Tag Archives: Guy Hoare

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

CONSUMED

★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

CONSUMED

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★

“a sophisticated and ambitious piece of writing”

Four generations of Northern Irish women gather for their great-grandmother’s 90th birthday: a family kitchen, a table set for dinner, and a tangle of unspoken histories. Over the course of the meal, tensions simmer, humour bubbles, and old wounds begin to show.
Karis Kelly’s Consumed, winner of the Women’s Prize for Playwriting, starts as a sharp and funny domestic drama. There is a clear and believable connection between the four women, with glances, shared gestures, and that mix of affection and irritation that comes from a lifetime under the same family roof. The youngest of the four, Muireann (Muireann Ní Fhaogáin), passionate about climate change, patriarchy and oat milk, clashes with the more traditional views of her elders, while the matriarchal Eileen (Julia Dearden) and her daughter Gilly (Andrea Irvine) bring their own layered history into the room. References to marriage, relationships, and what it means to “wear the trousers” in a partnership give a smart, often funny look at generational shifts and the ways some things have not shifted at all.

The performances are uniformly strong. Dearden brings a magnetic, grounded presence to great-grandmother Eileen, her deep voice and unfiltered honesty contrasting beautifully with Irvine’s effervescent Gilly, who hides her own struggles behind a bubbly façade. Caoimhe Farren has admirable conviction as Jenny and takes her to the extremities of emotion on her journey through the play. Ní Fhaogáin is convincing as the teenager great-granddaughter, although at times could do a little more to ensure she is keeping in tone with the rest of the cast.

Lily Arnold’s set is gorgeous in its detail, from the mould creeping through the wallpaper to the scuffed skirting boards and the cupboard crammed with expired tins and Bags for Life. The latter is a sly nod to the generational gap between caring for the planet and knowing how to go about it in practice. The smell of real cooking drifts into the audience, making the kitchen feel genuinely lived-in. Beth Duke’s sound design, Guy Hoare’s lighting and Karis Kelly’s witty script combine to welcome us fully into this family home.

As the piece moves into its final third, the familiar realism tilts suddenly towards supernatural horror. Flickering lights and rumbling sounds hint at something darker lurking in the house. It is an exciting shift in the writing, but the transition feels abrupt in performance. The tone wavers between psychological horror and heightened dark comedy, leaving some moments caught between the two without committing fully to either. A couple of emotional escalations, such as Jenny’s sudden outburst trashing the room, also jar against the otherwise well-paced dynamics.

Even with those uneven final beats, Consumed is a sophisticated and ambitious piece of writing, rich with ideas about generational trauma, women’s roles, and the histories we carry in our bodies as well as our memories. It is sharply funny, often moving, and brought to life by four captivating performances. With a little more space to breathe into its tonal shift, it could land with even greater impact.



CONSUMED

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 10th August 2025 at Traverse 1 at Traverse Theatre

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Pamela Raith

 

 

 

 

 

CONSUMED

CONSUMED

CONSUMED