LOVETT
Bridewell Theatre
★★★★
“gripping, surprising, unsettling”
Suppose Mrs Lovett— butcher of human flesh from the tale of Sweeney Todd— offered you one of her grisly pies. Can you imagine gobbling it down and then asking for more? That’s what Lovett, a ghoulish treat of a play manages to make you do.
Eleanor Lovett (Lucy Roslyn, who also wrote the show) invites us to hear her origin story. Not her perspective on the famous melodrama, but the events that shaped her life. We hear about her upbringing, her existence on the margins of society, how she learned the craft of butchery. The visceral intensity of the tale is fascinating— horrible and beautiful at once. She describes her childhood wonder at seeing a whale in the Thames, and her intrigued disgust as the creature’s carcass is consumed by the ravenous city. Nothing innocent in Eleanor’s world is left uncorrupted or uncommoditised.
Roslyn’s writing is so detailed, so full of character and flickering moods, that it doesn’t feel like anyone actually wrote it at all. We hear the lively testimony of a slightly unhinged, wounded raconteur, as if it’s just occurring to her.
The performance is gripping, surprising, unsettling. There’s so much variety throughout, so many tones of voice, accents, gestures, emotions. The humour made me laugh out loud, but I never felt safe to laugh, because Eleanor is so unnerving— what will she spring next? The effect is both mesmerising and uncanny. She draws us in, savouring her story, but she never lets us forget her darkness.
All the characters in Eleanor’s life are embodied by Roslyn, switching between them casually and clearly. But while each new personality is convincing, they remain Eleanor’s impersonation of them. She is always in control of the narrative.
And ultimately this is a story about taking control. A woman struggling against the confines of rigid patriarchal structures— traditional female roles, marriage, financial survival, the hopes and hypocrisy of the church. These strictures— along with unrequited desire— twist and constrict Eleanor like the corset she wears. She howls to get out, to assert herself. But it’s too late. She’s already warped.
It’s an ingenious performance, and very cleverly directed by Jamie Firth to bring freshness and contrast to almost every line. The sound design by Annie May Fletcher gives a haunting extra dimension, evoking the gothic atmosphere of Victorian London.
With so much to relish, it’s a shame Lovett couldn’t have taken us even further into Eleanor’s story, further into the career of human butchery she’s so famous for. The play builds to a macabre climax, but the fact that it still left me wanting more— another pie please, Mrs Lovett— is an amazing feat of theatre. Lovett’s squeamish fare will leave you hungry for seconds.
LOVETT
Bridewell Theatre then UK Tour continues
Reviewed on 24th September 2026
by Benjamin Parsons
Photography by Clive Boursnell
