Tag Archives: Marc Brenner

THE BFG

★★★★

Chichester Festival Theatre

THE BFG

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★★

“a production designed to entertain while celebrating imagination, dreams and friendship”

A young girl, a lonely giant and a world of dreams collide in this imaginative stage version of The BFG. Adapted by Tom Wells with additional material by Jenny Worton, the production brings Roald Dahl’s beloved story to the stage with a blend of puppetry, theatrical ingenuity and mischievous humour.

The story centres on Sophie, an orphan troubled by sleepless nights, who encounters the Big Friendly Giant during one of his midnight wanderings. Swept away to Giant Country, Sophie (Martha Bailey Vine) gradually realises that her captor, the BFG (John Leader), is not like the other giants who roam the world in search of children to devour. Instead he spends his nights collecting dreams and survives on the resolutely inedible snozzcumber. As Sophie begins to understand the scale of the threat posed by the other giants, including the blustering Bloodbottler (Richard Riddell), the unlikely pair devise a plan to stop them, one that ultimately involves soliciting the help of the Queen (Helena Lymbery).

Directed by Daniel Evans, the production places its emphasis on theatrical storytelling. The first half takes a little time to find its momentum as it establishes the world of giants and dreams, but once past this scene-setting the show settles into a livelier rhythm. Much of its charm lies in an inventive play with scale and perspective, using props, video and puppetry to evoke a world shared by giants and humans. From the magical doll’s house orphanage to lantern-like silhouettes of London landmarks and the decidedly unappetising snozzcumbers, the design constantly toys with proportion.

Central to this approach is the use of both human performers and puppet versions of characters to emphasise scale. The puppetry, designed and directed by Toby Olié with co-designers Daisy Beattie and Seb Mayer, provides a clever theatrical solution to the story’s shifting perspectives. It works particularly well in scenes between Sophie and the BFG. At times it becomes a little confusing, particularly when both puppet and human versions appear on stage together without an obvious narrative reason, but it remains an imaginative response to the story’s visual challenges.

At its centre is John Leader as the BFG. Balancing physical performance with the puppet’s presence, Leader brings awkward humour alongside a gentler melancholy, capturing the character’s mixture of innocence and quiet resilience. Sophie, played on press night by Martha Bailey Vine, captures the character’s blend of curiosity, vulnerability and determination. Helena Lymbery brings comic authority to the Queen, moving from a lonely monarch attended by her butler Tibbs (Sargon Yelda) to a decisive problem-solver once Sophie and the BFG arrive at Buckingham Palace. Philip Labey and Luke Sumner are particularly funny as the Queen’s guards, Captain Smith and Captain Frith, their elaborate moustaches becoming a running gag that lands equally well in both human and puppet form. Richard Riddell relishes the brutish swagger of the Bloodbottler, while Sophie’s friend Kimberley is played on press night by Uma Patel, bringing warmth and charm to the role and ending the play with a delightful sense of wonder, celebrating both her and the audience’s love of the magical.

The visual world is shaped by designer Vicki Mortimer, whose set moves fluidly between orphanage dormitory, Buckingham Palace and the strange landscape of Giant Country, while costumes by Kinnetia Isidore reflect the production’s playful, dreamlike aesthetic. Lighting by Zoe Spurr, video design by Akhila Krishnan and illusions by Chris Fisher help shift the tone from shadowy night-time encounters to the bright absurdity of the royal court. Music by Oleta Haffner and sound design from Carolyn Downing support the production’s blend of humour and unease, while movement direction by Ira Mandela Siobhan gives the giants and dream sequences a distinctive physical language. The puppets themselves are brought vividly to life by a skilled team of performers including Ben Thompson, Shaun McCourt, Elisa de Grey, Onioluwa Taiwo, Fred Davis, Corey Mitchell, Parkey Abeyratne and Sonya Cullingford.

Evans’s staging keeps the focus firmly on the unlikely friendship at the centre of the story, delivering a production designed to entertain while celebrating imagination, dreams and friendship.



THE BFG

Chichester Festival Theatre

Reviewed on 12th March 2026

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

The BFG is a Chichester Festival Theatre, Royal Shakespeare Company, Singapore Repertory Theatre, Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay, and Roald Dahl Story Company production


 

 

 

 

THE BFG

THE BFG

THE BFG

EAT THE RICH (BUT MAYBE NOT ME MATES X)

★★★★

Soho Theatre

EAT THE RICH (BUT MAYBE NOT ME MATES X)

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“sharp and funny”

After a smash-hit run at last summer’s Edinburgh Fringe, Eat the Rich (but maybe not me mates x) arrives at Soho Theatre with the confidence of a show that knows its audience. Jade Franks’ debut play is a brisk, 60-minute one-woman piece that takes a familiar premise — the working-class student parachuted into Oxbridge — and refreshes it with wit, warmth and a sharp eye for the contradictions of class mobility in contemporary Britain.

At its core, this is a classic fish-out-of-water story. Franks’ protagonist unexpectedly secures a place at Cambridge University and finds herself navigating the polished self-assurance of her upper-class peers: the Tillys, Millys and Jillys who move through the world as if it were designed expressly for them. She is by turns dazzled by their ease and quietly unnerved by it, but more devastated by their taste in music, casual dressing, and outright disdain for her native Liverpool. What keeps the piece feeling fresh, not just another piece of class confrontation, is Franks herself. Drawing heavily on her own experiences, the script is peppered with contemporary cultural references and delivered with a conversational charm that makes it feel as though she’s chatting to an audience of her mates (only half true, judging by the crowd the night I visit) rather than performing a polished monologue.

It is striking how little has changed. Alan Hollinghurst’s 1980s class drama The Line of Beauty, recently revived at the Almeida, explored the same entrenched hierarchies, albeit with added doses of gender and sexual politics. Franks’ modern-day account suggests that four decades on, the fault lines remain stubbornly intact. The broader political backdrop may be different, but the rules of belonging appear largely unchanged. It’s fitting that Eat the Rich’s director, Tatenda Shamiso, has assisted on Ryan Calais Cameron’s For Black Boys, bringing with him an ethos that theatre should be a broad church, centring marginalised voices.

There’s a pleasing frankness, fittingly, to the way Franks charts her character’s naivety, particularly when she takes a job as a cleaner. She leads a double life: rubbing shoulders with the landed gentry by day while scrubbing their toilets by night. The absurdity of this split existence is never laboured, but its emotional toll quietly accumulates. Things start to look up for Jade when a potential romantic interest appears in the form of Greg — fit, football-playing, and entirely untouched by hardship. But as time goes on, and she imagines how her life would change with him, it slowly dawns on her that the superficiality of what drew them together masks the underlying and irreconcilable gulf between their two worlds.

Though that may seem bleak, Eat the Rich is perfectly well balanced and more positive than pessimistic. There’s tentative hope for a future that feels on the brink of something transformative, even if its shape remains unclear. A fleeting but affecting encounter with a girl “even more northern” than her at the Freshers’ Fair blossoms into an easy intimacy, the relief of recognising yourself in someone else. It’s only through the clear-eyed observations of her sister, the outsider to the Cambridge bubble Jade has become immersed in, that the protagonist fully grasps how contrived, even performative, the whole affair can be.

In the programme notes, dramaturg Ellie Fulcher reveals that the play was first conceived after both she and Franks were made redundant, sustained by jokes that it would all be worth it once they were “big and famous”. That punchline now feels prophetic. With Eat the Rich picked up by Netflix, Franks joins the lineage of Fringe successes like Fleabag and Baby Reindeer. If this sharp and funny debut is anything to go by, she may well capture the mood of the nation next.



EAT THE RICH (BUT MAYBE NOT ME MATES X)

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 15th January 2026

by Amber Woodward

Photography by Marc Brenner


 

 

 

 

EAT THE RICH

EAT THE RICH

EAT THE RICH