Tag Archives: Chris McDonnell

Love All

Love All


Jermyn Street Theatre

LOVE ALL at Jermyn Street Theatre



Love All

“It’s a bold and brassy play that challenges convention, an idea eagerly and rather lovingly picked up by this slick and charming production”


Hear that a play is a Comedy of Manners and you will probably think of the waspish satires of the Reformation, or Oscar Wilde or Noël Coward classics, ripe with artificial plots and witty social commentary.

It is less likely that your mind will race to a work with a distinctly contemporary twist by one of the greatest crime writers of the Golden Age which features a character who may well be based on the writer herself.

The intriguing “Love All” by Dorothy L. Sayers was not a commercial success when it first opened in 1940 with its theme of choosing career or family and the sacrifices women are expected to make and has barely been seen on stage in 80 years.

It’s not hard to see why Jermyn Street Theatre thought it worth reviving the piece with its strong female characters and its tendency to be dismissive of romance in its current Temptation Season. What begins as a familiar and droll drawing room comedy, blossoms into a fun and feisty (one might even say feminist had Sayers herself not so disliked the term) period comedy that never once seems stale or dated.

It’s a bold and brassy play that challenges convention, an idea eagerly and rather lovingly picked up by this slick and charming production. In it a young actress besotted with a romance novelist runs off to Venice with him as he tries to pen his next bestseller about a repentant husband; but his wife, now a successful London playwright, refuses to divorce him. When the young actress hears of an exciting new playwright storming the stage back home, she knows she just has to be in her next hit – even though unaware of her true identity.

Unlike Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey whodunit “Gaudy Night,” in which women are merely tolerated by their male university peers, “Love All” confidently thrusts every one of its female characters into a position of commanding strength and it’s the male characters who come off the worst. The mistress notes that, “Every great man has had a woman behind him,” but the wife responds, “Every great woman has had some man or other in front of her, tripping her up.”

Emily Barber quickly lifts mistress Lydia to a level well beyond the dreamy inamorata unable to cope with her lover’s indecision. If the script itself ever allowed the character to be dreary Barber rapidly brushes it aside in a performance which relishes the fiery role of a good actress unwilling to accept the status quo.

Leah Whitaker, no stranger to the venue, is stupendous in turn as Janet (the nom de plume of Edith), the bored wife unwilling to be stifled by custom or etiquette, least of all by a patronising and colourless man. It’s a character very like Sayers’ fictional detective Harriet Vane, who in turn bore similarities to the author herself, and Whitaker ensures she is likeable and assertive without becoming bossily domineering.

The pair play off each other brilliantly as they grow to understand each other and realise their own happiness is far more important than life with languid chauvinist Godfrey (an assured performance from Alan Cox as the narrow-minded, callous dinosaur who fails to recognise the abilities and humanity of those around him) as they prowl around like lionesses stalking their unfortunate prey.

Karen Ascoe is wonderful in two roles: Judith, the friend in Venice, with the most dazzling array of facial expressions and pauses which speak volumes, and then Stella, the no-nonsense secretary in London.

Bethan Cullinane’s Mary is a careful study of loyalty and devotion, steering through layers of awkwardness and it’s a relief the play avoids what appears to be a predictable ending for a character who has her own strength.

Daniel Burke as actor Michael and Jim Findley as Henry fall into the category here of men who fare badly at the hands of a writer wanting to explore the liberation of women in professional and domestic life, but they do well to ensure their parts are three-dimensional and enjoyable.

The set is an extraordinary work of art by Louie Whitemore, transforming almost miraculously between Acts One and Two in such a small space from a Venetian apartment complete with giant Canaletto on the wall to a London drawing room used by Janet as her office – as a voiceover tells us during the interval, switching from the Grand Canal of Venice to the Grand Junction Canal in London.

For Sayers’ fans there’s even a play poster on the wall for Janet’s hit “Mare’s Nest” with the actors’ names all being characters from her novels or real life relationships. Not that there are many quiet moments to play that Who’s Who? Game but it’s a clever design nod.

“Love All” represents a sad but triumphant farewell to director Tom Littler who, as Artistic Director of Jermyn Street Theatre, has turned this hidden gem in Piccadilly into something sparkling, a powerhouse venue to be taken seriously. For his final (18th) production here he has created something to remember and savour before heading off to the Orange Tree in Richmond in October.

Defying all expectations of clichéd creakiness, Jermyn Street Theatre delivers a sparky revival of this surprisingly overlooked play in a manner as uncompromising as its writer, adding a welcome touch of Piccadilly panache.



Reviewed on 13th September 2022

by David Guest

Photography by Steve Gregson






Previously reviewed at this venue:


This Beautiful Future | ★★★ | August 2021
Footfalls and Rockaby | ★★★★★ | November 2021
The Tempest | ★★★ | November 2021
Orlando | ★★★★ | May 2022
Cancelling Socrates | ★★★★ | June 2022


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Til Death Do Us Part

Til Death Do Us Part



Til Death Do Us Part

Til Death Do Us Part


Reviewed – 10th May 2022



“a quite remarkable feat of theatre making all round”


If you could go back in time, what would you do? What would you change?

It is an over familiar and well-worn question. The subject of many late-night rambling discussions, and a theme in many more dramas on stage and on screen. So, another play in which the characters frequently ask one another the question suggests a claggy hour and a half of yawn stifling.

[Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”391″ gal_title=”Till Death do us Part”]

But don’t be fooled. Safaa Benson-Effiom’s debut full-length play approaches the question in a wonderfully fresh and deeply harrowing way. Partly because, although a leitmotif, it is secondary to the narrative; unanswered and pushed into a corner by the distressing circumstances and events that spearhead the action. “Til Death Do Us Part” is essentially a drama about love and relationships and what happens when they fracture. We don’t always have the language to express the pain and grief that is felt.

After fifteen years of marriage, Daniel (Richard Holt) and Sylvia (Danielle Kassaraté) find themselves simultaneously drifting apart and trapped together. They are a fairly normal couple, with fairly normal lives and a teenage son (Jude Chinchen) from whom they think the darker undercurrents of their marriage are hidden. When faced with their worst nightmare the couple are forced to confront the years of unspoken resentment. Unarmed, except for the rapier-like honesty which cuts to the surface, they fight their common demons alone.

Benson-Effiom plays with time. We are, at once, in the present and the past but the text yields no confusion under Justina Kehinde’s extremely slick direction that creates a world where memories and ghosts are one and the same. Tom Foskett-Barnes’ ominously evocative sound design lends touches of the supernatural, although we are still firmly rooted in reality. It is a quite remarkable feat of theatre making all round.

But at the forefront are the performances. Holt and Kassaraté dress their characters in more layers than you can count. Both of them unpredictable, they seize the danger inherent in Benson-Effiom’s writing. The portrayal of their heartache, loss, failure, regrets and fears are as blistering as the sparks that fly between them. Chinchen’s Andrew is equally mesmerising as the schoolboy, all smiles and effervescence concealing invisible cracks, playing his parents off each other right through to the tragic climax. In a novel twist the climax precedes the build-up, which paradoxically intensifies each.

The exploration of grief and blame is profound but not heavy handed. A short line of dialogue is enough to convey a decade of emotion. We live in a society where platitudes abound that try to make sense of the chaos that extreme loss wreaks. This insightful production makes them flesh. A riveting, must-see ninety minutes of theatre. If you can see beyond the trigger warnings, Safaa Benson-Effiom is a name to look out for.


Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Steve Gregson


Til Death Do Us Part

Theatre503 until 21st May


Previously reviewed this year by Jonathan:
Freud’s Last Session | ★★★★ | King’s Head Theatre | January 2022
A Level Playing Field | ★★★★ | Riverside Studios | February 2022
An Evening Without Kate Bush | ★★★★ | Soho Theatre | February 2022
Steve | ★★★★ | Seven Dials Playhouse | February 2022
The Devil’s in the Chair | ★★★★ | Riverside Studios | February 2022
Us | ★★★★ | White Bear Theatre | February 2022
The Straw Chair | ★★★ | Finborough Theatre | April 2022
The Silent Woman | ★★★★ | White Bear Theatre | April 2022
The End of the Night | ★★ | Park Theatre | May 2022
Orlando | ★★★★ | Jermyn Street Theatre | May 2022
The Man Behind the Mask | ★★★★ | Churchill Theatre | May 2022


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