KINDLING

Park Theatre

★★½

“sets up an interesting space for boundaries to be transgressed”

Five perimenopausal women trek into the Welsh woods to scatter the ashes of their mutual friend Mei, an all-too-young victim of cervical cancer. Each knows her from a different stage in her life – there’s a friend from nursery, one from university, from work, from her children’s school, and her sister-in-law. They are as different from each other as the contexts in which they met Mei, but predictably come together in the night of camping and carousing that makes up most of director Emma Gersch’s ‘Kindling’. Equal parts chaotic and joyful, this play fails to live up to its promising premise.

A thick layer of leaves and a few saplings fill the stage, with a large photograph of an autumnal forest as its backdrop. Abi Groves’ set is effective while not exactly imaginative, though it comes alive as the disjointed group of women flood the scene with their belongings – bags of distinctly varying types, a camping chair, string lights, a single tent, the all-important urn perched on a tree stump. The stage feels rather full, though this is not down to the set so much as the almost constant clumsiness that inexplicably plagues the characters that inhabit it, who are always stomping about, sighing, and fussing with wine glasses and blankets and maps.

Dissimilar as they are, the characters are all restless, big personalities, each based on time-honoured archetypes: vegetarian hippie Cathy (played by a particularly funny Scarlett Alice Johnson), savvy lesbian Jules (Stacy Abalogun), perfect housewife Jasmin (Rendah Beshoori), posh party girl Sue (Ciara Pouncett), and frazzled mum Rose (Sarah Rickman). Refreshingly, and true to the ethos of Ladybird Productions at large, we meet these women at a somewhat later age than we have encountered them before, but they are familiar faces nevertheless. The actors have good chemistry, but why the late Mei ever thought that sending these characters on a commemorative trip together would turn them into friends remains a mystery, as (despite what the plot tells us) they fail to genuinely connect in spite of their obvious differences.

One issue that contributes to this is the aforementioned restlessness that runs through the play, and finds its source in Sarah Rickman’s script. Not only are there almost constantly five women on stage at the same time, who rarely actually sit down to have a chat altogether, there is also a flurry of things happening: there’s a big thunderstorm, Rose almost chokes to death and later finds her dog in the woods, Jasmin gets shat on by a bird and accidentally kills it, and Mei’s ashes end up in someone’s hair and then everyone’s coffee, among other things. Kindling bundles all the worst camping horror stories you’ve ever heard into an hour and a half and, as such, becomes frustratingly one-note, with little room for the different emotions grief conjures. Additionally, many of the play’s jokes feel disconnected from its subject matter and some of the dialogue borders on cliché (‘But my nails!’, Jasmin exclaims, and ‘You know what, I’ve not laughed like this in ages’, says Jules).

That being said, the second act was much more streamlined than the first. The group’s conclusion that Mei was perhaps a bit of a narcissist was an interesting twist, though I wished that this realisation had dawned upon her friends more gradually and naturally than it did, and that the potential consequences of this insight had been made to feel more urgent.

In taking the bizarre premise of an ash-scattering, rowdy camping trip, Kindling sets up an interesting space for boundaries to be transgressed, unlikely friendships to be forged, and breakthroughs to be had. But unfortunately, its potential gets lost in the chaos.

KINDLING

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 27th October 2025

by Lola Stakenburg

Photography by Holly Darville

KINDLING

Fit for Work

Chapel Playhouse

Reviewed – 24th August 2019

★★

“whilst one can’t really ask for enjoyment from a story like this, there does need to be a glimmer of hope, or at least a moment’s hiatus from desolation”

Five months ago, Terry Lawson (Jasey Ó Dálaigh) suffered a stroke, and since then his health has continued to deteriorate. Mrs Smith (Ciara Pouncett), a healthcare professional, is tasked with deciding if Terry is eligible for ESA (Employment and Support Allowance) or whether he is in fact capable of working.

The hour-long show consists of an interrogation regarding Terry’s physical and mental health. At first we’re uncertain if Mrs Smith is a sympathetic ear, but as the play goes on she grows steadily more passive aggressive, barely bothering to disguise her eye rolls as Terry explains his inability to walk more than 100 metres, and his growing depression and anxiety.

The consequences of continued austerity are of course an incredibly important issue, and writer and director Louise Powell’s ‘Fit For Work’ certainly rings true in the manner in which Terry is treated as suspect from the get-go; being asked completely inappropriate questions about his failed suicide attempt (a tactic that was reported in 2017), and made to present and detail his illness time and again.

But to have an onslaught of misery and misfortune for a full hour is a lot. There is literally no relief; no small joke, or moment of remembered kindness or love. We don’t even really get to know Terry besides his ailments. The entire content of the show is watching utter despair consistently being met with deep cynicism. There’s no real plot, just a chipping away at what is already a very small reserve of hope.

Whilst it might be an accurate rendering, and both Dálaigh and Pouncett fulfil their roles effectively, much as someone yelling for an hour loses their potency, having someone being completely miserable or completely passive aggressive for so long wears away its effectiveness.

The staging is an appropriately simple doctor’s office, with a couple of family photos and a framed child’s drawing atop the desk to remind us that even though Mrs Smith seems completely heartless, she is a human being who thinks of herself as a good person, which makes her behaviour all the more concerning.

There are a couple of sound cues meant to convey (I think) what Mrs Smith is typing in her notes: the first happens so quickly I’m uncertain exactly what was said. The second is cut short. And after both cues the sound system is left on for a good while, hissing white noise. I don’t feel anything was lost by my not hearing these so perhaps the show could do without.

Both the situation and dialogue of ‘Fit For Work’ are believable enough, but whilst one can’t really ask for enjoyment from a story like this, there does need to be a glimmer of hope, or at least a moment’s hiatus from desolation, just to give the audience a short respite, even if it’s immediately followed by an even darker reality.

KINDLING

Park Theatre

★★½

“sets up an interesting space for boundaries to be transgressed”

KINDLING

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 27th October 2025

by Lola Stakenburg

Photography by Holly Darville

Previously reviewed at this venue:

KINDLING

KINDLING

KINDLING

Chapel Playhouse

Reviewed – 24th August 2019

★★

“whilst one can’t really ask for enjoyment from a story like this, there does need to be a glimmer of hope, or at least a moment’s hiatus from desolation”

Whilst it might be an accurate rendering, and both Dálaigh and Pouncett fulfil their roles effectively, much as someone yelling for an hour loses their potency, having someone being completely miserable or completely passive aggressive for so long wears away its effectiveness.

Reviewed by Miriam Sallon

Image courtesy Wellcome Collection

Fit for Work

Chapel Playhouse until 25th August as part of Camden Fringe 2019

Previously reviewed at this venue:

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