★★★

“intriguing and thought provoking”

Noga Flaishon’s “Memoriam” is being sold as a science fiction. In fact, Flaishon herself goes one step further by calling it a “Jewish science fiction… now, there’s a genre you don’t see every day!”. She is half right. Her somewhat bleak but frequently humorous one-act play explores a deep part of Jewish culture, but its context is closer to science fact than fiction. Set in the near future, the themes and morals it throws up are decidedly current.

The tech company ‘Memoriam’ is able to extract human memories, digitalise them and sell them on as virtual reality experiences to subscribers who pay quite a large premium. The original intention may have been honourable, but commercialism and commodification has crept in. Those who provide their own memories sign away their rights, allowing the company to edit and sanitise them for the mass market. A bit like an author selling the film rights to a personal memoir, only to be horrified at the resulting schmaltzy blockbuster that butchers their private sense of identity and history. This dilemma is magnified when the subject covers global atrocities and genocide. The timing of this play is quite pertinent, at a disturbing time when history and living memory are becoming increasingly distorted (depending on what statistics you believe, apparently 60% of young people today cannot differentiate between fact and misinformation.)

Company employee Rachel (Rachel Barry) is under pressure to meet targets. Having secured the memories of Becky’s (Jimena Larraguivel) troubled pregnancy and labour, she is encouraged by her boss Chris (Ben Wiggins) to turn her attention to her grandmother, Rivka (Beverley Klein): the last living survivor of the Holocaust. Her brother David (Ashley Margolis) is, for dramatic purposes, vehemently against the idea, ostensibly to fuel the domestic conflicts that are inherent and central to the narrative.

Played in the round we reap the advantages and disadvantages of this choice. Ellie Wintour’s stark set gives the feel that we are looking through a cracked shell into these characters’ lives. Along with Jonathan Chan’s clinical lighting and Sarah Spencer’s cyber-infused sound design and music, we could well imagine that we are witnessing some sort of virtual reality itself. But, unable to address all of the people all of the time, many lines are lost as backs are turned and arguments spiral. An opening monologue is particularly indecipherable.

Once we are in the thick of it, we are given much food for thought. Barry’s Rachel is initially nervy and a bit geeky until her cooler pragmatic side shines through. She doesn’t question her own morals so much as to shy away from approaching the formidable figure of Rivka with the proposition. Klein’s performance of Rivka holds the piece together with a genuine and touching portrayal of the matriarch; stern and principled, yet loving and still haunted by the atrocities she has witnessed. She also comes equipped with some of the best lines.

The issues are dealt with smartly and quite astutely, even if the writing never probes too deeply. Should Rivka’s memories of the Holocaust be used for commercial gain? And, more importantly, should the company be allowed to manipulate them to make them more viewer friendly? Rivka will only consider the deal with the stipulation that they “leave them ugly”. Daniel Goldman’s direction skilfully weaves the polemic into a warm-hearted family saga, but ultimately both are a little compromised. The real impact comes when the technology is set aside and Rivka opens up to Rachel face to face. The virtual reality experience induces what Flaishon describes as “pain shock” (clumsily reenacted on the stage with dubious physicality); but a good old tête-a-tête creates the warmth, pathos, understanding and connection that is in danger of being lost forever.

“Memoriam” is intriguing and thought provoking; the satire not always hitting home, but a chilling insight into what could feasibly be just around the corner. That it is softened by placing it in a domestic setting is part of its charm. The other part is Klein’s performance, which harks back to the fine art of storytelling. There is no ‘virtual’ about the reality of that.

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

Barbican

★★★★★

“Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision”

In its Barbican transfer, director Jordan Fein’s revelatory Fiddler on the Roof retains the elemental power that made it a five-star phenomenon in Regent’s Park. He strips the beloved 1964 musical of its nostalgic veneer to expose something more potent and contemporary: a raw and resonant meditation on tradition, displacement, and the endurance of community.

Fun, too, in case there should be a misunderstanding. Great fun.

Set in 1905 in the menaced Jewish shtetl of Anatevka before the Russian revolution, Fiddler follows Tevye, a weary but devout milkman, as his five daughters begin to choose love over arranged marriage, and the outside world encroaches upon his way of life.

Anchored by songs like Tradition, If I Were a Rich Man, and Sunrise, Sunset, it’s long been cherished for its warmth and wit. But Fein’s version – subtly but decisively restaged – asks more interesting and topical questions too: what happens when the traditions that once sustained a community begin to fracture under the weight of change? What is the true impact of displacement, of a people menaced from their homes?

Where the musical was once critiqued as “shtetl sentimentalism,” this staging leans into pared-down grit, stoic humour, and haunting lyricism. There is a modern feel to the witty script – and to the resolutely ambiguous ending.

Tom Scutt’s gorgeous design is emblematic of the approach: instead of quaint rooftops, we see cornstalks uprooted and suspended above the stage, evoking both harvest and trauma. The titular fiddler (a magnetic Raphael Papo) becomes not just a symbol but a shadowy companion, echoing Tevye’s inner world with eerie cadenzas and an eventual duet with Hannah Bristow’s Chava – whose marriage outside the faith breaks her father’s beleaguered heart.

The huge cast is potent, using impressive numbers to magnificent effect, a dream sequence appearing like a fully-realised Hollywood dance number. Meanwhile, Adam Dannheisser’s Tevye is no grandstanding showman but a wry, tired father trying – and failing – to hold his family together through reason, prayer, and rueful monologues. His comedic timing is sharp and he plays out with great relish the classic sitcom paradigm of the father and husband who declares his dominance only to have it slyly eroded by the headstrong women around him.

But it’s his gentleness that resonates most, particularly opposite Lara Pulver’s commanding Golde, whose grounded and wary pragmatism keeps the domestic scenes taut and touching.

Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision. The Bottle Dance at Tzeitel’s wedding is performed under a canopy that rises and falls. On top of that precarious canopy, and ominous, the fiddler makes clear that everything is poised on the brink of a mighty disaster. The Russians are coming.

The cast functions as a true community, especially in the spine-tingling finale as they sing Anatevka, their voices braided with longing, resilience, and bitter clarity. In a final image, the toppled milk cart, beautifully lit, appears like an oil painting. Everywhere, indeed, there is beauty and catastrophe.

One of Fein’s many achievements lies in his refusal to oversell modern parallels. The production trusts its audience to make the connections – to recognise in Anatevka’s forced dispersal the long shadow of global displacement. It neither moralises nor rants; it simply tells the story with integrity and emotional intelligence.

For all its sumptuous visual invention and musical flair, Fiddler is most powerful in its silences: a father cut off from his daughter, a community carrying candles into the dark, a fiddler playing an aching lament.

Tag Archives: Beverley Klein

MEMORIAM

★★★

Southwark Playhouse Borough

MEMORIAM

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“intriguing and thought provoking”

MEMORIAM

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 26th October 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Charlie Flint

MEMORIAM

MEMORIAM

MEMORIAM

MEMORIAM

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

★★★★★

Barbican

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

Barbican

★★★★★

“Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision”