★★

“the entire cast do as much as they can with the raw tools they’ve been given”

Has the time arrived for a new vampire story? John Donnelly thinks so. But unfortunately, his newest play, Apex Predator, can’t quite seem to decide what it wants to be — a commentary on postpartum depression and psychosis, or a horror-comedy about vampirism as an allegory for modern life. In trying to straddle the line between both worlds, it never really succeeds at either.

From the opening moment, we are reminded that London is a city of violence. Not only that, but no one in this city is going to help you, not really. If you expect to survive, you’re going to have to be strong. But Mia (Sophie Melville) is hardly feeling strong at the moment — her newborn, Isla, won’t feed. Her son, Alfie (Callum Knowelden), is being bullied at school. And on top of it all, her husband Joe (Bryan Dick) is sometimes away for days at his secretive job. When he does come home, they mostly bicker. Mia is exhausted. The neighbours are a nuisance, throwing parties with loud music, forcing Mia to bounce Isla to sleep night after night, and Joe seems… well, entirely unbothered by this. If anything, he appears agitated that his wife is having a tough time. Enter Alfie’s new art teacher, Ana (Laura Whitmore), who may just be able to offer Mia a way forward. The premise is interesting, if a bit old hat. How do we protect ourselves, but especially our children, in a world that grows more dangerous by the day? It’s unfortunate that each idea in the script feels under-developed, spawning into some new thread, while we ache for the previous thread to be tied.

Blanche McIntyre’s direction is confusing at times. Moments that feel like they deserve a bit more room to breathe are quite rushed, namely Mia and Ana’s very first meeting. Mia has rushed to Alfie’s school, to assert her son’s right to defend himself — he’s bitten another child, which feels like a bit of a flat pun, given the subject matter — and Ana switches from critical school bureaucrat to close confidante in ten seconds or less. Some dialogue is played for uncomfortable laughs, when the topic at hand feels anything but funny. In one specific moment, Mia runs round and round in circles, trying to find an escape, when there’s a relatively obvious one in front of her — a door that someone else has walked in through, just moments before. Whether this is down to McIntyre or the production’s Movement Director, Ingrid Mackinnon, is difficult to say.

But there are bright spots here. Whitmore is excellent as Ana, despite her character’s somewhat unconvincing arc. Melville is fascinating to watch as she swings between clarity and madness. Truthfully, the entire cast do as much as they can with the raw tools they’ve been given. The lighting and sound design (Jack Knowles and Chris Shutt, respectively) work together quite synergistically, particularly in a very short scene during the second act that evokes a moment from a slick on-screen horror. It’s just a shame that the story as written doesn’t allow for more of these gorgeous vignettes. The set design (Tom Piper) is excellent making great use of a relatively small space, surrounded by imposing scaffolding. The claustrophobia, the grit of a city like London is keenly felt.

All in all, the potential is there. One simply wishes that Donnelly had — forgive me — sunk his teeth in a bit deeper.

THE HABITS

Hampstead Theatre

★★★★★

“high and low stakes all come together into a funny – and moving – confection, thanks to a five-strong cast”

In The Habits, a blizzard of spells is cast across the small theatre space, the most potent of which captivates an audience left utterly enchanted by a drama about the stories we tell ourselves to get by.

The setting is Warboar Board Games café in Bromley.

Three friends have gathered, as they have done every Thursday for months. This is another session of Dungeons and Dragons, the tabletop role-playing game where players create characters and embark on collaborative adventures, guided by a Dungeon Master who narrates the story, sets challenges, and determines outcomes based on dice rolls.

Teenage student Jess is the Dungeon Master drawing her story from a heavily-inked book of frantic notes and sketches. She is transfixed, perhaps to an unhealthy degree, by the dark imagery of her quest. With her is Maryn, an overworked trainee solicitor and part-time wizard; and Milo, a reluctant job seeker and warrior princess.

They are on a mission to defeat the Nightmare King. Who is, of course, both real and not real.

Because while the players fight orcs by day, they battle demons by night. This is especially true of 16-year-old Jess who is dealing with the death of her brother and sinking herself into the game he loved in order to find a way through her grief.

She finds truth in fantasy.

Meanwhile, the venue itself is in crisis. Caffe Nero is hovering with offers. Owner Dennis is 55 and wondering if a life of games and light lute plucking is one of significance. He’s thinking of selling up, threatening to deny Jess the denouement she needs. Besides, he has a new girlfriend, Bev, a hard-nosed copper who doesn’t get “dragons and things” and, if pushed prefers, urgh, Monopoly.

“No games,” she demands of their relationship and their pastimes.

Pope John Paul II once said, “Of all the unimportant things, football is the most important.” The same is true of D&D. Jack Bradfield’s labour-of-love play captures the benign and jolly idiocy of this mismatch with a pitch perfect ear, drawing on his own experiences as a D&D fan. The script leans into the comedy: the wry and twinkly banter, the bickering and sense of family. Players relish the fact they have found their tribe and quibble on matters that, to outsiders, might seem arcane.

These high and low stakes all come together into a funny – and moving – confection, thanks to a five-strong cast.

Ruby Stokes as Jess is mesmeric – diffident and truculent and racked by unvoiced pain. Paul Thornley as Dennis brings an engaging hangdog warmth to the conflicted man-boy café owner, recognising, but not relinquishing, his own little fantasy. Debra Baker works wonders with Bev. The role is little more than a cameo, but she creates a pin-sharp portrait with just a look and a line. The fractious relationship between Milo (Jamie Bisping) and Maryn (Sara Hazemi) is underwritten but the actors pile into their characters with gusto, as D&D demands.

Ed Madden’s direction conjures the epic scale of their quests using the merest of ingredients, escalating the stakes with epic music and costume. With only a simple set – table, chairs – he takes us on a journey to a dark castle, and into broken hearts.

APEX PREDATOR

Hampstead Theatre

★★

“the entire cast do as much as they can with the raw tools they’ve been given”

APEX PREDATOR

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 31st March 2025

by Stacey Cullen

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

Previously reviewed at this venue:

APEX PREDATOR

APEX PREDATOR

APEX PREDATOR

THE HABITS

Hampstead Theatre

★★★★★

“high and low stakes all come together into a funny – and moving – confection, thanks to a five-strong cast”

THE HABITS

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 10th March 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Genevieve Girling

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE HABITS

THE HABITS

THE HABITS