Tag Archives: Henry Roberts

MAYBE I SHOULD STOP

★★★★

Drayton Arms Theatre

MAYBE I SHOULD STOP

Drayton Arms Theatre

★★★★

“striking, resonant, and beautifully performed”

The production welcomes us with an empty chair reminiscent of the Tube, newspapers on it, and white sheets hanging from the ceiling – a subtly evocative set designed by Emily King. A familiar playlist – indie rock blended with a touch of disco – drifts through the space. It’s the soundtrack of a year, of a life; instantly recognisable. A sense of familiarity settles over the room.

Written and performed by Oscar Brudenall-Jones, this one-man show invites us into the landscape of grief, guiding us through its seven stages as we accompany Aaron, our protagonist, on his train journey.

Aaron has stolen his father’s ashes, tucked into a Celebrations box, and is determined to take them to Cornwall, to scatter them in the sea at a place filled with their shared memories. Aaron is an entertainer by trade and by temperament: a vibrant presence brought to life through Brudenall-Jones’s quickfire impressions of both famous and obscure figures. This performer’s persona becomes a kind of refuge for Aaron, a protective shell he slips into whenever the emotional terrain becomes difficult to face. The narrative unfolds entirely on trains bound for Cornwall, a quietly powerful symbol of movement and transition. As Aaron travels, the stages of grief emerge through memories, re-enactments, and unexpected events along the way.

Under Esalan Gates’ direction, the piece employs a variety of theatrical techniques to enrich the storytelling. The hanging sheets are used inventively: at moments they become characters, at others a landscape, or even a silhouette through which new personas emerge. It’s an engaging, imaginative design choice that helps sustain energy and focus in a demanding solo performance. Lighting by Conor Costelloe, smoothly shifts from bright to shadowy, sometimes mirroring Aaron’s internal state, other times illuminating the turbulence he tries to contain.

Brudenall-Jones does a remarkable job maintaining pace and drawing us into Aaron’s imaginative world. At first, there is a stark distinction between his outward showmanship – his armour – and the tender, vulnerable self beneath it. As the journey progresses, these two selves begin to converge; the emotions he has been avoiding swell and can no longer be concealed.

At times the emotional beats are delivered quite explicitly, and in the early moments especially, a touch more space for audience interpretation might have heightened the impact.

The message of the piece lands with clarity, expressed through a rich mix of anecdotes, impersonations, and heartfelt storytelling that reveal the complexity of his character. Still, I found myself wanting to know more about Aaron’s father. Although the emotional arc is strongly communicated, the texture of their relationship, and the ways his father shaped him, felt only lightly sketched. The focus leans heavily into Aaron’s personality, sometimes spreading itself across so many stories and jokes that the central emotional thread risks thinning.

Where the show truly shines is in its moments of raw vulnerability, which are striking, resonant, and beautifully performed. The references to society, the modern world, and Covid-19 are thoughtful and well-woven, revealing a writer-performer with much to say and real talent in saying it. With a touch more simplicity in places, particularly in balancing the humour with the heart of the father-son bond, the piece might achieve an even deeper emotional coherence.

Even so, Maybe I Should Stop is a compelling, inventive exploration of grief, memory, and the winding routes we take to say goodbye.



MAYBE I SHOULD STOP

Drayton Arms Theatre

Reviewed on 20th November 2025

by Nasia Ntalla

Photography by Henry Roberts


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FELIXXX | ★★★★ | October 2025
FRESH KNICKERS (AND A GIN AND TONIC) | ★★ | October 2025
ROSENCRANTZ & GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD | ★★★ | June 2025
DICK | ★★★ | April 2025
SARAH QUAND MÊME | | February 2024

 

 

MAYBE I SHOULD STOP

MAYBE I SHOULD STOP

MAYBE I SHOULD STOP

VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

★★★

Jack Studio Theatre

VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

Jack Studio Theatre

★★★

“The cast does an admirable job of interpreting this unfamiliar work”

You’re probably unfamiliar with Oscar Wilde’s first play, ‘Vera; Or, The Nihilists’. Rarely performed after its 1883 premiere flopped catastrophically, I’m eager to see its first-ever London staging. This politically charged piece has revolutionary ambitions, tackling female empowerment, ideological corruption and the war on tyranny (how timely!). However, it fails to rally the troops, lacking Wilde’s signature sparkle and venturing into curious artistic terrain.

Vera Sabouroff, a young Russian peasant, is riled to revolution after a chance encounter with her brother, Dmitri, reveals he isn’t in Moscow studying law, but a Nihilist radical brutalised by the Czar’s tyrannical regime. Vera vows to avenge him, leaving with her father’s manservant, Michael, in tow. Fast forward five years and Vera is the Nihilists’ top lethal operative, tasked with assassinating the Czar. But when forbidden love sparks between Vera and her elusive comrade Alexis, duty and desire collide. Will the people win? Or will Vera betray her beliefs?

Cecilia Thoden van Velzen’s adaptation trims some of Wilde’s verbosity, allowing the epigrammatic wit he later became famous for to shine. A serious piece, there are still genuinely funny moments, such as a quip comparing diplomacy to salad making, and the Czar breaking the fourth wall to ‘smile’ at his people. Thoden van Velzen makes a smart call in introducing some commentary, with a disembodied narrator book-ending each act and reciting an epilogue which elucidates the play’s significance. Though the effect is a little spoiled by featuring said epilogue in the programme.

Another element I find curious is the decision to rewrite Wilde’s original ending. Instead of Vera being forced to choose between ideology and love, that decision is unceremoniously made by Michael, who has confessed he used to love her in the scene before. It completely changes the dynamic, erasing Vera’s willingness to die for her beliefs and suggesting a Chekhovian love triangle. Rather than letting Vera seize her progressive female agency, it’s ended by a (jealous?) man. As the first ever London staging, I question whether it’s necessary to tamper to such a degree.

Thoden van Velzen’s direction has moments of brilliance, such as loaded glances, shameless shrugs, and fourth wall breaks opening a window into the Czar’s troubled mind. However, the blocking needs work, Vera standing in profile or with her back to the audience a few too many times, and the cast getting a little lost amid the towering set pieces.

Thoden van Velzen’s sound design is spot on, with subtle effects and musical interludes perfectly complimenting the minimalist feel. The melancholy entry music, expertly timed window shot, and insistent clock chiming are all particularly effective.

Ruth Varela’s all-paper set and props build a world that feels authored and impermanent, doubling as a metaphor for power’s thin façade. However, the clumsy, clattering set changes, completed by the cast under full stage lights, breaks the believability and adds little when some structures move a mere few centimetres.

Anastasiia Glazova’s costumes evoke the period with a subtly modern flavour. Keeping Alexis in the same outfit emphasises his resolve and difference from his father.

The cast does an admirable job of interpreting this unfamiliar work. Jonathan Hansler is fantastic as both Czar and Vera’s father, revealing surprising depth and range. His initially Thénardier-esque Peter Sabouroff completely breaks when he recognises Dmitri; his Czar is terrifyingly unstable, volatile outbursts contrasting with icy coolness. George Airey’s Alexis brims with aristocratic ardour, at times petulant, others impassioned. Finn Samuels’ Michael completely transforms from tender youth to ruthless tactician, conveying much with just a look. Natasha Culzac does a decent job of Vera, though plays it a little safe, remaining more ingénue than insurgent.

You might not go wild for this production of ‘Vera; Or, The Nihilists’ but its messy history, magnetic performances and historic milestone make for a memorable experience.



VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS

Jack Studio Theatre

Reviewed on 20th September 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Henry Roberts


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HAVISHAM | ★★★ | March 2025
IN THE SHADOW OF HER MAJESTY | ★★★★★ | November 2024
CAN’T WAIT TO LEAVE | ★★★½ | November 2024
MARCELLA’S MINUTE TO MIDNIGHT | ★★ | September 2024
DEPTFORD BABY | ★★★ | July 2024
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING | ★★★ | August 2022

 

 

Vera

Vera

Vera