WHEN THE FUN STOPS, TRY AGAIN?
Pleasance Theatre
★★★★
“succeeds brilliantly as both an entertaining theatrical experiment and an insightful exploration of gambling addiction”
What does gambling addiction feel like from the inside? Nathan Charles’ ‘When the Fun Stops, Try Again?’ answers with an immersive, innovative audience-led experience where chance – not choice – decides your fate.
You enter a room littered with shopping bags and discarded lottery tickets, illuminated by an unassuming PowerPoint. Suddenly an instruction appears, addressing you directly. Yes, you. It’s telling you to get up and choose a number. No-one else is moving. Is this real? You could win £500 or end the show immediately. Surely not. But someone gets up and wins a prize. Suddenly, everyone’s paying attention.
Nathan Charles’ semi-autobiographical social experiment explores gambling addiction in a darkly inventive way: by inviting the audience to gamble in real time. Participation is voluntary, but once it becomes clear the prizes are real, temptation quickly takes over. The risks are just as tangible: from the outset, we’re told one wrong number ends the show, with further consequences emerging as the game unfolds. The format is hugely entertaining. Each draw unlocks a new script read by an audience member into a microphone, gradually revealing insights into Charles’ life and the seductive logic of addiction. The stories range from a rose-tinted reminiscence on Pokémon card collecting, to a frantic search for lost laptops, to a poignant reflection on betting shops’ grip on deprived towns. They’re often compelling, if a little uneven: the Pokémon card vignette effectively charts the insidious slide from harmless hobby to nagging obsession; however the book-buying segment stretches the metaphor. While the thrills of gambling often feel more immediate than its consequences, that imbalance may be the point. By the time the audience eventually picks the wrong number and ends the game, the itch to try again is already there. In that sense, ‘When the Fun Stops, Try Again?’ succeeds brilliantly: it doesn’t just explain the psychology of gambling addiction, it lets you feel it.
Unusually, there’s no cast or director. Instead, the audience takes complete control, reading the scripts and determining what happens next, with the technician seamlessly responding in real time. The approach isn’t without drawbacks. Hearing non-actors sight-read – with all the nervousness and tongue-tying that entails – blunts the emotional impact of some segments, while inexperience with microphones leads to feedback and uneven volume. Yet the strengths far outweigh the weaknesses. With no performers to judge or impress, the atmosphere becomes remarkably relaxed, encouraging enthusiastic participation from even the most hesitant audience members. More unexpectedly, it fosters a genuine sense of collective responsibility: we’re all invested in making the evening work. The result is a warm, supportive environment filled with spontaneous jokes, reactions and moments of camaraderie that no scripted performance could replicate. Charles has created something rare: theatre that feels genuinely alive, unpredictable and communal. It’s a boldly participatory experiment and one of the most memorable nights at the theatre I’ve had in years.
The design is delightfully rough around the edges: gameshow lights and glittering boxes jostle with abandoned shopping bags, lottery tickets and raffle stubs. It feels faintly illicit, as though we’ve stumbled into someone’s inner world without their knowledge. Upbeat music and punchy sound effects lend an eerie authenticity to the audience-led readings. While the microphone mix is occasionally overpowering and a little muffled, the lighting is effective though the thrill of success could be heightened. The PowerPoint’s shifts between bright optimism and darker tones cleverly mirror gambling’s seductive highs and hidden costs.
‘When the Fun Stops, Try Again?’ is unlike anything else you’ll see this year: inventive, unpredictable and genuinely participatory. Despite a few rough edges, it succeeds brilliantly as both an entertaining theatrical experiment and an insightful exploration of gambling addiction. Those with lived experience may wish to steer clear, but it’s a deeply unforgettable piece that I wholeheartedly recommend.
WHEN THE FUN STOPS, TRY AGAIN?
Pleasance Theatre
Reviewed on 17th October 2026
by Hannah Bothelton
