Tag Archives: Gracie Lai

BALLAD LINES

★★★★

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

BALLAD LINES

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★★

“a fearless exploration of motherhood and self definition, powered by a searing score and phenomenal cast”

Craving more folk in your theatre? Fear not – ‘Ballad Lines’ begins its anticipated London debut. Spanning centuries of womanhood, this sweeping folk musical blends heart, humour and foot stomping energy to explore how the ghosts of our past shape the present.

Sarah and Alix, a queer New York couple, are ready to start a new life together – until a forgotten parcel from Sarah’s late aunt makes Sarah question everything. With generations of history pressing in, she must decide whether reclaiming her story is worth the cost.

Award winning duo Finn Anderson and Tania Azevedo craft a compelling book, weaving complex female narratives with remarkable clarity and revealing the deep threads connecting Sarah’s family. The writing tackles heavy themes with refreshing frankness, letting the nuances of motherhood shine. The central characters feel fully realised, creating a rich tapestry of human voices. Though Betty’s pivotal relationship with Sarah could be explored further, and both Sarah and Alix’s shifts in perspective land a touch abruptly. Still, it’s a rich, rewarding script.

Anderson’s infectious score is a triumph, blending traditional folk with evocative new material. Highlights include the evolution of ‘The Four Marys’ into ‘Unexpected Visitor’, and the tender ‘Separate Ways’. That said, the ‘Epilogue’ could benefit from sharper contrast with the ‘Prologue’ to underscore Sarah’s new voice. Nevertheless, the cast recording will be on repeat for the foreseeable future. Shonagh Murray’s musical direction, alongside onstage trio Sally Simpson, Maddy Salter and Isis Dunthorne, brings the score vibrantly to life.

Azevedo’s direction, with support from Eliza Beth Stevens, is dynamic and assured. Ghostly intrusions make striking use of the space, colour neatly shifts time and place, and transitions are impressively slick. The historically grounded European accents land well. The cassette tape motif is playful and effective, though a reprise of the ‘holding all the strands’ idea could add another layer.

Tinovimbanashe Sibanda’s choreography provides a pulsing, stomping heartbeat throughout. The movement suits the tight space, evoking pressure, yearning and fear, though the exuberant hoedown suggests even more dynamism could be unlocked.

TK Hay’s set is striking, anchored by a wooden structure bursting into the space at an off kilter angle that mirrors the tangled narratives. The mountain fringes shift mood and colour, though the sheer width of the stage risks losing things in the peripheries.

Simon Wilkinson’s lighting is sharply judged, grounding the present in a clean palette while the past bursts with impressionistic colour. Each narrative thread gets its own scheme, keeping the audience oriented without major set changes, and the hues subtly define character – from Jean’s watery tones to the red and blue clash of Cait’s inner conflict.

Andy Johnson’s sound design is excellent – crisp, balanced, and remarkably clear. Every instrument cuts through with precision, and the stamping resonates beautifully. The ambient soundscape is equally strong, with textures that feel real.

Carly Brownbridge’s costume design smartly blends historical silhouettes with contemporary textures, reimagining the past through modern materials like quilted jackets and fingerless gloves.

The cast is exceptional, pouring raw emotion into every scene. Sydney Sainté’s Alix radiates charisma and razor sharp comic timing, while Kirsty Findlay’s Cait is a knockout in acting, singing and movement. Yna Tresvalles brings rebellious spark and stunning vocals as Jean, and Frances McNamee’s Sarah pairs rich vocals with beautifully played indecision. Ally Kennard’s multirole work is fluid and expressive, and Rebecca Trehearn’s Betty is a gutsy powerhouse, especially in ‘I Wish My Baby Was Born’. Gracie Lai and Siân Louise Dowdalls round out the ensemble with equal strength, and together the eight performers create a remarkable wall of sound. Spectacular.

‘Ballad Lines’ is a fearless exploration of motherhood and self definition, powered by a searing score and phenomenal cast. Catch it while you can – it’s absolutely one to watch.



BALLAD LINES

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

Reviewed on 29th January 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Pamela Raith


 

 

 

 

BALLAD LINES

BALLAD LINES

BALLAD LINES

YOUR LIE IN APRIL

★★★

Harold Pinter Theatre

YOUR LIE IN APRIL at the Harold Pinter Theatre

★★★

“a fun-filled show, packed with bubbly pop numbers and heartfelt performances.”

The net is wide for source material for musicals so an adaptation of a hit manga turned anime feels like a ripe opportunity both for visual delights, and for ticket sales to an existing fan base.

The story is simple and sweet. It follows high schooler Kōsei’s (Zheng Xi Yong) struggle to recapture his musical ability after the loss of his mother. He is helped by his best friend, tomboy Tsubaki (Rachel Clare Chan) and by a mysterious new girl, Kaori (Mia Kobayashi) who is passionate about showing him the power of his talent.

Some aspects of the story’s translation to stage work beautifully – it is a story with music at its core. The show works well to weave in classical pieces, balancing them with Frank Wildhorn’s catchy and fun numbers. Zheng impressively plays a piano which remains ever present on stage. It is a love story of musicians, and a love letter to music.

Adaptation is a battle between what to leave in and what to cut. Rinne B Groff, who wrote the English language book, has made some surprising choices. A number about bike riding comes a bit out it nowhere – though the choreography by director and choreographer Nick Winston shines particularly in this scene. In a relatively short musical, there is less chance to develop story so each scene really counts. The plot unravels slowly, then all at once.

The tangled teenage triangles, united by the power of music are brought to life by Zheng’s believable anguish, Kobayashi’s mesmerising breathy vocals, Chan’s cartoonish enthusiasm and Dean John Wilson’s excellent comic timing. Lucy Park does a surprisingly moving turn as Kōsei’s mother, it’s almost a walk on part but she brings true emotion to it. Theo Oh is adorable, one of three alternating young Kōseis who make the audience audibly coo. Ernest Stroud and Erika Posadas are quiet scene stealers as resentful lesser piano competitors. And Chris Fung smashes the funniest moment in the show.

Playful nods to the manga shimmer (thanks to Rory Beaton’s lighting design) across Japanese screens which surround the set (Justin Williams). A cherry tree and a piano mark opposite ends of the stage. Between that and carved wooden steps, the set anchors the play with a much-needed sense of place. Without it, the show might feel eerily devoid of setting. There is a clean-cut all Americanness to Groff’s dialogue and Miller & Green’s lyrics which make the already contrived situations feel at times laughably silly. This silliness is not helped by everyone being in school uniform (designed beautifully by Kimie Nakano).

For 2024 a show where female characters prop up the main male story, at times risking their own health and wellbeing, does feel a little dated. There’s also a predictability to it, which alienates the drama a little.

However, for a younger audience or  fans of this particular genre, this could be a smash hit. The teenager beside me, a fan of the anime, was enraptured to see his favourite characters on stage. Despite a little cheesiness, this is a fun-filled show, packed with bubbly pop numbers and heartfelt performances.


YOUR LIE IN APRIL at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Reviewed on 5th July 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Craig Sugden

 

 


 

 

See also:

YOUR LIE IN APRIL | ★★★★ | Theatre Royal Drury Lane | April 2024

YOUR LIE IN APRIL

YOUR LIE IN APRIL

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