★★★½

“Power’s writing is ambitious and lyrical”

In Death Belles, four women open the door to their most harrowing memories – and what steps through is grief, guilt, and a lingering sense of menace. Over 60 minutes, writer Annie Power and director Penny Gkritzapi weave a quartet of dark tales that transform the Old Red Lion’s intimate, minimal stage (set design Constance Comparot) – scattered with rose petals – into a confessional of pain and consequence. Each story explores how trauma can twist the human spirit. The writing asks not only what suffering does to us, but what we might do in return. “How far can a person go when they’ve already been broken?” seems to echo through the piece.

We begin with Poppy (Niamh O’Donnell), who relives the catastrophic Storm Bella and the loss of her parents. Her monologue is vivid and unflinching, filled with contrasting images of the beauty of the Highlands turned graveyard. Beneath the tragedy, it brushes against questions of climate anxiety and the loneliness of survival.

Detective Rose (Harriet Main) follows, trapped in memories of brutal child murders that have left her morally unmoored. The images bleed into her own experience, equally haunting. A missing heart from a murder becomes a metaphor for the missing empathy of a society that fails its children. Her performance, at once precise and unnerving, captures how innocence and evil can share the same face. It’s a chilling portrait of a woman weighed down not only by the horrors her profession demands she witness, but also by the personal guilt that haunts her own past.

Lily (George Bird) brings a welcome change of pace. A football-mad sixteen-year-old with ADHD, she wins over the audience with her humour and restless charm before her story takes a devastating turn. The shift from laughter to disbelief is masterfully handled, and her performance gives the production its most affecting emotional depth.

Finally comes Bella (Finella Waddilove), a mother still searching for her vanished child. Her grief infects the whole village, revealing prejudice and fear simmering beneath polite surfaces. Told with audience engagement, her story resembles a murder-mystery dinner you never expected to be invited to – unsettling, intimate, and quietly accusatory.

The show thrives on atmosphere – the interplay of light and shadow builds visual narratives that deepen the piece, while the rhythm of its language and the physical immediacy of its performers draw the audience directly into the story. Yet the emotional intensity can become relentless. Without moments of reprieve, the production risks overwhelming the audience rather than drawing them deeper in. Lily’s story succeeds precisely because it balances darkness with humanity.

Power’s writing is ambitious and lyrical, and Gkritzapi’s direction embraces its intimacy. The ensemble delivers committed performances that feel raw and lived-in. Still, the evening would benefit from more variation in tone – a chance for the audience to breathe between the storms.

Death Belles is not an easy watch, nor does it intend to be. It’s a meditation on loss, memory, and the quiet violence of carrying what cannot be forgotten. It doesn’t just tell four stories of pain; it reminds us that confession itself can be an act of survival. A demanding but compelling night of theatre that leaves you both unsettled and impressed – even if you occasionally wish it let a little more light in.

HIDE AND SEEK at the Park Theatre

★★★★

“a real testament to exciting new writing, a brilliantly well-constructed meditation on fantasy and reality”

Tobia Rossi’s tale of teenage exploration and alienation is a great new take on attraction across the divide. There are shades of Holden Caulfield in Louis Scarpa’s Gio, an awkward teenage theorist, whereas Nico Cetrulo’s Mirko is the polar opposite; popular, and growing into his own power. This is no Heartstopper-esque wholesome teenage love story and all the better for it.

The two boys are contemporaries at the same school, though definitely not friends. Mirko stumbles upon Gio, who is hiding in a cave in remote woods, kilometres from their Italian village where nothing exciting happens. Gio is inexpertly living like a hermit after having run away and cut himself off from the world, his last message a cryptic online post. Mirko is thrilled at his discovery, informing Gio of his infamy in the outside world. Gio pleads for Mirko to keep his hiding place secret, persuading him of the discontentment he experiences in the outside world. Mirko resolves to help him, and becomes an enabler, bringing Gio sustenance and companionship over their visits. As they become close, their talk turns to their fantasies, and they explore their sexualities, initially under the guise of helping Mirko ‘practice’ for girls.

Their conversations often revolve around local stories and gossip that have dogged Gio since he was small, resulting in him being a target for school bullies. These are slowly uncovered, and often play at the boundaries of innocence and darkness. Misinterpretation is also a major theme, sometimes willfully prompted as Gio’s cover up becomes ever more elaborate. This contrasts with Gio’s obsession with authenticity; there are delicious tensions between this and the construction of falsehoods that suit both characters.

Both Rossi’s story and Carlotta Brentan’s translation and direction have ensured the script is full of interesting circularity, really mining the most out of these ideas, with believably unsympathetic characters at the core. I particularly enjoyed the juxtaposition of Mirko’s self-help pseudo-intellectualism against Gio’s misguided teenage logic. Rossi doesn’t insist on pointing out the flaws, and allows them to find dark common ground. The action builds to a climax that feels inevitable thanks to artful signposting, but is not lacking in emotional and visceral heft.

Louis Scarpa is all awkward sleeve pulling as Gio, which plays well into a central motif surrounding hands. He also nails down a mysterious and otherworldly air to Gio, which foreshadows the final monologue perfectly. When he gets into a flow on his special interests, his wide-eyed energy is infectious, and matched by Nico Cetrulo as Mirko. Cetrulo is able to strike the right balance between Nico’s outward confidence, and the inexperience he is acutely aware of. Their relationship feels appropriately accidental, never straying far from the shame that engulfs Mirko.

The set (Constance Comparot) evokes Gio’s stinking cave well, with concrete and stone blocks getting strewn with rubbish and tinned supplies throughout the piece. Alex Forey cleverly uses a combination of side lights and the torch on a phone to evoke dinginess, and allows the actors to play in the shadows before revealing themselves. Later, pulsating LED lights (brought by Mirko) subtly tell the passage of time, and are a backdrop to Gio’s reclusive and confused existence. This is again emphasised by Mirko’s costume changes (Alessandro Milzoni) between scenes which contrast with Gio remaining in the same filthy hoody.

This is a fantastic production that has journeyed from Italy via New York and the Vault Festival in 2023. It is a real testament to exciting new writing, a brilliantly well-constructed meditation on fantasy and reality, truth and untruths, authenticity and facades with two enticing performances at its heart

DEATH BELLES

Old Red Lion Theatre

★★★½

“Power’s writing is ambitious and lyrical”

DEATH BELLES

Old Red Lion Theatre

Reviewed on 21st October 2025

by Nasia Ntalla

Photography by Dexter Robinson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DEATH BELLES

DEATH BELLES

DEATH BELLES

HIDE AND SEEK at the Park Theatre

★★★★

“a real testament to exciting new writing, a brilliantly well-constructed meditation on fantasy and reality”

HIDE AND SEEK at the Park Theatre

Reviewed on 14th March 2024

by Rosie Thomas

Photography by Mariano Gobbi

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HIDE AND SEEK

HIDE AND SEEK

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