Tag Archives: Dan Light

DEEPFAKE

★★★★★

Sadler’s Wells East

DEEPFAKE

Sadler’s Wells East

★★★★★

“thrilling, meticulously choreographed theatre”

“Recollections may vary.” The phrase returns at the beginning of DEEPFAKE, gradually fractured and restructured. It sounds like a disclaimer, but also a warning: if memory can shift and testimony can be reconstructed, what makes an image any more trustworthy? Co-commissioned by Sadler’s Wells Theatre and DanceEast, and created and directed by Jessica Wright and Morgann Runacre-Temple, the production builds a political thriller around an increasingly uncomfortable television interview.

The stage is strikingly minimal. Green surrounds the playing space in Milla Clarke’s set, immediately establishing it as a site of fabrication rather than a completed fictional world. Once the live camera and Dan Light’s video design enter the equation, that emptiness is transformed. Rebecca Bassett-Graham’s cool-headed journalist Katie Fielding steadily corners Kennedy Muntanga’s Prime Minister as he attempts to explain a mysterious disappearance from Buckingham Palace. Muntanga moves between polished confidence and physical unease with impressive control, while Bassett-Graham gives the interview a precise, increasingly adversarial tension.

The use of live camera on stage is hardly new. What makes the work distinctive is how completely its technology is bound to its dramaturgy. As the Prime Minister reconstructs the missing twenty-four minutes, his live body exists alongside competing screen versions of the past. Recorded bodies appear beside present ones; dancers and digital avatars connect with remarkable precision. Memory becomes less a stable event than material available for editing. At its most visually overwhelming, performers move through six screen-like panels until it becomes difficult to identify where the live body ends and projection begins. Here, technology does not simply illustrate uncertainty; it makes uncertainty physically felt.

This is where the choreography becomes particularly compelling. A theatre audience normally performs its own continuous edit: we decide where to look, whether to focus on a gesture or the entire stage picture. A camera makes those decisions for us. Jess & Morgs place both systems of spectatorship in front of us simultaneously. The camera becomes not simply a witness to choreography, but a choreographic force in its own right. The gimbal operator and green-screen performers remain visible, so even the labour of constructing the illusion becomes part of the choreography. At rare moments, the sheer virtuosity of the screen work risks competing with the emotional stakes of the interview, though the performers quickly pull our attention back.

Jeff James’ writing and dramaturgy keep the production grounded. Political satire, interrogation and absurdity sit alongside one another without collapsing into simple comedy. Voiceover further separates body from statement, so that what we hear, what we see and who appears to be speaking no longer perfectly align. The dancers sustain this instability with exacting physical control, while the central performances prevent the technological apparatus from becoming an end in itself.

The production does not need to tell us that images can lie. Its more unsettling question is how an image comes to feel true in the first place. Its technology is not decoration; it is dramaturgy. By the end, the issue is no longer simply whether a politician is telling the truth, but where spectators are supposed to locate truth at all. Jess & Morgs turn the instability of the image into thrilling, meticulously choreographed theatre.



DEEPFAKE

Sadler’s Wells East

Reviewed on 1st October 2026

by Portia Yuran Li

Photography by Foteini Christofilopoulou

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEEPFAKE

DEEPFAKE

DEEPFAKE

AN INTERROGATION

★★★★

Hampstead Theatre

AN INTERROGATION

Hampstead Theatre

★★★★

“The three-strong cast is uniformly compelling”

Debuting his play in Edinburgh in 2023, writer director Jamie Armitage had to deliver this police interrogation drama in a tight 59 minutes. At the Hampstead Theatre, he uses the extra 10 minutes to great effect, packing his bonus time with an odd twitch, an extended silence or an implacable blank expression denoting nothing – not guilt or innocence.

It is these small touches – like a dab of white that brings alive a painted eye – that add so much to this exquisitely polished gem.

The set-up is familiar from a thousand cop shows: a nervous female detective is convinced of the guilt of an amiable and upstanding citizen, and she has to break down his faultless veneer against the clock. This kindly gent has given up his Sunday to amble his way towards a discussion about the unseemly business of two women, one killed a while ago and another missing.

He must answer for some strange coincidences in his tale but he’s happy to do so. Why not? He’s an establishment CEO, head of a brain injury charity, pillar of the community, knows people in Government. He has alibis up to here.

No, there’s absolutely nothing remotely guilty about middle aged, middle class Cameron Andrews. But fidgety DC Ruth Palmer has a hunch.

How will she set about the task? To what extent will she succumb to or exploit these inherent power dynamics?

And so we begin, the clock counting down in the hunt for the missing woman. Not so much cat-and-mouse as cat-and-another-cat, this one licking its self-satisfied whiskers, too clever by half and not likely to be undone by a brittle young woman.

The set is simple yet evocative. Plastic chairs, plain table. Water cooler. Yellow office lighting draining colour from already pallid skin. You can practically smell the stale sweat and cold coffee.

It’s a pin drop experience as we lean in to pick up on every inflection, and squint to analyse every tell and posture. The live-stream screen on the back wall is both a help and hindrance in this regard. Yes, it draws attention to the telling gestures for the people at the back, but the sudden close-ups also signal when A Big Moment is looming, which is clumsy in such a subtle piece.

The three-strong cast is uniformly compelling. Colm Gormley as John Culin, the mentor detective, plays his cards close to his chest. Does he have Palmer’s back, or is he playing another game entirely?

Rosie Sheehy and Jamie Ballard as Palmer and Andrews are flawless. Their softly-spoken interchanges are so light, yet so freighted. There’s not much action but they seem to morph throughout as if the mind games were physical. They reel, deflate, rise, go again. But only ever minutely.

In set-up and purpose, An Interrogation draws on influences from Silence of the Lambs to Line of Duty. So it’s tempting to play interrogation cliche bingo – her slip, his slip, the accusation, the big gamble etc.

But this absorbing play is too disciplined to oversell those moments. It is all quietly brilliant.

Good job this tense little duel lasted only about an hour. I finally got to exhale.



AN INTERROGATION

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 23rd January 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 


 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

KING JAMES | ★★★★ | November 2024
VISIT FROM AN UNKNOWN WOMAN | ★★ | July 2024
THE DIVINE MRS S | ★★★★ | March 2024
DOUBLE FEATURE | ★★★★ | February 2024
ROCK ‘N’ ROLL | ★★★★ | December 2023
ANTHROPOLOGY | ★★★★ | September 2023
STUMPED | ★★★★ | June 2023
LINCK & MÜLHAHN | ★★★★ | February 2023
THE ART OF ILLUSION | ★★★★★ | January 2023
SONS OF THE PROPHET | ★★★★ | December 2022

AN INTERROGATION

AN INTERROGATION

AN INTERROGATION