★★★

“an extraordinary piece that gets under our skin”

There is a brutal honesty that runs through Will Lord’s debut play, “The Billionaire Inside Your Head”. A truth that is recognisable and unsettling. Lord cuts straight to the chase with an opening monologue delivered with panache, and a touch of menace, by Allison McKenzie. We are asked questions we would never admit to asking ourselves. But on reflection we all do. More often than we’d care to divulge. Nobody offers up an answer (McKenzie provides it anyway). We squirm a bit in our seats, and realise that the traverse seating plan is probably deliberate. We are looking straight at the audience opposite. We are looking at ourselves.

It comes as a relief when the fourth wall is rebuilt and we are drawn into the main narrative of the play (the comfort is short-lived, however). We are in the basement office of a debt collecting firm, bookended by ramshackle filing cabinets. Richie (Nathan Clarke) and Darwin (Ashley Margolis) are old school mates starting out on the lowest rung of the cooperate ladder. They still carry their childhood dreams of becoming billionaires. Hence the title of the play, although “The Voice Inside Your Head” would provide a more accurate description. Richie has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), and it is this subtext that quickly comes to the surface and dominates the story.

Clarke and Margolis have a natural onstage chemistry. Friendship, affection and rivalry co-exist as if they were close siblings. Cracks appear, however, when they find they are competing for the same promotion, and the quirkiness of their dialogue – often extremely funny – takes on darker shades. It so happens that their boss is Darwin’s mother, Nicole, (Allison McKenzie), so nepotism versus merit is another spanner that Lord throws into the works. It is possibly all a bit too much and this overcrowding of ideas can lead to confusion. McKenzie plays the mother, and also ‘The Voice’ inside Richie’s head, but with little distinction. Dressed in her crisp white trouser suit for both roles, the accent and vocal inflections never change. We rely on James Whiteside’s lighting; bare lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling light up and flicker as a cartoon-like – but not inappropriate – metaphor whenever McKenzie becomes ‘The Voice’.

Eventually ‘The Voice’ overshadows the action, which is a shame. And we feel we are in two separate dramas. Clarke and Margolis are an engaging couple, verging on bromance. They make fun of each other. Margolis’ Darwin is a bit of a dope-smoking slob, self-assured and secure while Clarke’s Richie is on always edge. The manifestations of his OCD, initially comical, swiftly turn quite sinister and surreal. Lord, himself diagnosed with OCD, tackles the subject with integrity and honesty, but injects extravagant melodrama – which is distracting. Anna Ledwich directs with respect for the writing, yet it appears that she is struggling to decide in what genre she is working.

There are serious issues at stake here, but it is difficult to take them seriously. Richie’s condition is demonised somewhat – the voice in his head grows sadistic, psychotic, angry. Lord’s intentions are applauded and the gripping performances from the cast are applauded even more. It is an extraordinary piece that gets under our skin, but it is administered too indelicately. A little less force would drive the point home more. Nevertheless, it is a compelling watch, and one that certainly makes us question our own voice. We all have one. Maybe we don’t always admit it. The truth is often unsettling and, at least, Lord doesn’t shy away from it.

THE GATHERED LEAVES

Park Theatre

★★★★

“a finely flowing production that is consistently identifiable”

The centre piece of Andrew Keatley’s “The Gathered Leaves” is a beautiful birthday cake, lovingly created by the autistic Samuel for his father’s seventy-fifth birthday. A replica of the country manor in which the family have reunited for the celebration (the first time they have all been together for seventeen years), the detailed intricacy of the sugar-coated façade hides all manner of ingredients. Cut open the surface and the flavours are bitter and sweet, and we never know which mouthful we are going to swallow next. The Pennington family is a similar blend of mismatched elements that make up a dysfunctional whole. It’s a tried and tested dramatic formula but Adrian Noble’s revival is a compelling slice of theatre.

It is 1997 and change is afoot in Britain. The extended family appear to be sheltered in their comfortable privilege, but they are not immune to upheaval. The autocratic patriarch (Jonathan Hyde) is desperately trying to cling onto his authority and tradition while battling with a diagnosis of vascular dementia. Times have changed and the nine assembled members of the family are representations of these changes across three generations. Of course, sparks are going to fly, and drama is guaranteed. Keatley’s writing also injects warmth, humour and a precarious harmony that astonishingly never clashes with the suspense. Skeletons fall out of the closet, rattling with regrets, while resentments surface that are cleverly sculpted into some sort of shape of understanding, if not quite reconciliation.

The cast, across the board, brilliantly bring their characters to life. Hyde expertly combines rigidity with vulnerability, constantly surprising us with revelations that show a very human side to an outwardly unsympathetic individual. Joanne Pearce nails the ‘long-suffering wife’ syndrome while refusing to be sidelined or relegated in dominance. The younger generations are equally convincing. Richard Stirling has the almost impossible task of portraying the autistic son Samuel, but he grasps the complexities with acute judgement. Innocent yet volatile, with authentic mannerisms to match, his childish persona puts the other adults to shame by being the only really truthful member of the family. Except for maybe his brother Giles (a superb Chris Larkin) who tries to hold everything together; on the constant lookout for Samuel while trying to appease not just his father, but a dissatisfied wife (Zoë Waites) and his defiant children. George Lorimer and Ella Dale, as Simon and Emily, depict the younger generation with socially conscious humour, throwing in delicious dollops of subterfuge and modern sensibilities into the mix.

Many issues are dwelt upon (perhaps too many). The arrival of estranged daughter Alice (played with cool conviction by Olivia Vinall) reveals the extent of the chasm that exists within this family. She is accompanied by her dual heritage teenage daughter, Aurelia. Taneetrah Porter gives a standout performance as the young Aurelia. Bemused yet diplomatic she is the true peacekeeper, refusing to reject the failings of the family that she is witnessing for the first time.

A few scenes are unnecessary, particularly a couple of drawn-out duologues that act merely as a kind of postmortem to what has just happened. Otherwise, this is a finely flowing production that is consistently identifiable. The topics (particularly autism, racism, conservatism, liberalism… there are many ‘isms’ in this play) never become issues. Rather they are part of the fabric. Each act opens with a flashback to the young Giles and Samuel (Ellis Elijah and Joe Burrell respectively) which gives some background, backstory and build up.

“The Gathered Leaves” is ultimately moving, as well as being thoroughly entertaining. Shades of Ayckbourn mingle with hints of Pinter at times, but Keatley’s drama remains resolutely unique. There is a fair bit to laugh about, but it still remains serious while also gently pulling our heartstrings. A finely balanced evening.

THE BILLIONAIRE INSIDE YOUR HEAD

Hampstead Theatre

★★★

“an extraordinary piece that gets under our skin”

THE BILLIONAIRE INSIDE YOUR HEAD

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 26th September 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Rich Lakos

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE BILLIONAIRE

THE BILLIONAIRE

THE BILLIONAIRE

THE GATHERED LEAVES

Park Theatre

★★★★

“a finely flowing production that is consistently identifiable”