★★★

“Beautiful language comes together with dark fantasies to create a relatable and comedic story”

Looking for Giants is a show about obsessions, fantasies and pure thrill. Three different men invade the narrator’s life. The setting changes, but the situation doesn’t. Excitement, potential, inevitable let down, then repeat. Isn’t that what life is about though? The people that swoop in and change your life forever? All the marks they leave on you, while you try to make sense of something that will never make perfect sense? Because human relationships are too complicated for that.

Our protagonist, or narrator, is an undergraduate student. A very vulnerable age where the threshold of adulthood, with all the freedom and terror it brings with it, looms ahead. On a stage that has only the essentials, a chair and a mic stand, Abby McCann comes in and starts sharing her innermost fantasies. Little by little, we notice a pattern unravelling, in a way that makes the storytelling feel almost like a raw confession. Firstly, there is the university tutor, who appears to be indifferent, but still somehow pulls her in and makes her want to go to sort of battle against him. Secondly, an older man on a dating app, which prompts a purely sexual chain of interactions through texts. Thirdly, a university student who, after a long time of teasing, turns into a mere fantasy of what could have been. All of them excite her and tickle her imagination to the point of turning her world upside down. But in the end, she stands in front of us to point out that it’s the emotional whirlwind that matters to her. She’s not bitter nor does she feel rejected. She ponders on what came before and is filled with adrenaline at the thought of what will come next.

The male and female dynamic is important to note, how the female narrator keeps putting herself on a lower, even weaker position compared to her male love interests. One could say it’s intentional, a conscious preference; other could argue it’s too much of a coincidence to be unrelated to how society enforces the image of women as the submissive beings, in a sexual and not sexual way. But there’s no denying that the thrill of the unknown, or rather the barely known, can be relatable outside of any gender discussions.

Skylar Turnbull Hurd’s lighting design playfully highlights parts of the conversations the protagonist has with the male characters of her stories. At times, it get confusing and almost chaotic, though not to the point of distracting us from what’s happening onstage. The mic creates an interesting layer and distinction between the different characters, while the rest of the sound design, by Sarah Spencer, is minimal and to the point.

Abby McCann, who is also the dramaturg of the show, doesn’t let the daunting nature of performing unaccompanied stop her from bringing some wonderful energy and colour to the character. Along with writer and director Cesca Echlin, they could have dug deeper to let the character’s risky and edgy personality shine even more.

It’s an intriguing play that doesn’t leave anything to the audience’s imagination. Beautiful language comes together with dark fantasies to create a relatable and comedic story, even if its explosive and thrilling nature could be accentuated more.

LADY MONTAGU UNVEILED

King’s Head Theatre

★★★

“The dramatic flatness, occasionally cut through with histrionics, and amplified by dance and music, has a cumulative and hypnotic effect, given time.”

Open the lid of this gem-speckled music box and you find a white-gowned Lady Montagu twirling like a punk ballerina.

This tumbling, cavorting biography, held in place by intriguing actor Thesy Surface is bold, although not always successful. It tries to accomplish two things, bids for them with varying degrees of success, and ultimately creates a third thing, which is perhaps more interesting.

Firstly, as the title suggests, Surface, under the direction of Julia Sopher, wants to tell the story of 18th century proto-feminist and rebel Lady Montagu (1689–1762), an English aristocrat and writer. She was an early advocate for smallpox inoculation and, with her sharp wit and outspoken opinions, she caused a scandal by defying social norms.

Her travels to the Ottoman Empire as the wife of the British ambassador led to a string of letters, which provided a candid and often critical view of both Ottoman and English aristocracy.

Her unconventional lifestyle, outspoken nature, sexual liberation and sharp critiques of gender inequality cemented her reputation as both a trailblazer and a controversial figure. In an age of reason, she was unreasonableness itself.

Secondly, and most disastrously, the production wants us – the “Islington woke brigade” – to view this life through modern eyes. This works well when there is a dramatic purpose – exchanging text messages with Alexander Pope for example. But it is clunkingly awful when hammered into place with blunt rivets.

Asking for the wifi password in a Turkish coffee house, suggesting Mozart might be the new Taylor Swift, declaring Aristocrats Lives Matter and endless other equivalents are all delivered with little nudges and winks. See what I did there? She was an influencer! The polite-only titters from the audience suggests, yes, we get it. Move on please. An exorcism of the funnies would also help clear up the tonal confusion which throws the first quarter. This is not a comedy. Not being funny is the clue.

However, a third alchemic element emerges from this tumult. The mad canter through a life too eventful to be told in 75 minutes does succeed in creating a sort of hypnotic kaleidoscope of shifting and glimmering shards.

The dramatic flatness, occasionally cut through with histrionics, and amplified by dance and music, has a cumulative and hypnotic effect, given time.

If, on the point of death, you review your life, it’s possible this is the preferred format – sequential, yes, but without topography and reference, without anecdote or back story, like a vodka fuelled hallucination or fever dream. Life, told this way, is not a purposeful continuum with neon signs pointing out the important episodes but a series of disorientating and cascading fragments that briefly coalesce to create, if not sense, then the brief consolation of beauty.

Thesy Surface’s reach may exceed her grasp but there’s plenty of artistic invention and belief here. Lady Montagu, with all her wanton hedonism, taste for exotica and dismissal of convention, would have applauded.

LOOKING FOR GIANTS

King’s Head Theatre

★★★

“Beautiful language comes together with dark fantasies to create a relatable and comedic story”

LOOKING FOR GIANTS

King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed on 16th January 2025

by Stephanie Christodoulidou

Photography by WoodForge Studios

Previously reviewed at this venue:

LOOKING FOR GIANTS

LOOKING FOR GIANTS

LOOKING FOR GIANTS

LADY MONTAGU UNVEILED

King’s Head Theatre

★★★

“The dramatic flatness, occasionally cut through with histrionics, and amplified by dance and music, has a cumulative and hypnotic effect, given time.”