in performance. The tone wavers between psychological horror and heightened dark comedy, leaving some moments caught between the two without committing fully to either. A couple of emotional escalations, such as Jenny’s sudden outburst trashing the room, also jar against the otherwise well-paced dynamics.

Even with those uneven final beats, Consumed is a sophisticated and ambitious piece of writing, rich with ideas about generational trauma, women’s roles, and the histories we carry in our bodies as well as our memories. It is sharply funny, often moving, and brought to life by four captivating performances. With a little more space to breathe into its tonal shift, it could land with even greater impact.

Tag Archives: Beth Duke

PARTY SEASON

★★★

UK Tour

PARTY SEASON

Royal and Derngate Theatre

★★★

“You’ll be laughing one minute and welling up the next”

PARTY SEASON