★★★★★

“fuses science and humanity with dazzling clarity”

Following its critically acclaimed, Olivier-nominated Old Vic run, Sir Tom Stoppard’s ‘Arcadia’ makes a historic West End debut on the very day the Duke of York’s Theatre is renamed in his honour. Stoppard fuses science and art into one of the most existential plays ever written – sharp, layered and deeply rewarding, it stays with you long after it ends.

Thomasina – a nineteenth century teen prodigy – is on the cusp of unravelling the secrets of the universe, aided by her errant tutor, Septimus. Generations later, descendants and scholars comb the same manor for answers of their own. They all seek meaning amid the noise, as the expected order of things dissolves into brilliant chaos.

The late Stoppard’s work is a masterpiece. Intelligently and elegantly layered, it feels like a good cup of tea – deeper and more flavourful with time. It artfully marries scientific rigour with human richness – complex physical theories feel accessible while emotional clarity rings true. Pithy, crisp humour offers sharp relief. True to the quote that inspired the name, decay – be it death or entropy – is ever present. Though some characters feel more approximated than resolved, their fluid relationships capture entropy’s chaos so deftly it becomes a strength. A brilliant fusion of scientific and human unpredictability.

Carrie Cracknell’s superb direction is full of humanity and warmth. The sharp humour anchors denser ideas – signal amid the noise perhaps. The double revolve reveals order, chaos and time’s inexorable drift – a powerful reminder that nothing’s ever truly static. Ira Mandela Siobhan choreographs entropy with striking intelligence, and subtle transitional sequences add meaning. The waltz scene is gorgeous, its final gesture devastating. Though technically in the round, the gradual accumulation of debris reads less clearly from the front, but it’s a small trade off in an otherwise brilliant piece.

Alex Eales preserves the deceptively simple Old Vic staging, with a pared back double revolve and futuristic overhead lights evoking celestial bodies orbiting the steadfast central table. Guy Hoare’s deliberately restrained lighting favours warm and cool tones, but with colour blooming and overhead lights pulsing and drifting at key moments. Stuart Earl’s score surprises, with string rich polyrhythms that span time periods. Donato Wharton’s sound design gives the music real lift, and Suzanne Cave’s costumes deftly sketch each era before blending them.

The ensemble cast navigates this intricate play with breathtaking clarity. Isis Hainsworth’s Thomasina and Seamus Dillane’s Septimus are especially captivating. Hainsworth brings a luminous mix of naïveté and wisdom to her precocious genius, striving for meaning until the very end. Dillane sparkles with saucy insouciance, gleefully outmanoeuvring the hapless Mr Chater (Matthew Steer), before smouldering with restrained desire. Yolanda Kettle’s Lady Coombs is a delight, her cutting wit and striking poise laced with sly seductiveness. Hannah’s (Nikki Amuka-Bird) patient diligence offsets Bernard’s (Oliver Chris) flamboyant romanticism. Together, they all coalesce in beautifully chaotic symmetry.

Arcadia fuses science and humanity with dazzling clarity. Steeped in meaning, each visit reveals something new – a historic West End run you definitely shouldn’t miss.

BARCELONA at the Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★★

“The performances are exceptionally strong. Collins is impressive as the loose cannon, unpredictable and unsure of herself.”

Two characters, a world apart, are thrown together in Bess Wohl’s play, “Barcelona”. The cultural divide is as gaping as you can get but our first glimpse of them sees them in an intimate, tongue-wrapping clinch, awkwardly fumbling in the semi-darkness of a plain apartment in Barcelona. As they break away from each other, she is far from tongue tied. Everything is ‘cute’. She has clearly had too much to drink, whereas he has had too much to think about. This is preceded by a burst of ill-fitting, dramatic music which is at odds with the tone of the opening scene. Yet we soon discover the inconsistency is deliberate as Wohl’s clever writing unfolds.

It is a deceptive piece. Seemingly shallow but concealing some dark waters beneath its surface. A surface riddled with metaphors and dramatic ironies once you get the knack of spotting them. Irene (Lily Collins) is an American, washed up in the Spanish city in an extended bachelorette party. Manuel (Álvaro Morte) has come from Madrid to stay in the apartment for reasons that become clear later. It turns out she was the one who picked him up in the bar – a kind of dare almost. Things have gone a bit further than she may have intended, but for now she is more than willing to go with the flow.

We start out not really caring. What is the attraction? Why have they come together? The initial carnal fumbling is sexless, and the reactionless chemistry leaves us cold. She is intensely irritating. He is incessantly irritated. After a particularly leaden faux pas, Irene exclaims ‘I hope I didn’t ruin the ambience’. For a moment we wonder where the ambience is that she is referring to. Yet – as the layers are chipped away, revelations appear bit by bit. Like that game in which another square reveals more of the picture. The more we cotton on, the more we engage. They are no longer caricatures but complex characters; a lack of motive or intention now replaced by twisted backstories that inspire sympathy.

The performances are exceptionally strong. Collins is impressive as the loose cannon, unpredictable and unsure of herself. Her innate paranoia and mistrust run deeper than the Rioja that she is knocking back. Clueless on the outside but clued up enough to sense that something is amiss. Morte gives a startlingly solid performance. Possessing a European no-nonsense savoir faire he appears carefree yet, when left alone for brief moments, his expressions betray a sinister danger. They are both their own wrecking balls and we wait for the self-destruction.

However, neither can quite hide the excesses of the text that, even at a slim ninety minutes, carry a little too much excess weight, while the dialogue could do with a quick work out. Manuel has less to say but perversely he says so much more, which is where Wohl’s writing works wonders as the larger arguments appear out of the subtle magic of small talk. There is a gorgeous moment when Manuel picks apart Irene’s declaration of being ‘proud to be an American’. In a dismissive and heartfelt swoop, Manuel issues a polemic that covers a landscape of imperialism, displacement, ancestry even touching on genocide. The politics that seep into the arguments manage to sit perfectly with the personal; while references to the al-Qaeda terrorist attack in Madrid take on a harrowing emotional quality.

Lynette Linton’s tight direction moves the action neatly from its long night’s journey into day, the passage of time wonderfully evoked by Jai Morjaria’s lighting and haunting use of shadows. As daybreak creeps through the side window, self-knowledge (for Irene at least) dawns with the realisation that maybe she knows nothing. A Socratic paradox that represents a kind of umbrella under which the characters try to shelter from their own conundrums. Outside the apartment window is Barcelona’s famous Basílica de la Sagrada Família. Building began in 1882, but it is still unfinished. It is a fitting metaphor. The play, ultimately, suffers from a lack of resolution. It feels like an episode of a much greater story. An utterly enticing instalment, nonetheless. Another paradox. By curtain call, we feel like we’ve had enough. Yet we are left wanting more.

Tag Archives: Duke of York’s Theatre

ARCADIA

★★★★★

Duke of York’s Theatre

ARCADIA

Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★★★

“fuses science and humanity with dazzling clarity”

ARCADIA

Duke of York’s Theatre

Reviewed on 1st July 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Manuel Harlan

ARCADIA

ARCADIA

ARCADIA

BARCELONA

★★★★

Duke of York’s Theatre

BARCELONA at the Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★★

“The performances are exceptionally strong. Collins is impressive as the loose cannon, unpredictable and unsure of herself.”