Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

ONE JAB CURES ALL

★★★★

Theatre at the Tabard

ONE JAB CURES ALL

Theatre at the Tabard

★★★★

“a wonderful antidote to the long winter nights”

It’s the ultimate medical breakthrough. Two scientists have discovered the ‘Wonder Jab’; the universal cure for everything. Although on the surface they look and behave as though they can’t tell a test tube from a jam jar. The whole thing looks rather dodgy. Dr Max (Rob Pomfret) and his ice-maiden boss, Dr Judy (Sophie Mackall), are holed up in what looks like an under-funded basement laboratory. Alice Carroll’s stark set suggests covert, subterranean mischief where oxygen and ethics are thin on the ground.

Instead, though, the air is thick with satire and chaotic humour in Lloyd Evans’ new play, “One Jab Cures All”. Max and Judy are on the cusp of fame and are grappling with what it all means – for themselves and for the world. We don’t know how they discovered this miracle cure. But then again, neither do they. What we do know is that they intend to administer it via chocolate mini-rolls and cake (watch out for the Victoria sponge that triggers all sorts of shenanigans like Chekhov’s Gun). A press conference is imminent, but the couple are at loggerheads about how to tell their story to the world; even though it has already been leaked by the Russians, who apparently funded and under-tested the research.

Judy sees dollar signs and wants to privately sell it to the rich and powerful elite – the billionaires and the illuminati. Max, on the other hand, wants it to be distributed, free, for everyone. If they keep it a secret, they’ll make millions of pounds. If they share it, they’ll save millions of lives. It is a global contradiction, played out in a tiny space. Director Matthew Parker skilfully steers his cast around the confines of the stage, blending well the slapstick with the biting dialogue. Like the protagonists who mix their chemicals with gay abandon, the result is unpredictable, if not quite explosive. Into the mix wander Max’s teenage daughter Felicity (Lauren Whitehill) and junior researcher Vic (Jay Warn). Loyalties are ripped apart. Felicity and Vic are pulled together while Judy and Max are polar opposites. Attraction and repulsion are equal forces here, and the messy magnetism of the performances draw us in.

There is a heightened theatricality to the characters that, because of their many layers, avoids caricature. Each cast member captures their inconsistencies with a natural understanding of the humour and absurdity of the human condition. Pomfret is the humanitarian with loose morals, a devoted single dad who likes to keep the babysitter warm on winter nights. Judy is a hard nut who melts under flattery, and Mackall nimbly presents vanity as vulnerability. Like all, she is just looking for love. Warn’s Vic is quirky and nerdy but loveably real while Whitehill is a ball of innocent, scatty and funny energy.

In lockdown, many people were, understandably, concerned about the speed with which the vaccines were rolled out. An over explored and over discussed premise, but Evans mirrors the theme with originality and freshness. There is a fair amount of meandering into subplots and shoe-horned subtexts. Lengthy discussions about family, marriage, love and ageing, for example, sludge the narrative in places and the intermittent lack of focus detracts from the main thread. Yet the gentle zigzagging does lead to some finely executed twists. A little less clunkiness in the physical comedy would get us there with fewer stumbles on the journey.

“One Jab Cures All” is a wonderful antidote to the long winter nights. An eccentric tale of medicine, money, morals and miracles. It goes down with more than a spoonful of sugar and the only side effects that you need to worry about are a few extra laughter lines.



ONE JAB CURES ALL

Theatre at the Tabard

Reviewed on 15th January 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

 

 

 

 

 

ONE JAB CURES ALL

ONE JAB CURES ALL

ONE JAB CURES ALL

TWELFTH NIGHT

★★★★

Barbican

TWELFTH NIGHT

Barbican

★★★★

“There are many moments of light and silliness in this production”

When Feste – the fool attached to Olivia’s household – hangs upside down from the rafters, crooning as though in an after-hours jazz club; while Orsino is draped across a grand piano ten feet below him, you know you’re in for a “Twelfth Night” with a difference. Feste is less the sword of Damocles, but more Cupid’s arrow, if only he wouldn’t spend so much time clowning around. Played by Michael Grady-Hall, he weaves himself in and out of each of the play’s storylines as though he’s at the circus. Even during the interval, he plays Catch with the audience.

Yet he stops short of making this the ‘Feste Show’. Directed by Prasanna Puwanarajah, this eccentrically stylised production reveals how strong an ensemble piece it is. While Feste feels the need to fix everyone’s problems, they all seem to be getting on with it fine anyway. And relishing the opportunity. The sense of mourning and melancholy that introduces the story is reliant on the music more than the characters. Whether it is composer Matt Maltese’s jazzy piano accompaniments or the imposing pipe organ that periodically dominates James Cotterill’s outlandish sets, the tunes and refrains are what trigger the emotions. Ragtime accompanies the boisterous, boozy, behind-the-scenes shenanigans of Sir Toby and company. The same melody, slowed down for the organ, reflects the themes of lost and confused love that the protagonists are grappling with.

Daniel Monks’ Orsino is a velvet-clad playboy. A bachelor who prefers others to do his lustful bidding for him. Continually rejected by Olivia, his heart’s desire, he conveys a parallel growing affection for Cesario, his newly acquired manservant (the shipwrecked Viola in disguise). The same homoeroticism is more than hinted at between Olivia and Cesario/Viola. Gwyneth Keyworth embraces Olivia’s contradictions: resilient and practical yet vulnerable and easily infatuated. Continually dropping hints that he/she isn’t who she really is, Olivia pursues him/her anyway, perhaps not really caring too much about the gender. Freema Agyeman is a striking and versatile Olivia. Forcefully charismatic and sultry, and also playfully swinging between offended gravitas and excited sensuality.

Samuel West shines as Malvolio, austere one moment until duped into shaking his tail feathers for Olivia. Hilarious in his stockings, garters and broad smile. Yet when the game is up, his final exit is ultimately moving. Joplin Sibtain’s Sir Toby Belch is like an untrained hound while Danielle Henry’s Maria is his handler. As Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Demetri Goritsas is an all-shook-up, Americanised mix of Stan Laurel and Hugh Laurie.

Puwanarajah’s playful approach often detracts from the true emotion, but our attention never wanders and, among the mix of styles, small details are mischievously slipped in – like “Chekhov’s tramp”. A wandering vagrant or police officer may cross the stage for no apparent reason. A painter and decorator will be seen working away on nobody-knows-what. There are many moments of light and silliness in this production. It is a play that sets out amid grief, mourning and tragedy on its stylish journey towards celebration and unity, with some unexpected steps on the way. Occasional ad-libbing, along with scripted anachronisms, reference the festive season. We leave the theatre with a warm spring in our step. A joyous and heart-tugging production.



TWELFTH NIGHT

Barbican

Reviewed on 16th December 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Murray


 

 

 

 

TWELFTH NIGHT

TWELFTH NIGHT

TWELFTH NIGHT