Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

SPECULATIONS

★★★

Marylebone Theatre

SPECULATIONS

Marylebone Theatre

★★★

“There is plenty of room for animated speculation in the bar after the show”

Speculation is currently a bit of a buzz word. We often hear, in news reports or press conferences, the request to the public not to speculate until a particular story or case has accrued more solid evidence. This is not a modern development, however. Before social media, these ‘speculations’ would take place in cafes or bars, and even investigative journalists’ living rooms. This is the premise behind Torben Betts’ political thriller that centres on Dorothy Kilgallen’s theories around the deaths of Marilyn Monroe, John F. Kennedy and Lee Harvey Oswald. The programme notes emphatically tell us that the columnist turned muckraker, Kilgallen (played by Janie Dee), was ‘not a speculator’. Yet over the next two hours, that is precisely what she comes across as. As the play progresses, Dee’s portrayal strips the certainty away from the character, exposing the harsh truth that conspiracy theories are, and have always been, an intrinsic aspect of humanity.

It opens with a threatening phone call from an unknown source, establishing a sense of unease and paranoia. Kilgallen is about to publish an exposé of the alleged distortion of the circumstances behind the three deaths. In her jittery state she is interrupted by the entrance of Flo Jackson, a young aspiring journalist sidelining as a childminder (or perhaps vice versa). She does little childminding, but Gloria Obianyo’s Flo is an engaging presence, despite the implausibility. Equipped with her own strongly held views – especially on civil rights – Flo is partially reduced to the role of sounding board for Kilgallen’s narrative. Director Trevor Nunn cleverly sets two plays within the play, smoothly facilitated by Lee Newby’s set which revolves and swings to reveal the locations. This filmic approach neatly transports us into flashback territory in which we witness, first hand, Kilgallen’s speculations in dramatic form.

Marilyn Monroe (Natalie Dunne) receives a visit from Robert F. Kennedy (Jolyon Coy) who rather desperately, and repeatedly, demands her to relinquish her incriminating diaries. “Over my dead body” retorts Marilyn with artless dramatic irony. Meanwhile, in the second scenario, Lee Harvey Oswald (Joseph Potter) is groomed by New Orleans crime boss Carlos Marcello (Ferdy Roberts) into becoming the required killing machine for his revenge on the Kennedy clan. Connections are forged between the two storylines, and there are interesting insights into the complicated underworld that rippled the US Senate’s organised crime committee, but these retrospective scenes seem to run on a loop with little added on each repeat.

The performances are all convincing, even if their lines are less so. There is no sense of danger as Bobby Kennedy becomes more desperate to silence Monroe; more in the vein of a teenage lover than a powerful Attorney General. Consequently, it doesn’t do justice to the real-life personas (incidentally Flo is the only fictional character in the piece), eroding the audience’s belief in the central character of Kilgallen. Lee Harvey Oswald and Carlos Marcello fare better, yet their scenes comprise a rather sedentary portrait that avoids thrills or intrigue.

The play seeks to examine the perils of delving to deeply into the lives of the powerful and the dangerous. And how the political and the criminal world overlap. This danger finds its way into Dorothy Kilgallen’s living room – quite literally with a brick through the window at one point. Yet the real sense of threat doesn’t follow suit. We don’t expect fresh answers – we never will know for sure – but the questions raised are not really illuminated under a new light. It is not without satisfaction, however, and there is plenty of room for animated speculation in the bar after the show.


SPECULATIONS

Marylebone Theatre

Reviewed on 4th November 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Maybanks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SPECULATIONS

SPECULATIONS

SPECULATIONS

SPECULATIONS

ALMOST, MAINE

★★★★

OSO Arts Centre

ALMOST, MAINE

OSO Arts Centre

★★★★

“a gorgeously succinct comment on the nature of human connection”

“The farthest you can be away from somebody is when you’re sitting right next to them”. So says Pete (Drew Cleveland) during the prologue of John Cariani’s play “Almost, Maine”. It is a line that is interpreted figuratively and directly simultaneously, and that epitomises the next two hours. Cariani’s series of nine vignettes blends the literal with the absurd with generous sprinklings of magic, whimsy, poignancy, humour and truth. Pete demonstrates his aphorism with a snowball – which represents the earth – instructing Ginette (Sarah Thorn) to walk away from him. Every step she takes, he cries “closer!”. We’ll come back to that, but in the meantime, we have just witnessed a gorgeously succinct comment on the nature of human connection.

There are nineteen characters who are in some way connected. Ordinary people (on the surface) in the small town of ‘Almost’, Maine. Alice Kim’s set design is a crisp, glacial backdrop. A blank canvas upon which these stories are told. White crates, like the icy building blocks of an igloo, are manoeuvred to form the various locations. We wander into them adrift but never lost: signposts direct us from one scene to the next, with playfully abstract titles. Each scene is individually quirky but the play’s huge heart beats through them all, binding them together. Lydia Sax’s direction wonderfully maintains the rhythm throughout, creating a pulse that feeds into each sketch, even extending into the choreographed transitions. We cannot help but follow this motley crew of characters on their flights of fancy.

The beauty is in the writing and he performances. The surreal becomes perfectly natural and vice versa. Maurii Davenport, as Glory, carries the pieces of her broken heart in a bag, whereas in another scene Ben Elliott’s clueless Steve cannot feel pain. There is a bar where drinks are free if you are sad. Andre Bullock’s melancholic Jimmy is one such customer. Almost. Most of the characters discover something life affirming, yet not all the tales have a happy ending. There is a gorgeous bitter-sweet flavour to the evening which serves up laughter and tears in equal measure. Madeline Pell, as Marci, has misplaced resentment as she loses her grip on romance. The performers all double, even treble. Davenport re-emerges as Hope, who ironically has her hopes not so much dashed but downright killed. A moving portrayal of someone who is given a little less air to breathe every day. Joel Horwood is Phil who can fix things, even hearts turned to stone; then later he is a delightfully goofy, amateur surrealist Dave. You have to trick the painting – let it know you’re not looking, and only then will you see it. This offbeat way of viewing life informs the writing. Erica Schoebinger, as a tough, defensive Rhonda, eventually melts and comes round to this way of thinking.

There is massive scope to get caught in a drift of sentimentality, but Cariani’s writing avoids it with humour and ingenuity. And preposterously clever metaphors. A truckload of love messily bagged up and returned to sender. Shards of slate are tangible splinters of grief. But then again life’s universal, great metaphor – that of “falling” in love – is given the literal treatment in a scene that verges on slapstick (let’s hope there’s a supply of bruise cream in the dressing room).

None of this would be realisable without sensitive, nuanced and skilled performances; and the cast of eight certainly deliver, sharing the workload as they weave their magic through the scenarios. The action takes place as the Northern Lights appear at night. Each vignette heralds a moment when time stands still, before we rewind the clock and visit another oddball couple. Gabriel Burns’ lighting meets the magic halfway, creating only a hint of the aurora, requiring our imagination and mood to complete the picture. But suspend your disbelief and you will wallow in the richness of these portraits. The feelgood factor alone can light up the sky. The disorganised and – let’s face it – weird town of ‘Almost’ may not exist, but its inhabitants do. All around us, in some form or another. This show shows us that we are capable of going around the world for love. We are not walking away but, in fact, getting closer. We can rise as well as fall, and if we lose in love, we win something else. “Almost, Maine’ is a real winner. You’ll fall for it. Completely… not almost.


ALMOST, MAINE

OSO Arts Centre

Reviewed on 🎃 31st October 2026 🎃

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Jake Bush

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ALMOST, MAINE

ALMOST, MAINE

ALMOST, MAINE

ALMOST, MAINE