Lawrence Batley Theatre Archives - thespyinthestalls.com

★★★½

“touching and urgent”

Setting the stage with a deep abyss-like space looming behind a protest banner which stitches together protest messaging now richly associated with the 1980s LGBTQ+ rights movement, from the start, ‘Detention’ by Gary Clarke looks to be an urgent call to action which negotiates an eerily close then and now of queer liberation. What unravels is a dance-led retelling of haunting stories of working-class queer folks’ experiences fighting against, and ultimately living under, Section 28.

The piece is set to cerebral and heart-pounding soundscapes and voice overs which collide with the Narrator, played by Lewey Hellewell, who provides context, facts, and rallying cries to different sequences. The narration mostly provides a necessary emotional and informative thread between the chronology of events and the evocative stories the piece uncovers, but at times feels very on the nose. Largely projected words reading ‘Aids’, as well as various slurs and phrases, also lack subtly across mostly mesmerising choreographic episodes. These heavy-handed projected words take the audience out of the emotion and spoon-feed what they most likely can deduce from the intricate movement and staging of the overall performance. Film projections of a juddery and vexed Thatcher, played by El Perry, and a heart-to-heart from a teacher (Sarah Squires) afraid of what coming out at work might result in, work for much more thought-through audio-visual aids. More integration of film, multi-media, and historical materials like newspaper headlines, banners, and photographs, could make for a much rawer patchwork of theatre seeking to tell queer histories. This, coupled with Nia Wood, Chris Copland, and Keir Martin’s excellent execution of sound and lighting design, would make for a much more serious tone.

Though powerful and emotional messages of resistance and struggle cut through the noise, unfortunately ‘Detention’ somewhat faulters at delivering the urgence and importance of spotlighting the community it is voicing. The gorgeously designed blue costuming (by Hannah Boothman) of the House of Lords sequence, combined with electrifyingly slick choreography performed by Alexandra Bierlaire, Gavin Coward, Mayowa Ogunnaike, Alex Gosmere, and Imogen Wright, and underscored by Hellewell’s chilling delivery of anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric, highlights the real triumphs of what this piece can achieve. Furthermore, the almost teasing portrayal of demonised gay friendly children’s books also gave a fascinating angle to this part of Section 28’s harmful effects.

‘Detention’ does well to integrate LGBTQ+ Switchboard logbook stories into its narrative, carefully weaving the isolated, scared, and angry words of callers against a backdrop of tortured solo physical theatre. One drawback to these moments is the unwavering silence which each caller is met with, which perhaps draws a false message of inaction against vital listening and advice services. Further dialogue between or with call-handlers would provide a richer insight into the service’s history. It is also unfortunate that it seemed the only queer woman’s story represented through the Switchboard segments centred around motherhood and child custody. Enlightening further aspects of queer women’s struggles through Section 28, besides those relating to motherhood, would further enhance the show’s vision to tell an authentic story of a benchmark in queer British history.

Lastly, the inclusion of a local community cast affected by Section 28 in each place the piece is performed in is a beautiful aspect of ‘Detention’s’ mission. Community actors Steve Boodhun, Hedley Sugar-Wells, Tony Chapman-Wilson, Lindsay Nicholson, and Gary Short integrate brilliantly into the cast. The sincerity of stories and collaboration between the dancers and the community actors creates a touching and urgent driving home of the piece’s natural unifying message.

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Online via www.pictureofdoriangray.com

Reviewed – 12th March 2021

★★★★

“Set in a time of lockdown it is uncomfortably portentous, and it triggers the frightening thought that society might be stuck there”

When Oscar Wilde unleashed “The Picture of Dorian Gray” onto the world back in 1890, the Irish Times said it was ‘published to some scandal’ and the Daily Chronicle stated that it would ‘taint every young mind that comes in contact with it’. It is debatable whether Wilde courted such a reception, and it is difficult to imagine a similarly outraged reaction were it to be unveiled in today’s climate; but I’m sure he would have been proud of this modernised re-telling of the story. Not so much for the narrative itself but for the way it emulates the original’s intention to challenge the social mores of society. This production couldn’t be more up to date if it tried, as it cleverly tackles the pressures brought on by the growing obsession with our image. Our online image. The dusty attic with its decaying framed portrait has been replaced with the perfect pixels of selfies, and the Faustian pact for the flawless filter.

Written by Henry Filloux-Bennett and directed by Tamara Harvey it is a co-production between the Barn Theatre, Lawrence Batley Theatre, The New Wolsey Theatre, Oxford Playhouse and Theatr Clwyd: the team that brought us the equally ground-breaking “What A Carve Up!” last October. It treads a similar path, too, by wandering into the realms of docudrama – but with its finger right on the pulse. The story starts at a fund-raising event to support theatres during the pandemic; organised by Lady Narborough, brilliantly portrayed by Joanna Lumley. It is also Dorian’s twenty-first birthday party: the date is July 4th, 2020, the day when the first lockdown ended. Amongst the guests were four friends and we are tantalisingly informed that “within eight months, three of the four friends were dead”.

Lumley is being interviewed, via zoom, by Stephen Fry who is piecing together the series of events in retrospect. Lumley defensively primes Fry with the proviso that “if people are going to see this, I don’t want any come back”; an echo of Wilde’s contemporaries who began to disassociate themselves from him to avoid the fallout from the novel. What follows are echoes of the novel itself, resounding quite clearly and harmoniously within a wider polemic against the dark side of social media.

Fionn Whitehead is Dorian Gray, who makes a deal for his social star never to fade. For his perfect self that he broadcasts to the world to always remain. We all know the true, horrific cost of this will be unavoidably met, but it is the build-up to this that is as fascinating and exciting as the climax. Viewers who know nothing about the original story will be intrigued. Wilde aficionados will relish the anachronisms and twists. Most of the epigrams are there but they are given new and heightened meaning in Filloux-Bennett’s ingenious script. We also see the characters in a fresh light, and it is here that quite a few liberties are taken. As a result, though, the depth of some of the characters becomes a touch diluted. Many of Lord Henry (Harry) Wotton’s lines are given to Basil Hallward, the creator of the portrait, and vice versa. Whilst this serves to demonise Russell Tovey’s Basil to great effect, it relegates Harry Wotton’s role to more of a hanger-on than being instrumental in Dorian’s corruption. Alfred Enoch, however, gives a thoroughly nuanced performance that swings from devil-may-care bravado to owner of a bruised heart in a brush stroke.

The standout is Emma McDonald’s Sibyl Vane. Not so much a victim of Dorian’s murderous rejection, she instead suffers at the hands of internet trolls. McDonald has the star quality to allow us to believe fully in Sibyl’s star struck, vulnerability. We share her shock at the discovery of the potentially fatal power of social media networks; an unregulated battlefield of harassment and bullying. It is powerful viewing.

This production plants a classic Victorian tale into a modern world of fake news, conspiracy theories and obsession with how others see us. Set in a time of lockdown it is uncomfortably portentous, and it triggers the frightening thought that society might be stuck there. Dorian’s descent into corruption and unravelling mental health remains unwitnessed by the outside world. On screen, through the filter he has sold his soul for, he remains beautiful. But desperately alone.

Whilst never feeling like one, this is a state of the nation, public service broadcast, dressed up as a thought-provoking piece of digital theatre. If Wilde were around today it is exactly the sort of thing he would be exploring.

DETENTION

Northern Stage

★★★½

“touching and urgent”

DETENTION

Northern Stage

Reviewed on 16th September 2025

by Molly Knox

Photography by Joe Armitage

Previously reviewed by Molly:

DETENTION

DETENTION

DETENTION

Reviewed – 12th March 2021

★★★★

“Set in a time of lockdown it is uncomfortably portentous, and it triggers the frightening thought that society might be stuck there”

Whilst never feeling like one, this is a state of the nation, public service broadcast, dressed up as a thought-provoking piece of digital theatre. If Wilde were around today it is exactly the sort of thing he would be exploring.

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

The Picture of Dorian Gray

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