★★★★★

“a clever, meaningful, and essential piece of theatre”

‘Dogs on the Metro’ at the Live Theatre is a precise and important reflection on adolescence, friendship, and consent. Masterfully written by Emilie Robson and directed by Maria Crocker, this personal two-hander is a force to be reckoned with, over it’s quick-paced and concise 60-minute course.

The show follows the fluctuating friendship of Jen (Sarah Balfour) and Dean (Dean Logan) and explores how boundaries can be pushed and taken to their limits as the two grow up together. Robson has created deeply fascinating and complex characters whose world and views the audience become quickly invested with. She creates a very tactile world with her language where “skin is made of needles” and the “room is made of balloons” and leaves the audience gasping for air from beginning to end.

The ambiguity of Jen and Dean’s relationship and their conflict hits every note, and pack punches as Balfour and Logan deliver every heart-wrenching moment with deep sincerity. Balfour’s confusion, frustration, and inner conflict feels wholly genuine, as does Logan’s characterisation of insecurity and immaturity. Both have a chilling chemistry and power to command the audience’s entire attention to their self-doubt and discomfort, conjuring goosebumps with the drop of hat.

One of the shining features of the piece is its deft connection to its place and time. ‘Dogs on the Metro’ is set mostly between metro carriages and house parties in Newcastle and utilises its clarity and ambiguity of destination to its fullest. Robson remarkably and gorgeously integrates Geordie dialect and place into a piece which reflects broader culture around platonic intimacy, gender, and boundaries. The characters and their familiarity with one another and their journey to and from home, school, and friend’s houses works so well amongst the murkiness of the story Jen urgently tries to take ownership of. As the non-linear story fractures and unfolds, the unreliability of the narration becomes more and more intriguing, and paints an impactful and deep-cutting message surrounding consent. The audience is led to trust and distrust as the plot thickens, and Crocker’s beautiful direction of the non-chronological structure does well to keep pace with the uncertainty and double meaning which the script dances with. For example, when Jen and Dean open the story, crossing over each other, it feels instantly playful and youthful; as the story develops, this technique takes on a fascinating new meaning around manipulation of narratives and truth.

It is hard to understate how complete ‘Dogs on the Metro’ feels. The script and the actors constantly flit around images, anecdotes, and ideas; none of which are wasted. ‘Dogs on the Metro’ feels wholly thought-through and tight. This goes for all aspects of design, too. From Amy Watts’ metro carriage set design which is creatively shifted between scenes to cage the characters into a claustrophobic atmosphere, to Drummond Orr’s sharp and engaging lighting design which emulates the flash a metro hurtling through a tunnel as well as an awkward early 2010s house party. Matthew Tuckey’s sound design is particularly entrancing and works electrically with the script to enhance sinister and tense moments. The crash of the metro carriage crescendoing with Balfour’s anger and upset, is an especially tactful way of exploring the ambiguity, anxiety, and self-doubt Jen experiences. All of these elements working together so firmly is utterly breath-taking.

‘Dogs on the Metro’ is a clever, meaningful, and essential piece of theatre, exploring consent and adolescence with beautiful clarity and intention.

ST MAUD at the Live Theatre

★★★

“has the potential to go bigger, better and smarter to raise the hairs on the back of necks of everyone who dares come along”

Saint Maud at Live theatre is a murky journey of religion, death, and neglect. The story follows Maud (played by Brogan Gilbert) who is a nurse and devote believer, caring for Amanda (Dani Arlington), an atheistic ex-dancer struggling through end-of-life care. As the audience catch snapshots of Maud’s pleas to a higher power for a sign of any kind of recognition and connection, and her mission to “save” Amanda before it is too late, there is a creeping sense that all is not what as it seems.

The show is advertised as an intense watch, so it’s fair to arrive with expectations of how the company might deliver on an unsettling and shocking experience. The overall vision, though clearly thought-through and well-crafted, is unfortunately underwhelming. Admittedly, there are aspects of real majesty woven through this piece (particularly Alison Ashton’s design and Drummond Orr’s lighting); as roses are dug from sand and heaps of hair unravel from drawers, stunningly chilling lighting pulls tableaus together aptly. Starting strong, Matthew Tuckey’s sound design immediately sets a haunting scene. However, lacklustre voice overs, repetitive design motifs, and non-committal audio visuals unfortunately draw the attention away from the suspenseful magic that the heights of Maud’s sound design reach.

Transitions are directed smoothly and acted with desperate tenderness. A real strength that could be pulled out even more is the stylised movement and dance motifs which flutter through the story. Upping the stakes visually and going even further with this would inject further drama into the writing. The use of pyrotechnic effects and gauze are especially effective in drawing through scenes of isolation and damnation through the piece and are best used in the sparing moments which do garner shock or chills from the audience.

The staging is largely dynamic and presents gorgeous stills of vulnerability from actors who are pushed to the brink and demonstrate impressive range. As Maud comes into conflict with Carol, a sex worker and mother begging to provide comfort to Amanda (played by Neshla Caplan), the direction feels more fine-tuned and moving.

A clearer sense of place, time, and meaning might ground this show in something more tangible and detailed. Jack McNamara’s direction lacks clarity, and Jessica Andrews’ ambiguous writing leaves the audience asking for more. Narrative and storytelling cliches clash frustratingly with the eery helplessness and lovely poetic language (explorations of seaside deindustrialisation are, in all fairness, well-thought through and well-done). Unfortunately, the play meanders down too many paths and struggles to build and maintain tension where it is sorely needed. At every other turn, it is difficult not to feel let down by the lack of commitment to the imagining of horror as a genre; where we have hints of unnerving physicality and glimpses of body horror, these ideas are not fully followed through.

Saint Maud misses the mark in pulling off an experience which keeps an audience on their toes. The play sets up so much that could be ignited but does not come to fruition in any meaningfully daring way. As actors vanish into thin air and technical design elements arise in clever ways throughout, it’s evident Saint Maud has the potential to go bigger, better and smarter to raise the hairs on the back of necks of everyone who dares come along.

Tag Archives: Matthew Tuckey

DOGS ON THE METRO

★★★★★

Live Theatre

DOGS ON THE METRO

Live Theatre

★★★★★

“a clever, meaningful, and essential piece of theatre”

DOGS ON THE METRO

Live Theatre

Reviewed on 6th May 2025

by Molly Knox

Photography by Von Fox Promotions

Previously reviewed at this venue:

PRESENT | ★★★★ | December 2024

GWYNETH GOES SKIING | ★★★★ | November 2024

ST MAUD | ★★★ | October 2024

DOGS ON THE METRO

DOGS ON THE METRO

DOGS ON THE METRO

ST MAUD

★★★

Live Theatre

ST MAUD at the Live Theatre

★★★

“has the potential to go bigger, better and smarter to raise the hairs on the back of necks of everyone who dares come along”