Tag Archives: Louise Sibley

THE REVLON GIRL

★★★★★

Park Theatre

THE REVLON GIRL

Park Theatre

★★★★★

“a moving, beautifully acted and unexpectedly warm piece of theatre”

On 21 October 1966 a colliery tip above the Welsh village of Aberfan slid down the mountainside, engulfing the junior school and a row of houses. In all, 144 people died, 116 of them children and 28 adults. Because the school lay directly in the path of the slide, it is the loss of the children that has come to define the disaster in the public mind. But adults died too, and whole families were shattered.

Sixty years on, Neil Anthony Docking’s The Revlon Girl returns to the Park Theatre, where it made its London debut in 2017, and proves that grief handled with this much honesty does not date. Based on real events, it is set eight months after the disaster in a room above the Aberfan Hotel, where bereaved mothers meet every Tuesday to talk, cry and laugh without guilt. Aware that others might judge them frivolous, they secretly invite a Revlon representative to give them beauty tips. She arrives with a suitcase of cosmetics, quite unprepared for what she has walked into.

The premise could easily have slid into sentimentality. It never does. Maxine Evans, who directed the original production, trusts the audience with the tragedy and never underlines it. The loss is felt in every pause and sudden shift of mood, all the more devastating for being so lightly worn.

The design is just as restrained. A dark, bare hall starkly echoes the emotional backdrop, and at its centre stands a staircase that is never used. It may recall the hill itself, or perhaps the long uphill road the women must climb to come to terms with their loss. The only movement comes from Sian’s clacking high heels and febrile arranging and rearranging of the chairs, a nervous ritual that tells us more about her than any speech could.

What is remarkable about Docking’s play is that it is also very funny. In a way that never jars or sounds offbeat, the women snipe, tease and puncture each other’s pretensions. These moments of levity make the grief land harder. At the heart of the play are their different ways of grieving. They cannot agree on how to mourn, or whether loss permits lipstick, and the Revlon visit forces those differences into the open.

Every performance is strong. Charlotte Gray, reprising Sian, supports and encourages the group with warmth and generosity, until her own need breaks through. Her smiling exterior disintegrates as she finally declares why being attractive matters so much to her, and it is the evening’s most shattering moment. Antonia Kinlay, also returning as the Revlon girl, begins as a polite and somewhat stiif outsider with a case of samples. Her revelation late in the play becomes the catalyst that lets the women accept one another and their different ways of coping. Llinos Daniel (Jean), Hedydd Dylan (Maralyn) and Mirain Haf Roberts (Rona), newly cast in their roles, complete a flawless ensemble in which no glance or line is wasted.

At eighty minutes without an interval, the play is tightly built and never outstays its welcome. This is a moving, beautifully acted and unexpectedly warm piece of theatre, and a fitting tribute in this anniversary year.


THE REVLON GIRL

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 28th October 2026

by Louise Sibley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE REVLON GIRL

THE REVLON GIRL

THE REVLON GIRL

THE REVLON GIRL

LONG AFTER THE LABYRINTH

★★★

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

LONG AFTER THE LABYRINTH

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

★★★

“a muscular play with strong storytelling and an important message”

From the history of horror and trauma suffered by European Jews through the Second World War comes a piece that many of us know little about.

In May 1941 Germany bombed, invaded and then occupied Crete. In Long After the Labyrinth we look at the impact on the island’s Romaniote Jews, who settled there some 2,300 years ago and who at the time of the occupation numbered in the hundreds.

Writer Jonathan D’Young and director Ramon Ayres have taken this start point to create a fictional narrative following the fortunes, before, during and after the war, of a young Jewish girl, Rena. She is hidden when her people are rounded up, escaping deportation but losing her entire birth family when they are shipped away by boat.

This is a complex and poignant piece, interweaving the ancient history of Crete and the Labyrinth with Rena’s lived experience of psychological trauma. The Minotaur of the ancient myths becomes a metaphor for the horror and rage that never entirely leaves her.

An impressive list of collaborators, including The Ancient Peace Studies Network and NMT Automatics, has helped bring Rena’s story to life. On what I assume was a minimal budget, the team make highly creative use of lighting, music, projections and screens. This last takes the form of an unmissable curtain that almost deserves to be cited as a cast member, helping us shift time and place, and enter, at points, the labyrinth itself.

Genevieve Dunne plays Rena in a standout performance, growing from early childhood to old woman. Her versatility and emotional range hold everything together. This matters because, although she is supported by a highly able cast (Leonie Hill, Harry Lukakis and Noah Young) who take on the multiple parts, the changes of roles can hover on the edge of confusion. Mostly sufficient distinction in their performances avoids the trap.

There is no avoiding the fact that this drama has an agenda: to explore trauma and the difficulty of achieving personal peace long after external peace has been declared. It uses an interesting mix of ancient and modern to do so. The result is some over-writing and creative excess. The narrative is a little too long for comfort and relies on audience familiarity with history.

That said, it is a muscular play with strong storytelling and an important message about peacebuilding, worth seeing for Dunne’s performance and the inventiveness of the creative team.


LONG AFTER THE LABYRINTH

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Reviewed on 23rd October 2026

by Louise Sibley

Photography by Inigo Woodham-Smith

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LONG AFTER THE LABYRINTH

LONG AFTER THE LABYRINTH

LONG AFTER THE LABYRINTH

LONG AFTER THE LABYRINTH