Tag Archives: Hannah Bothelton

MAN TO MAN

★★★★

Royal Court

MAN TO MAN

Royal Court

★★★★

“layered, provocative and endlessly interpretable, it deserves to be seen”

Manfred Karge’s groundbreaking solo play ‘Man To Man’ returns with undimmed force. Reuniting Tilda Swinton, director Stephen Unwin and designer Bunny Christie from the original premiere, this bold reinvention cements its status as a modern classic.

Ella’s husband is dead. As a working class widow in 1930s Germany, she makes the only rational choice – assume Max’s identity. But with Germany hurtling towards its most turbulent decades, how long can she keep up such a dangerous façade?

Translated from Manfred Karge’s original German by Anthony Vivis and revised by Stephen Unwin, the text has a disorientating, dreamlike quality. Built from fragments of hauntingly vivid script, it’s akin to a great epic – albeit grimier and more ambiguous. Max’s monologue is both revealing and evasive, propelled by sheer force of will. Two new stanzas – one charting the fall of the Berlin Wall, the other the rise of contemporary fascism – bring the play sharply into 2026 and demand to know what the decades of sacrifice were for. My only reservations are the work’s density: its lush imagery and emotional complexity require attention. The episodic structure can also feel a little uneven, lacking a clear dramatic peak. However, I can see why it’s hailed a modern classic – layered, provocative and endlessly interpretable, it deserves to be seen.

Stephen Unwin’s direction masterfully captures the play’s dreamlike logic – both heightened yet undeniably true. Scenes are linked with evocative transition sequences, snapping into place with surreal assuredness. Max almost feels grotesque – from the shock of electrocuted hair to the garish Y fronts and brazenly bare legs – yet is grounded by his simmering emotions and precarious vulnerability. Movement director Kane Husbands similarly treads the line between realism and surrealism, blending naturalistic movement with symbolic flourishes. Altogether, it’s a commanding piece of theatre.

Bunny Christie’s sparse design channels the fragmented narrative beautifully, with enough props to furnish key moments but otherwise bare white walls. It’s quietly claustrophobic, perfectly capturing Max’s exposed position – completely reliant on the persona he’s contrived. Christie’s costumes remain brilliantly defiant, with the iconic red Y-fronts, bare legs and oversized boots evoking bravado and fragility. Ben Ormerod’s lighting is remarkably subtle, shifting almost imperceptibly in intensity and angle to create shadows from nowhere. Combined with Matt Powell’s evocative projections, it creates a deeply unsettling atmosphere. Elena Peña’s sound design layers ominous distortion with fleeting musical fragments, and Campbell Young Associates’ cartoonish wigs are spot on.

From the moment the screen rises, the inimitable Tilda Swinton has you in the palm of their hand. Her piercing gaze hooks you and East London accent disarms you. Swinton then proceeds to nail every beat of this complex play, shifting effortlessly between Ella, Max and a host of supporting characters without ever losing clarity or depth. Her swagger is magnetic and moments of vulnerability quietly devastating. Rarely does a solo performance feel so alive.

This reincarnation of ‘Man To Man’ for the Royal Court’s 70th anniversary season is both a fitting and powerful reminder that history’s darkest chapters are always closer than they seem. Demanding but richly rewarding, it’s not to be missed.



MAN TO MAN

Royal Court

Reviewed on 15th September 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Ruediger Glatz


 

 

 

 

MAN TO MAN

MAN TO MAN

MAN TO MAN

THE CHILDREN

★★★★

Lyric Hammersmith

THE CHILDREN

Lyric Hammersmith

★★★★

“Moving, intelligent and beautifully acted”

Ten years after its Royal Court premiere and Broadway success – receiving two Tony award nominations – ‘The Children’ returns to London with undiminished urgency. A study of people in crisis and generational responsibility, this gripping revival pulses with life, loss and the duties that remain.

After a coastal nuclear disaster, Hazel and Robin scrape a life from the fallout. When an old friend drops in unannounced, buried secrets bubble to the surface. But Rose’s real reason for visiting changes everything. Will they be strong enough to face it?

Written by the award-winning Lucy Kirkwood, ‘The Children’ creates almost uncomfortably real characters. Hazel desperately distracts herself from her own mortality, while self-destructive Robin stares death in the face. Then Rose sweeps in like a rogue wave, steeling herself for a devastating request. It’s a deliciously tangled knot of guilt, denial and responsibility, deftly capturing ordinary people in crisis. Despite its apocalyptic backdrop, the dialogue remains deeply human as people struggle to articulate or conceal their true feelings. The overlapping rhythms feel effortlessly natural, shot through with revealingly sharp humour. And there’s never a wasted detail, everything returning with greater meaning. My only niggles are the intricate plotting perhaps feels a touch too thorough, leaving less space for ambiguity, and it takes a beat longer to wrap up than it could – though to be fair, Hazel’s need for order is entirely true to character. Ultimately, Kirkwood’s writing is deeply moving.

Under Rachel O’Riordan’s assured direction, the humanity hits home. Bristling tension dares you to pick at the web of old wounds. The characters and their relationships feel fully developed, and the pacing is brisk and engaging – though it does slacken a tad towards the close. The movement is subtle yet purposeful, strategically mirroring shifting alliances. Overall, it’s a strong, powerfully crafted revival worthy of its tenth anniversary.

The design beautifully serves the script while adding its own artful flair. Gary McCann’s striking set is full of contrasts: Hazel and Robin’s homely existence squats beneath dark, unbending steel, and tiny glimpses of a realistic sea are offset by the stage’s uneasy tilt. McCann’s costumes subtly reveal and conceal personalities. Anna Watson’s lighting pits domestic warmth against industrial chill, while Holly Khan’s soundscape blends natural and mechanical sounds to unnerving effect – especially the almost imperceptible rumble that quietly raises tension. Campbell Young Associates’ unexpectedly powerful wigs, hair and make-up design drives home the human stakes.

Declan Conlon, Kerry Fox and Meera Syal nail the fraught dynamic of friends with history. Conlon sparkles with devilish charm as Robin, softening his rougher edges just enough land the final reconciliation. Fox makes Rose’s intrusion feel both unsettling and inevitable, balancing steely resolve with honest vulnerability. Syal expertly channels Hazel’s determined denial and frantic fear, though a little more contrast in places would make the performance even stronger.

Moving, intelligent and beautifully acted, catch ‘The Children’ while you can.



THE CHILDREN

Lyric Hammersmith

Reviewed on 12th September 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Helen Maybanks


 

 

 

 

The Children

The Children

The Children