★★★

“an unflinching depiction of grief, suffering, and how family can infect”

Personal Values, a new play written by Chloë Lawrence-Taylor and directed by Lucy Morrison, is an unapologetic depiction of grief and isolation through the lens of two estranged sisters.

Firstly, the set design (Naomi Dawson) is fantastic. The clutter and physical chaos of a house that is so rammed with chachka it has begun to retaliate, is arresting. It’s the palpable manifestation of the grief and self-flagellation central to the emotional nucleus of the piece. And it’s deliberately distracting. For both the characters and the audience, the imposing beast that is hoarding looms throughout, its own character, pulling at everyone. It makes for bleak show. But that is the point, so it’s effective.

Two sisters, now in middle age, are reunited – in a conspicuously constrained space– they bicker and blame and mourn. As confessions unfurl, some of the ice inevitably thaws, and the idiosyncrasies and entanglements of sister relationships are depicted with success. Much of the plot is reliant on reveals, so I shall remain vague, but Bea is entrenched in a life-long Hoarding Disorder, thus imprisoning herself in the family home; Veda, on the other hand, ostensibly escaped, but is suffering her own form of incarceration. Much of the piece is naturalistic, with quick two-handed dialogue. In the middle, it tips into a more abstract angle, which is slightly confusing, but ultimately good for the stakes and the drama. Rosie Cavaliero as Bea and Holly Atkins as Veda are both equally excellent, natural but deeply feeling. The script itself was perhaps a little inhibiting for the actors, its dialogue slightly on the generic side.

The piece has two distinct parts, even without an interval. The first was perhaps the more effective: with its focus on sisters, their estrangement and tensions, matched by years of memories and behavioural patterns, it’s a compelling watch. The second half is slightly flatter, exploring the relationship between Bea and her nephew, Ash (Archie Christoph-Allen), as their suffering mounts. Thus, its ending note of hope felt slightly implausible.

Lighting (Holly Ellis) and sound (Max Pappenheim) were also commendable here: flickering lamps lent an eerie, appropriately ghostly quality, whilst an overhead lit square effectively mirrored the prisons these women have made for themselves. A claustrophobic patter of rain underscores much of the piece: it lends an oppressive quality to the dialogue which is palpable.

Personal Values is an unflinching depiction of grief, suffering, and how family can infect. It doesn’t feel quite like a finished product yet, but it certainly explores the quiet tragedy of Hoarding Disorders with subtle grace. The central twist pierces the piece with a further nuance that forces you to reconsider what you just watched, underscoring the naturalism with a darker, more abstract exploration of the spectres of family and mourning.

APEX PREDATOR

Hampstead Theatre

★★

“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.

PERSONAL VALUES

Hampstead Theatre

★★★

“an unflinching depiction of grief, suffering, and how family can infect”

PERSONAL VALUES

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 22nd April 2025

by Violet Howson

Photography by Helen Murray

Previously reviewed at this venue:

PERSONAL VALUES

PERSONAL VALUES

PERSONAL VALUES

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