Tag Archives: Hannah Bothelton

GUIDELINES

★★★★

New Diorama Theatre

GUIDELINES

New Diorama Theatre

★★★★

“Punchy, pacy and full of bite”

Something sinister lurks beneath social media’s glossy veneer. CONGLOMERATE’s debut show, ‘Guidelines’, is a striking new work fusing nuance, power, levity and darkness into something eerie and exhilarating.

Two sisters in a wood. A dancing man. A frog with eyes in its mouth. Somehow this fractured stream of consciousness coheres as we tumble down a social media rabbit hole with deadly consequences.

Writer Pip Williams, with dramaturg Louise Orwin, delivers a tight two-hander that nails the absurdist contradictions of social media, capturing familiar online habits with subtlety and bite. The opening voicemail sets an ominous tone even if it feels a touch poetic, before a sudden shift to pulsing rhythm tips us off balance. Recurring lines create a doom-scrolled tangle, with sharp humour cutting through at just the right moments. Momentum gathers promisingly, though the final third loses steam: the forest climax could push further, and the closing scene takes time to land an under powered point despite the bold pivot. Still, ‘Guidelines’ feels on the cusp of something genuinely exciting.

James Nash’s direction is slick and assured, capturing the slow burning menace with precision. The pacing is finely tuned, adding irony or resonance with flair. The use of space and roaming stand mics is particularly striking, shifting between prowling movement and considered stillness to create a restless, caged energy. Transitions are generally seamless and the use of darkness deepens the nightmarish mood. It’s a shame the momentum softens in the final scene, but overall it’s an expertly crafted piece.

Movement director Ken Nakajima’s work really elevates the piece, drawing sharp contrasts between naturalistic gestures and algorithm ready moves. The jarring kill sequences are a crisply executed standout.

The music – including AJ Turner’s opening composition and vocals – brings a distinctive, electronic edge to the production. Pulses of suitably dystopian drum and bass convey hidden dangers, and the burst of influencer era pop cleverly masks dark lyrics.

The design is powerful. Jida Akil’s minimal set makes a bold impression, the gorgeous gold banners transforming with deft lighting changes, and the gentle sway of hanging ropes unexpectedly evoking tree limbs. Adi Currie’s lighting is beautifully judged, moving between subtle washes and sudden shocks. The fades rendering the actors momentarily faceless are especially striking, offering a sharp counterpoint to more realistic sequences. Patch Middleton’s sound design is equally strong, with clever use of volume, impeccably timed cues, and a clean overall balance, though the actors could project more when they’re away from the stand mics. Akil’s costumes contrast corporate crispness with casual teen-wear, though the sudden shift to Puritan garb is initially puzzling.

Rachel Leah Hosker and Alex McCauley make an exceptional duo – fully immersed, sharply paced and completely in sync, moving between corporate performativity, teen innocence and raw fear in a heartbeat. They build easy audience rapport, land the comic beats with precision, and handle movement work with authority. It’s compelling, nuanced acting that leaves a real impression.

Punchy, pacy and full of bite, ‘Guidelines’ delivers a clear eyed critique of our unregulated social media age. With a little tightening, it could go far – so catch it while it’s still up close.



GUIDELINES

New Diorama Theatre

Reviewed on 5th February 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Clémence Rebourg


 

 

 

 

GUIDELINES

GUIDELINES

GUIDELINES

DAGMARR’S DIMANCHE

★★★

Crazy Coqs

DAGMARR’S DIMANCHE

Crazy Coqs

★★★

“plenty of star quality, with stunning vocals and a carefully curated set list”

If you’re craving golden age Hollywood glamour, the next instalment of Dagmarr’s Dimanche: ‘Songs from the Cinema’ at Crazy Coqs delivers silver screen seductresses, past and present. Though the opening is a little hesitant, Dagmarr’s voice and charisma soon light up the room.

“Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome” to an evening of cinema’s timeless temptresses – none more luminous than Hersh Dagmarr, of course. Dagmarr’s worldly ghost insists they’ve shaped everyone from Hollywood’s first chanteuses to today’s femme fatales. They’re not bitter, but it should have been them – and tonight they’re out to prove it.

Created and performed by Hersh Dagmarr with Karen Newby on keys, this cabaret channels 1920s Weimar Berlin and smoky French chanson. Dagmarr recounts a gloriously chequered past, lifting the curtain on everyone from Mae West to Madonna, and unleashes punchy vocals across a setlist spanning Sondheim, Gershwin, Kander and Ebb, and more.

Dagmarr’s singing is the clear highlight of the evening. Dagmarr’s technique and versatility are striking, moving effortlessly through musical styles with a thrilling brassy belt, soaring falsetto, and soft, intimate whispers that would make many singers jealous. The spoken sections initially land a little tentatively, with early stumbles and wobbly pacing that leaves a few punchlines adrift – though Dagmarr eventually finds the rhythm. It also takes time for the persona to fully snap into place, but once it does the magnetism is electric. Once in full stride, an irresistible enchantress emerges; it’s just a pity they don’t arrive sooner.

From a writing perspective, the act shows real promise but needs refining. The central concept takes time to surface, and the spoken sections could be snappier in places, with a few wordy detours slowing the pace. In terms of direction, Dagmarr could make a far bolder entrance – the current one is so understated it’s almost missed. Greater use of space and some choreography would lift earlier numbers, though things bloom as the persona settles.

The set list celebrates the golden age of Hollywood, with a few newer numbers adding welcome freshness. The arrangements cleverly give everything a silver screen shimmer, and the curation flows smoothly from big showstoppers to intimate torch songs that show off Dagmarr’s range.

Pianist Karen Newby plays with the ease and flair of a seasoned jazz musician. The arrangements are impressively cohesive across styles, though a few big moments – particularly the finales of ‘Mein Herr’ and ‘I’m Still Here’ – could use a fuller piano line. Newby’s own vocal cameo is charming and expressive, even if the brief duets highlight the contrasting singing styles a little too sharply.

The cabaret design is pared back, with a set composed of the signature Crazy Coqs’ red velvet curtain, piano and mic stand. The lighting is similarly simple, creating intimacy but occasionally dipping before the final note ends. The sound levels never quite hit the sweet spot between singing and speech, though Dagmarr’s soaring belt still shines. Costume wise, the glittery Dietrich esque tailcoat is a smart choice but could push the persona further, with the mid show costume change into another fur coat feeling like a missed opportunity.

Dagmarr’s Dimanche: ‘Songs from the Cinema’ has plenty of star quality, with stunning vocals and a carefully curated set list; it just needs to sparkle from the very beginning.

Hersh Dagmarr returns every Wednesday in March for their Roses of Elagabalus residency, and takes to the stage again at Circle & Star Theatre on 24th March.



DAGMARR’S DIMANCHE

Crazy Coqs

Reviewed on 1st February 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Ian Archer


 

 

 

 

DAGMARR’S DIMANCHE

DAGMARR’S DIMANCHE

DAGMARR’S DIMANCHE