★★★★

“performances that are magnetic and unsettling”

Don’t let the short running time fool you. Private View is a rich, emotionally and intellectually rewarding play. Jess Edwards charts a Sapphic relationship from the first flicker of attraction into far more complicated territory where differences in age, experience, wealth and status continually reshape the balance of power. It is clever, unsettling writing that refuses simple answers. Annie Kershaw’s lean, precise direction heightens the tension and keeps the momentum taut. The two women are never named; in the programme they appear simply as A and B.

A, played by Patricia Allison, is 23, a PhD student in physics and philosophy. B describes her as “luminous” when they first meet and the production leans into that with bright, tight-fitting fast-fashion pieces that amplify her freshness and immediacy. Allison’s performance, though, gives A something deeper. She is quick, curious and immediately engaging. Her speech fizzes with youthful energy, full of unfinished thoughts, yet when she talks about her research it becomes crisp, focused and passionate. Edwards’ writing creates a deliberate tension between her scientific confidence and her emotional newness, particularly as she experiences queer desire for the first time. Her youth and beauty give her fleeting leverage, even a sharpness that borders on cruelty, but she remains vulnerable beneath it.

B, played by Stefanie Martini, is 38 and an established photographer whose work sells for high prices. Martini’s early scenes give her a composed, articulate confidence, someone used to being the older and steadier presence. The costuming reinforces this with well-chosen natural fibres and subtle luxury, the kind of quietly expensive wardrobe that signals success without drawing attention to itself. As the play unfolds, cracks appear: the history of alcoholism, past failures and a hungry obsessiveness toward A that becomes harder to disguise. Edwards gives B advantages in age, experience and money and Martini reinforces these through precise gestures and controlled posture, although a nervous need to be liked and wanted keeps breaking through. But that authority is never fixed. It flickers, unravels, reforms. The shifting power between A and B becomes one of Private View’s sharpest tools and both actors handle those turns with nuance.

The play traces their relationship with close and often uncomfortable detail. Desire intensifies, old wounds rise to the surface and what begins with seductive ease becomes something far more tangled. Their flirtation with dominance and submission adds heat in the bedroom but also destabilises everything outside it. Differences in class, age and emotional history complicate every moment, making their connection alluring one second and unnerving the next. Edwards keeps the question of control open which is precisely what gives the piece its bite.

Allison and Martini rise to the show’s demands with performances that are magnetic and unsettling. Allison’s openness makes A instantly appealing while Martini’s measured exterior hides something sharper and more volatile. Their chemistry is charged, unpredictable and occasionally difficult to watch.

Kershaw’s direction keeps the atmosphere tightly coiled without ever overplaying it. Ingrid Mackinnon’s movement and intimacy work gives weight to the smallest shifts in breath, posture and space. Catja Hamilton’s lighting moves between warmth and stark clarity, including a striking sequence in near darkness that recalls B’s photographic practice. Georgia Wilmot’s sparse set and carefully considered costume design reinforce the piece’s study of difference, desire and instability. Scene changes, achieved through shifts in body language, posture and lighting, carry a dry wit that keeps the pace alive.

By the end, the initial thrill between A and B has thickened into something claustrophobic. Private View shows with unsettling precision how desire, power and coercion can twist together until they are impossible to separate. Intelligent, stylish and quietly disturbing, it is a compelling study of a relationship folding in on itself and leaving little room to breathe.

BRIGADOON

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★

“The music and dance are the highlights, stylishly adding extra layers of the story onto the dialogue”

Lerner and Loewe’s “Brigadoon” hasn’t been performed in London for over thirty-five years, and the word, from some quarters, seems to be that there must be a reason for this. In short, though, Drew McOnie’s magical interpretation at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre is a strong counterargument as to why it is definitely high time for a revival. Adapted and (kind of) updated by Rona Munro it almost makes sense of its impossibly whimsical narrative but, and goes along with it, creating an enchanting mix of music, dance and drama. We are swept up into the fantasy of it all, which in itself is quite a feat. It is the sort of plot that, if closely analysed, the holes picked in it would cause it to collapse completely.

The echoing sound of a big drum kicks off the evening, followed by haunting bagpipes. Basia Bińkowska’s multi-levelled, lush and heather-wrapped set merges into the park’s natural background. Two American fighter pilots appear over the brow of the hill. The romantically inclined Tommy (Louis Gaunt) is wounded while the more down-to-earth Jeff (Cavan Clarke) is rather unsuccessfully trying to get their bearings. They have literally dropped out of the sky and according to their map they appear to be nowhere. From this ‘nowhere’, however, the village of Brigadoon appears out of… well… nowhere. We have no alternate but to suspend our disbelief – the effect is quite intoxicating as we are surrounded by the glorious harmonies of the villagers. McOnie’s choreography is beautifully balletic, yet it somehow belongs to the world of Scottish reels and bagpipes too.

Brigadoon only exists for one day every one hundred years, thanks to a divine spell cast by the local minister two hundred years previously to protect it from the outside world. The townsfolk are forbidden to leave, otherwise the village would disappear forever. An outsider can only stay if they fall in love with a local, so strongly enough that they are prepared to give up everything for their love; ‘…after all, laddie, if ye love someone deeply, anythin’ is possible!’. The pilots spend pretty much all of act one unaware of this phenomenon, but when they discover it, have quite different reactions. This is very much a fairy tale, but also a love story burning away at its heart, with enough shades of darkness to prevent it from being too honey dewed.

The music and dance are the highlights, stylishly adding extra layers of the story onto the dialogue. Occasionally the movement is extraneous but always spectacular, held together by musical director Laura Bangay’s twelve-piece orchestra that mixes the traditional with the contemporary. The ensemble is just as vital as the lead players who generously never pull focus from the energy that floods the stage. Gaunt’s performance is quite believable (even if his story isn’t) in his depiction of an unwavering belief in love, that is also prone to moments of self-doubt, while Clarke’s pragmatic Jeff challenges but also accommodates his co-pilots idiosyncrasies, culminating in a deeply moving finale. The excellent Georgina Onuorah gives intensity and grace to Tommy’s love interest Fiona, while Nic Myers’ flirty Meg teases with, and confuses, Jeff with uncertain sex appeal. Jasmine Jules Andrews and Gilli Jones, as the newlyweds Jean and Charlie, are an enchanting couple. Danny Nattrass, as the tragic, lovesick Harry, matches an agile personality with a true talent for dance. Like the entire cast, the movement clearly defines the emotions and intentions of the characters.

All set against Jessica Hung Han Yun’s mystically atmospheric lighting, the evening is a delight throughout. The sumptuous score is at once familiar, yet fresh, with favourites such as ‘Almost Like Being in Love’, ‘The Love of My Life’ and ‘There but for You Go I’ sealing the message. It is a glorious tribute to the power of love. Like the unwitting co-pilots who wander into Brigadoon, we cannot fail to be moved and entertained by this production. It is unashamed escapism, but once we’re hooked, we don’t want to escape it.

PRIVATE VIEW

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“performances that are magnetic and unsettling”

PRIVATE VIEW

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 2nd December 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Ciara Robinson

Previously reviewed at Soho Theatre venues:

PRIVATE VIEW

PRIVATE VIEW

PRIVATE VIEW

BRIGADOON

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★

“The music and dance are the highlights, stylishly adding extra layers of the story onto the dialogue”

BRIGADOON

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewed on 12th August 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Senior

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

BRIGADOON

BRIGADOON

BRIGADOON</h3

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