Tag Archives: Giles Broadbent

A DOLL’S HOUSE

★★★★

Almeida Theatre

A DOLL’S HOUSE

Almeida Theatre

★★★★

“the performances are solid and nuanced”

At one point, Nora, drowning in debt and deception, dances in a sexy nurse outfit for her husband and her best friend – two birds with one stone.

Spoiler alert: it is a profoundly unsexy moment. Nora is too freighted with distress to be a fantasy figure, the men too bovine in their strangled lusts to be enchanted.

Real life intrudes and breaks down the illusion into its humdrum parts.

Besides, Nora is too smart to surrender to the pretence. That, in miniature, is the problem she is trying to outrun: life as performance.

Anya Reiss’s update of A Doll’s House places Nora and Torvald in the upper tiers of London finance, where the money is large, the margins tight, and the optics everything.

They are on the cusp of cashing out but the deal is not yet done. Until then, they are living as if the millions are already in the bank. The house is full of Christmas credit card sprees and the mood just shy of panic.

The plot does not need much adjustment from Henrik Ibsen’s original, except that here the women are more clearly the authors of their own misfortune. Nora has committed a financial crime to keep her husband afloat through addiction and recovery. Her husband doesn’t know. It would ruin him. Nils, an employee with a precarious foothold on his own life, opts for blackmail. From there, the screws tighten in familiar ways.

Romola Garai plays ersatz yummy mummy Nora as someone always a fraction ahead of herself but gaining no advantage from the foreknowledge. She dominates the play. Her performance is agitated and magnetic, managing not just her secret but the version of herself that makes the rest of this fakery possible.

Tom Mothersdale’s Torvald is all nervous control. His authority rests on things continuing to go well. He is a man clinging to love, money and illusion with desperation rather than joy. His history of addiction is not overplayed, but it colours everything, especially his hostility to James Corrigan’s Nils. Corrigan gives Nils a sweaty directness the others often avoid. He knows what he wants and says so, where the rest sustain the lie for as long as the lie remains viable.

Reiss threads in contemporary detail. They live on their phones, sealed in a kind of high-end white bunker, with real life kept at bay. Their only connections are via Instagram. The children remain offstage, heard but not seen, and at one point Nora frets that she is simply performing motherhood via FaceTime.

Around the central pair, the performances are solid and nuanced. Thalissa Teixeira’s downbeat Kristine – the most sympathetic in a parade of slithering grotesques – offers a steadier presence and some semblance of hope. Olivier Huband’s Petter Rank, who lusts after Nora, is mostly insufferable.

Director Joe Hill-Gibbins ensures the drama builds cleanly. By the final confrontation, when Nora has no choice but to tell Torvald the truth, there is nothing left to hide behind. The resolution misfires somewhat – the tone all over the place – which leads to deflation rather than explosion.

What remains, however, is a sense of drenching anxiety. This is Snakes on a Plane for the banking set.



A DOLL’S HOUSE

Almeida Theatre

Reviewed on 9th April 2026

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Marc Brenner


 

 

 

 

A DOLL’S HOUSE

A DOLL’S HOUSE

A DOLL’S HOUSE

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME

★★★★

Soho Theatre

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“an assured and inventive debut”

We are housed, it seems, in a Fisher Price Activity Centre. With writer/designer Hannah Caplan’s hand-made staging, there are multitudes of textures: flaps that open, macramé cobwebs, hiding places for puppets, fuzzy felt objects, hand-stitched graffiti and dangling string. The ceiling is brushed cotton, the walls winceyette. It is soft, busy, tactile. A little Bagpuss, even.

At one point, a fleece eiderdown is unfolded to reveal a poster poem about sex, accompanied by a sudden torrent of petals.

That image becomes a neat encapsulation of Caplan’s debut play: a torrent of petals. It is winsome, inventive, and deliberately scattered.

The story follows Grace, picking through the fragments of her on-again-off-again situationship with Eli, trying to work out what went right and what went wrong. Crucially, she is doing so by writing a play as both exploration and therapy. This play, in fact.

The structure is therefore self-conscious and self-aware, with Eli required to submit to Grace’s framing of events. Occasionally, they step outside the action to interrogate plot and character – and at one point Eli rebels against his own depiction – but the power dynamic remains clear: Grace has the final say.

Caplan’s interest lies in that tension between authorship and experience. The looping structure allows for repeated meet-cutes and small variations on emotional beats, mimicking the obsessive analysis of a relationship.

When the pair sit down to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, they are repaying a hefty debt to Charlie Kaufman, king of self-referential storytelling.

At its best, this is sharp and recognisable: the awkward silences, the unsaid meanings, the circular conversations. But the same structure also proves limiting. The self-awareness occasionally tips into overworking, and the repetition can feel indulgent.

Douglas Clarke-Wood’s sinuous direction does much to smooth this out, keeping the action fluid and visually engaging. The easy chemistry between the leads also helps. Amaia Naima Aguinaga’s Grace is fierce, funny and quietly unravelled, while Francis Nunnery’s Eli is baffled, outmanoeuvred and entirely without malice.

In their stillest moments – sitting side by side, exchanging small smiles and shoulder bumps – the play finds its most affecting register.

This Is Not About Me is an assured and inventive debut: a funny and self-aware piece that occasionally circles its own ideas too closely, but remains full of charm. It was an Edinburgh Fringe favourite last year and heads to New York after this run in Soho.



THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 30th March 2026

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Inigo Woodham Smith


 

 

 

 

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME