SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

★★★★

“A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft”

There are some stories that shock because of their subject matter and some that are disturbing due to the knowledge that they are true. Claudio Macor’s one-act play, “Savage”, has both of those qualities. And more. One minute we feel as though we are in a horror fantasy spoof (the psychotic doctor injecting monkey testosterone into an innocent victim’s testicles), the next we are watching a searingly tender love story.

There are further layers added – some explored with deeper insight than others – as we are transported back to 1940s Denmark during the Nazi German occupation. Macor takes us beyond the stolen kisses in darkened doorways into what was really going on behind those doors. And although a screen shields the operating table, we can clearly see the vicious cogs that powered this savage regime. Danish born Nikolai Bergsen (Kerill Kelly) and American Zack Travis (Matthew Hartley) meet at the notorious Corner Light Club in Copenhagen, a place under constant watch by the Schutzstaffel (Hitler’s paramilitary police) for evidence of the “disease” of homosexuality. Late one night, Nikolai is picked up, beaten up and dragged into Nazi sympathiser Dr Vaernet’s surgery for the so-called corrective treatment that will cure him of his ‘sickness’. It is a Kafkaesque scenario that beggars belief – the temptation to storm the stage and intervene is strong, such is the authenticity of the performances.

Both Kelly and Hartley capture the mix of passion and danger inherent in their love affair with enough realism to suggest that it might not survive the forces that oppose it. Mark Kitto’s Dr Vaernet cuts a gruesomely sadistic figure made more horrific by his detached coolness and willingness to kowtow to the SS. His assistant nurse, Ilse (played with a potent stillness by Claire-Monique Martin), is all subservience on the outside, but inside the fire of resistance burns passionately below the skin. Meanwhile Tom Everatt is the symbol of oppression in the form of Obergruppenführer General Heinrich von Aeschelman – a nasty piece of work. Reflecting Macor’s writing, Everatt’s performance borders on comedy, strengthening the cynical, satirical parody that is warranted.

There are dark secrets – that I won’t spoil for you. Jonathon Nielsen-Keen is a striking presence as drag cabaret artist Georg Jensen, who rises above victimhood to expose the hypocrisy and deadly double standards of the authorities. Rounding off the impressive ensemble is Simon Chappell’s Major Hemingway whose late appearance in the story in no way undermines his importance.

Macor beautifully marries the tenderness with the savagery, and the skill of the writing is in the detail. Callous asides speak volumes. “The cure will make more space for the Jews” is the appallingly sickening justification for the rush to free up the camps. Lines like these are simultaneously easy yet impossible to miss in the dialogue that is finely researched. Last staged in London ten years ago, Macor has shortened his script into a finely honed drama, condensing the action into one act. It is an important and frightening piece of history that, in this team’s hands, doesn’t come across as a documentary. Director Robert McWhir’s simple staging allows the emotion to shine without overshadowing the brutal reality of the events. Aaron Clingham’s music provides an authentic sense of the period while Richard Lambert’s minimal lighting enhances the stark atmosphere – although the use of two small, flat-screen monitors to pinpoint the various settings is unnecessary, and anachronistically out of place.

Perhaps a little too much pruning has taken place. There are times when we feel the characters could be explored even further. But on balance, Macor has pretty much hit the spot. A succinct epilogue reminds us of the cold fact that this is a true story. A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft. Heart-breaking and savage, it would be a crime to overlook.

SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

Reviewed on 27th February 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Savage

★★

“A more undiluted approach would undoubtedly give a much sharper taste of the man and his muse”

“Muse” is a new play based on the life of surrealist photographer Dora Marr and her relationship with Pablo Picasso. Given just a sixty-minute slot as part of the Camden Fringe it cannot hope to be much more than a snapshot of this fascinating and turbulent liaison. Their relationship lasted nearly nine years, during which Picasso held onto his other mistresses; in particular Marie-Thérèse Walter, the mother of his daughter Maya. Picasso was a complicated and multi-layered character whose wives and lovers were absolutely integral to his career; they were very much the subjects that inspired him, and while history neither condones nor condemns his sometimes abusive conduct, it relishes exploring the relationship between the artist and his muse.

Antonia Georgieva’s play follows a long line of dramas that focuses on this theme. But rather than focus on its subjects the lens swoops chaotically, trying to catch a wider angle and cram in too many other personalities. Surrealist poet Paul Éluard and his wife Nusch make cameo appearances, Man Ray gets a mention; the writer Lise Deharne and art critic Françoise Gilot are caught off camera. The result is a blurred portrait that, instead of enticing us to unravel the confusion, is not particularly interesting to look at.

By her own admission, Georgieva, who also directs, has opted for an abstract, fragmented telling of the story. The cast, whilst appearing not to know fully what that story is, give committed performances. Sarah Kentish’s Marie-Thérèse Walter stands out with her mix of jealousy towards and superiority over Dora Marr, neatly combining the desire to fight with a weary resignation. But Jahmai Maasai lacks the presence and bullish charisma to portray Picasso. Whether he is trying to reveal the softer side of Pablo is unclear, but you never get a true sense of one of art’s most famous womanisers. He appears weak, especially in the famous episode where, having been confronted by Walter and Marr to choose between them, he tells them to fight it out for themselves.

The peripheral characters are somewhat superfluous, and hugely underwritten. Georgieva gives Claire-Monique Martin’s spirited Nusch Eluard too fleeting an appearance (Nusch is a character who deserves a play to herself) and the others are cruelly relegated to the side-lines.

Pablo Picasso had complicated relationships with many of the women in his life. He either revered them or abused them (famously quoted as saying that “there are only two kinds of women, goddesses or doormats”). He was married twice and had multiple mistresses, often simultaneously, and it can be argued that his sexuality fuelled his art. “Muse” is a generalised account of this fact that gives short shrift to his muses. Blink and you miss a couple of them. A more undiluted approach would undoubtedly give a much sharper taste of the man and his muse.

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Timna Lugstein

Tag Archives: Claire-Monique Martin

SAVAGE

★★★★

White Bear Theatre

SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

★★★★

“A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft”