Tag Archives: Guy Hoare

ARCADIA

★★★★★

Old Vic

ARCADIA

Old Vic

★★★★★

“extremely intelligent, stimulating, challenging and fun”

It is rare in the theatre when the question about why jam cannot be ‘unstirred’ from a bowl of rice pudding sets our thoughts on a mind-boggling tangent about the universe. But it epitomises the skill and the beauty of the writing in Tom Stoppard’s “Arcadia”. It is the ‘ordinary-sized stuff which is in our lives, the things people write about – clouds, daffodils, waterfalls, what happens in a cup of coffee when the cream goes in – these things are full of mystery’. Carrie Cracknell’s revival of the 1993 stage play is, indeed, full of mystery. Like a detective story with an abundance of clues that, once in the hands of the protagonists, don’t really lead to the solution they are looking for. Mainly because there is always a counter argument.

The age-old conflicts between science and art, intellect and romance, certainty and poetry, truth and fiction, are explored with beautiful eloquence. Stoppard picks away at our own beliefs, and by setting the play in two parallel eras (the early nineteenth and the late twentieth centuries) he picks away at the fabric of time itself. Many of the issues soar way over our heads as dollops of theories are added to the metaphoric rice pudding. Postulations of quantum mechanics, entropy, chaos theory and Newtonianism, for example, rub shoulders with bawdy humour and ‘carnal embraces’ (aka sex). The subject matter collides like tiny atoms, but far from being chaotic the result is a glorious three hours of theatrical bliss. And a gorgeous tribute to the playwright who died barely ten weeks ago.

The outstanding cast goes a long way in ensuring the watchability of the drama. The play opens in 1809 with the precocious and privileged Thomasina Coverly (Isis Hainsworth) in a light-hearted but deep conversation with her tutor Septimus Hodge (Seamus Dillane). The quality of the performances is established from the outset – both playful and serious at the same time. The dynamics are flirtatious, a touch dubious but somehow chaste. Dillane wears a guilty conscience like a made-to-measure second skin while Hainsworth faultlessly displays a mix of playful childishness, genius and sassiness. In storms the bumbling, wannabe poet Ezra Chater (Matthew Steer on brilliant form) challenging Septimius to a duel in the belief that he is carrying on with his wife (he is). He is also ‘carrying on’ with Thomasina’s mother – we are led to believe. Oh, what a tangled web we weave… Fiona Button wonderfully displays coquettishness and playful attraction despite ruling the manor – and her daughter – with an iron fist.

Cut to 1993 and we are in the same location. The ghosts of the historical characters are hanging in the air as academic Hannah Jarvis (Leila Farzad) is locked in debate with Bernard Nightingale (Prasanna Puwanarajah) over what happened nearly two centuries ago in the very same room. Puwanarajah has some of the best monologues of the play as he charismatically extrapolates his theories; often proved wrong by Farzad’s cool Hannah. Links to the past are provided by the present-day Chloë Coverly (Holly Godliman) and her brother Valentine (Angus Cooper) who seems to be wrestling with the scientific predictions of his forebear Thomasina, but with considerably less ease.

Alex Eales’ design places the action in the round on a slowly moving revolve which mirrors the passage of time – perceptible but simultaneously unnoticed. In this way, the connections between the two time periods are highlighted, aided by Cracknell’s slick, overlapping transitions from one to the other which eventually fuse into a searingly poignant final act as the two merge together in a dreamy waltz. What is revealed ultimately is that, despite the breakthroughs of science, and despite the changing philosophies and beliefs over time; human connection never alters. There is much talk of loss in the dialogue. The loss of belief, of meaning and also of the material artefacts that define us – the books and the architecture of life. What do we look for then?

Yes, “Arcadia” is like a detective story with an abundance of clues that, once in the hands of the protagonists, don’t really lead to the solution they are looking for. Perhaps because what they are really looking for is love. Stoppard dresses it all up in a very wordy but extremely intelligent, stimulating, challenging and fun play. His spirit lives on and, with productions of his work like this one, we can be sure of its longevity.



ARCADIA

Old Vic

Reviewed on 6th February 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan


 

 

 

 

ARCADIA

ARCADIA

ARCADIA

BOG WITCH

★★★½

Soho Theatre Walthamstow

BOG WITCH

Soho Theatre Walthamstow

★★★½

“As soulfully tender as it is wickedly funny”

Witchiness is being reclaimed, not least by Bryony Kimmings’ ‘Bog Witch’. Kimmings’ first solo show in over five years is a hilarious yet heartfelt meditation on the cost of uprooting your life to save the planet. But for a show promising reconnection, it feels a little untethered – a rich seed that’s yet to fully bloom.

Bryony is starting a new life in the country. Forget ponies and polo: this is a permaculture patch in the middle of nowhere which her whole family loves except her. Severed from the comforts of capitalist suburbia, she’s forced to confront isolation, disconnection and rising eco-anxiety alone. In her quest to save the planet, how much of herself will she lose?

Written, directed and performed by Bryony Kimmings, ‘Bog Witch’ is a raw one-woman wrestle with the weight of saving the world. From isolation and climate anxiety to animal death and even pregnancy loss, Kimmings delves into a vivid spectrum of human experience with fearless honesty. As soulfully tender as it is wickedly funny, it’s woven with a vulnerability that beckons you into its mossy heart. Yet, it feels uneven. A playful, punchy first half gives way to an emotional but meandering second: a Wizard of Oz-esque crisis feels drawn out, and a plodding epilogue dulls the final flourish. Furthermore, the dramatic threads of soul holes and friendships fail to resolve, fizzling out with a lacklustre hug. There’s undeniable magic here, but the spell feels unfinished.

Kimmings’ direction and Francesca Murray-Fuentes’ co-direction is bold and inventive, constructing and then dismantling the set with symbolic flair. The striking and sometimes comical use of projections cleverly unites the sprawling stage elements. The disembodied voiceover adds a wry layer of self-commentary (poor Bryony). Kimmings’ storytelling is compelling, propelling the first half with energy and momentum. However, the second half loses its rhythm, especially the epilogue’s use of oversized spell book which weighs things down just when they should be building.

Kimmings commands the stage in this one-woman whirlwind of physical theatre, music, and song, a performance brimming with wit, courage, and emotional depth. There’s a witchy magic to her vocals: raw and evocative, even if not technically flawless. Though the enchantment wavers at times as repeated line slips – however cleverly handled – chip away at the flow.

Tom Parkinson’s score is rich, varied and atmospherically spot-on, shifting seamlessly from jaunty pagan folk to pulsing synth-driven soundscapes. Each choice amplifies the emotional pulse of the moment and helps conjure this strange, elemental world with satisfying precision.

Guy Hoare’s lighting design is strikingly beautiful, with sweeping transitions between expansive grandeur and piercing solitude. One of the most arresting touches is the colour draining from a scene as reality (or anxiety) kicks in.

Lewis Gibson’s sound design is dynamic and well-integrated, punctuating the performance with sardonic voiceovers and conjuring storms of sonic intensity. It complements the visual and narrative elements with flair despite sometimes overwhelming Kimmings’ vocals. Finetuning the balance could further elevate these moments.

Tom Rogers’ set and costume design subtly evoke the bleakness of Kimmings’ world. Dead, limbless trees hem her in, and even the brightest summer dress is layered over a stark black uniform. Joy is always undercut by something darker, a finely tuned reflection of the show’s emotional core.

‘Bog Witch’ delivers a compelling and emotionally resonant evening – visually rich, evocatively sincere, and unmistakably Kimmings. Despite feeling unfinished, it has an undeniable magic.



BOG WITCH

Soho Theatre Walthamstow

Reviewed on 14th October 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Rosie Powell


 

Previously reviewed at Soho Theatre venues:

MY ENGLISH PERSIAN KITCHEN | ★★★★ | October 2025
ENGLISH KINGS KILLING FOREIGNERS | ★★★½ | September 2025
REALLY GOOD EXPOSURE | ★★★★ | September 2025
JUSTIN VIVIAN BOND: SEX WITH STRANGERS | ★★★★★ | July 2025
ALEX KEALY: THE FEAR | ★★★★ | June 2025
KIERAN HODGSON: VOICE OF AMERICA | ★★★★★ | June 2025
HOUSE OF LIFE | ★★★★★ | May 2025
JORDAN GRAY: IS THAT A C*CK IN YOUR POCKET, OR ARE YOU JUST HERE TO KILL ME? | ★★★★★ | May 2025
WHAT IF THEY ATE THE BABY? | ★★★★★ | March 2025
WEATHER GIRL | ★★★½ | March 2025

 

 

BOG WITCH

BOG WITCH

BOG WITCH