Tag Archives: Brandon Kimaryo

SAME

★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

SAME

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★

“honest, powerful, and true — and, perhaps most importantly, hopeful”

Many men carry complicated maps of their fathers in their hearts — some routes well-trodden, others broken off mid-journey. In Same, two best mates, James and Lewis, wrestle with the weight of those inherited paths. Do the sins of the father echo through the son? Can a pattern be broken before it repeats? Are the families we are born into the cards we’re dealt… or the ones we would ever truly choose?

Here we meet four characters, all adrift: fathers who have vanished or moved on, mothers who drown their sorrows in drink and drown their lives in a sea of overdue bills, a letter left unopened — the kind that can change a life, or slip silently into dust. Each of them searches for a way forward, a way out, a way home.

This is a finely wrought work, rooted in a subject that demands to be voiced. It is rare these days to see a story that examines male fragility alongside male resilience, one that does not flinch from the emotional weather of men. But Same does more than stage a drama — it holds up a mirror to its audience. It quietly asks: Are you struggling? Are you okay? Do you need someone to talk to? It is a hand extended, not just a curtain lifted.

The piece is still at the beginning of its journey. It probably will be longer or develop some second half that brings the audience into its script and onto its stage. There is much to cherish: the solid ensemble of Brandon Kimaryo, Jason Avlonitis, Miles Dunkley, and Aimee Samara; the vision of creators Francesca Di Cesare and Aimee Samara; the script by Aimee Samara; and a hauntingly beautiful score by Concerto Main, which shapes the emotional spine of the work. Same is honest, powerful, and true — and, perhaps most importantly, hopeful.

Performed in the Olive Studio at Greenside George Street — an intimate, low-ceilinged space that feels like a warm held breath. The lighting could benefit from a designer’s touch to refocus and illuminate the actors’ faces and the delicate intention of the work. Yet, somehow, the story glows from within, finding its own light.

Same may not be your story. You may not leave feeling the same as your neighbour. But when I saw it, it struck a chord that hummed the same in all who were there — an unspoken recognition, that was the same for all observers, as if we’d all been handed the same letter, and finally decided to read it.



SAME

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 11th August 2025 at Olive Studio at Greenside @ George Street

by Louis Kavouras

Photography by Bradey Fallon 

 

 

 

 

 

SAME

SAME

SAME

Vincent River

Vincent River

★★★

Greenwich Theatre

VINCENT RIVER at the Greenwich Theatre

★★★

Vincent River

“Taylor and Kimaryo are convincing and honest enough together”

 

The tragic themes in Philip Ridley’s one act two-hander, first produced in 2000 and regularly revived since, sadly retain their relevance today. This new production is set in a rather timeless era though with old-fashioned decor (and no evidence of any mobile phones) so we could be watching a period piece set anytime from the 1980s onwards.

The action takes place in a shabby room in East London with a ghastly red fitted carpet, whitewashed windows, peeling wallpaper, and a cruddy-looking sofa. There is a scattering of boxes around the floor, evidencing that Anita (Kerrie Taylor) has not yet finished moving in. A naked light bulb hangs from the ceiling. (Set & Costume Designer Alice Carroll).

Forced out of her previous home by gossiping neighbours, Anita is looking for a new start. But a boy who she has seen loitering near her old house, has now followed her here and she is curious to find out why. Davey (Brandon Kimaryo) – full of nervous energy, twisting and turning, unable to keep still – walks in through her open door and admits to having found the dead body of Anita’s son Vince, killed in a homophobic attack in an unsavoury disused station toilet. He now cannot unsee what he saw and wants to talk about Vince to make him “walk out of his head”.

Anita is full of suppressed anger. Her mood is volatile, quick to pique. Her voice rises to a shriek and then falls again to a whisper. She suspects Davey of involvement somehow in Vince’s death, certainly he knows more than he is saying. Facing off across the room, two metres apart, they interrogate each other. He wants to know all about the boy. She needs to know details of his death. When they encroach closer, Davey towers over her. She gives him cigarettes and gin. He gives her a foot massage and dope.

Together they replay what occurred on the fateful day, pacing out the action across the living room carpet. Director James Haddrell moves the couple around the room naturally and is not afraid to have them sit in silence when the conversation dries up. Little by little, they give up bits of their own story to learn something new from the other. But Davey has the more to explain and when he removes his black hoodie prior to an explosion of visceral grief, his smart shirt below is drenched in sweat.

The closing scene as Davey attempts to assuage his own feelings of guilt might have been a stretch for a young actor but Kimaryo (making his professional debut whilst still at drama school) nails it totally in a masterful display. Kerrie Taylor performs well too, collapsing to the floor in her own moment of despair. The complete story is finally told – tragic, sickening, and in parts somewhat implausible – but Taylor and Kimaryo are convincing and honest enough together that the action grips without slipping into soap opera.

 

 

Reviewed on 27th June 2023

by Phillip Money

Photography by Henry Roberts

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

An Intervention | ★★★½ | July 2022
Bad Days And Odd Nights | ★★★★★ | June 2021

 

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