★★★★

“Sometimes quirky, often heartbreaking, but invariably mesmerising”

‘Your future self is watching you right now through your memories’. The quotation, which has wormed its way into meme status on social media, can be traced back to biomedical scientist Aubrey de Grey, but any free thinker could probably come up with a similar truism. But it does make you think – and, as a concept, it forms the backbone of Anna Jordan’s two hander “Lost Atoms”. Jordan takes it a step further and has these future memories interrupting the present and correcting where necessary. The play sets out to show how a couple’s perspective of their relationship can alter over time thanks to the conflicting memories of each character. The effect is a slightly unnerving, quite brilliant and riveting watch.

The couple is Jess (Hannah Sinclair Robinson) and Robbie (Joe Layton). The microscopic lens through which we witness their story is echoed by Andrzej Goulding’s striking set comprising a towering wall of filing cabinets, which plays with our perception of space as much as the narrative plays with time. Many times, we feel as though we are looking down from above as the back wall becomes the floor. Director Scott Graham has Sinclair Robinson and Layton crawl across the banks of drawers that slide in and out, defying gravity with ease. This is true ‘Frantic Assembly’ at its finest.

Step away from the main concept and its stylised representation, and what you have is a fairly conventional love story, albeit one with unexpectedly sad twists. The two performances are outstanding. There is an instant connection between Sinclair Robinson and Layton, further welded by a smouldering chemistry. The dialogue is easy going and often humorous until, of course, things go wrong. The second act finds us in darker territory – audible gasps can sometimes be heard from the auditorium. It seems that no stone is left unturned, as we draw closer to the love story’s conclusion, unearthing original thoughts on the themes of grief, loss, pregnancy, marriage, fidelity, aging. Other characters are skilfully introduced and made real through the silent gaps of one-sided conversations. Jess and Robbie are the only ones speaking but we can clearly hear the whole conversation in our heads.

But some of the strongest moments are the wordless ones, when the couple’s natural intimacy progresses to deep sensuality during moments of abstract choreography. With Simisolar Majekodunmi’s stark and shadowy lighting and Julie Blake’s atmospheric music, the actors again pay no attention to gravity. A bed unfolds like a drawbridge at an impossibly steep angle while the actors move with the vertiginous ease of geckos. The cabinet drawers contain not just props and costumes, but metaphors that are pulled out at pivotal moments to enhance the narrative flow.

Eventually talk turns to hopes for the future, which in turn blur into the couple’s memories. It seems that their dreams are as untrustworthy and insubstantial as their memories. Our memories often betray us, we are being told. “Fairy tales are bullshit” Jess exclaims. Jordan has given us a haunting perspective of a relationship’s arc. The only real flaw is that it does stretch it out somewhat, making for quite a long play, and a couple of scenes are difficult to follow acoustically – never mind the atoms; occasionally the actors’ words are lost in the soft-spoken moments of truth. Yet it is beautifully poetic and insightful. Messy at times. Sometimes quirky, often heartbreaking, but invariably mesmerising. Memory might be unreliable, but “Lost Atoms” is unforgettable.

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE at the Queen’s Theatre

★★★

“pertinent and important, and a visually strong reimagining of an iconic and powerful story”

When Hanif Kureishi’s romantic comedy-drama film was released in 1985 it was swiftly hailed as being a mirror to society at the time, casting a sharp eye on London life in the height of the Thatcher years. It almost had too much to say, but the central focus – of the romance between Omar, a young Pakistani living in London, and street punk, neo-fascist Johnny – still managed to shine through. Kureishi’s adaptation for the stage holds onto that perspective while simplifying the surrounding complexities of race, class, and economic and social upheaval that defined the era.

We are definitely in 80s territory, with bursts of the Pet Shop Boys music linking the scenes, and misogyny and racism vying for supremacy against the cold, concrete backdrop of Grace Smart’s inspired set. The burgeoning romance from across the divide is echoed by Ben Cracknell’s lighting, throwing neon splashes of colour and hope against the bleak reality. This is a dog-eat-dog world in which a modern day, same-sex ‘Romeo and Juliet’ attempt to defy the odds.

Omar (Lucca Chadwick-Patel) is a young British-Pakistani saddled with an alcoholic, disillusioned father (Gordon Warnecke) until brash, ‘loadsamoney’ Uncle Nasser (Kammy Darweish) sets him to work managing his run-down laundrette. In a scuffle with a group of National Front lads, Omar spots old school chum Johnny (Sam Mitchell) who is adrift and hopelessly uncommitted to his Fascist tendencies. They join forces to add the eponymous adjective to the laundrette. The means are dubious, illegal and overflowing with compromise, yet amidst the subterfuge a passionate romance blossoms.

Despite Kureishi’s rich command of dialogue and monologue, Nicole Behan’s production removes a lot of the plausibility. And despite a strong cast, the collective performance removes most of the poignancy. An overall hesitancy to the acting dampens the dynamics and often strips the lines of feeling. There are exceptions, however, particularly in the second act, when Chadwick-Patel and Mitchell grab their chance to let their talents flicker as Omar confronts Johnny about his fascist past. A beautiful moment that concentrates the pathos, but we wish it could be more evenly distributed throughout the whole play.

Likewise, the inherent comedy is hovering in the wings, not quite brave enough to step onto the stage and announce itself in all its justified glory. As a result, the contrasting danger that underscores the narrative is weakened and it is sometimes difficult to differentiate the two. Johnny’s National Front sidekicks, while intentionally ridiculous, come across as boyish caricatures.

The play depicts an era, but sadly some of the issues are still with us, albeit in different forms in our age of social media. The production captures the essence of its time while still managing to feel contemporary. And the finale is uplifting, with a feel-good factor that pre-empts the progress society has made over the last four decades. That we still have some way to go is skilfully brought out in this production. However it can be argued that the show, too, has still some way to go to fulfil its promise.

It is pertinent and important, and a visually strong reimagining of an iconic and powerful story. The production values are high, but ultimately the stakes are low.

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LOST ATOMS

★★★★

Lyric Hammersmith

LOST ATOMS

Lyric Hammersmith

★★★★

“Sometimes quirky, often heartbreaking, but invariably mesmerising”

LOST ATOMS

Lyric Hammersmith

Reviewed on 3rd February 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Tristram Kenton

LOST ATOMS

LOST ATOMS

LOST ATOMS

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE

★★★

Queen’s Theatre

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE at the Queen’s Theatre

★★★

“pertinent and important, and a visually strong reimagining of an iconic and powerful story”