Tag Archives: Patch Middleton

GUIDELINES

★★★★

New Diorama Theatre

GUIDELINES

New Diorama Theatre

★★★★

“Punchy, pacy and full of bite”

Something sinister lurks beneath social media’s glossy veneer. CONGLOMERATE’s debut show, ‘Guidelines’, is a striking new work fusing nuance, power, levity and darkness into something eerie and exhilarating.

Two sisters in a wood. A dancing man. A frog with eyes in its mouth. Somehow this fractured stream of consciousness coheres as we tumble down a social media rabbit hole with deadly consequences.

Writer Pip Williams, with dramaturg Louise Orwin, delivers a tight two-hander that nails the absurdist contradictions of social media, capturing familiar online habits with subtlety and bite. The opening voicemail sets an ominous tone even if it feels a touch poetic, before a sudden shift to pulsing rhythm tips us off balance. Recurring lines create a doom-scrolled tangle, with sharp humour cutting through at just the right moments. Momentum gathers promisingly, though the final third loses steam: the forest climax could push further, and the closing scene takes time to land an under powered point despite the bold pivot. Still, ‘Guidelines’ feels on the cusp of something genuinely exciting.

James Nash’s direction is slick and assured, capturing the slow burning menace with precision. The pacing is finely tuned, adding irony or resonance with flair. The use of space and roaming stand mics is particularly striking, shifting between prowling movement and considered stillness to create a restless, caged energy. Transitions are generally seamless and the use of darkness deepens the nightmarish mood. It’s a shame the momentum softens in the final scene, but overall it’s an expertly crafted piece.

Movement director Ken Nakajima’s work really elevates the piece, drawing sharp contrasts between naturalistic gestures and algorithm ready moves. The jarring kill sequences are a crisply executed standout.

The music – including AJ Turner’s opening composition and vocals – brings a distinctive, electronic edge to the production. Pulses of suitably dystopian drum and bass convey hidden dangers, and the burst of influencer era pop cleverly masks dark lyrics.

The design is powerful. Jida Akil’s minimal set makes a bold impression, the gorgeous gold banners transforming with deft lighting changes, and the gentle sway of hanging ropes unexpectedly evoking tree limbs. Adi Currie’s lighting is beautifully judged, moving between subtle washes and sudden shocks. The fades rendering the actors momentarily faceless are especially striking, offering a sharp counterpoint to more realistic sequences. Patch Middleton’s sound design is equally strong, with clever use of volume, impeccably timed cues, and a clean overall balance, though the actors could project more when they’re away from the stand mics. Akil’s costumes contrast corporate crispness with casual teen-wear, though the sudden shift to Puritan garb is initially puzzling.

Rachel Leah Hosker and Alex McCauley make an exceptional duo – fully immersed, sharply paced and completely in sync, moving between corporate performativity, teen innocence and raw fear in a heartbeat. They build easy audience rapport, land the comic beats with precision, and handle movement work with authority. It’s compelling, nuanced acting that leaves a real impression.

Punchy, pacy and full of bite, ‘Guidelines’ delivers a clear eyed critique of our unregulated social media age. With a little tightening, it could go far – so catch it while it’s still up close.



GUIDELINES

New Diorama Theatre

Reviewed on 5th February 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Clémence Rebourg


 

 

 

 

GUIDELINES

GUIDELINES

GUIDELINES

RADIANT BOY

★★½

Southwark Playhouse Borough

RADIANT BOY

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★½

“There are some neat, if underplayed, genre twists.”

In its own publicity, Radiant Boy was described by one cast member as “a queer coming-of-age meets The Exorcist via A Taste of Honey”.

That’s a tall order, cramming in a range of genres into a tight turn-around play. It also foresees the fault lines.

It’s 1983. After an unexplained episode at a music academy in London, trainee vocalist Russell (Stuart Thompson) abruptly leaves and returns to his childhood home in a post-industrial town in the North East. Awaiting him is Maud (Wendy Nottingham), his judgmental, curtain-twitching, pass-ag mother.

“It’s happening again,” he announces on his return.

Temperatures drop, bulbs crackle and fail, and he speaks with knowledge of events he’s never witnessed. There is even the suggestion of stigmata.

Maud turns to a priest named Father Miller (Ben Allen), who practises a fringe spiritual therapy he calls psychodivinity.

The substance of the play, therefore, is a series of probing sessions, rituals and cleansings, during which some of the truth behind Russell’s breakdown begins to emerge, including an intense bond he shared with another student, Steph (Renée Lamb), who prowls outside.

Here’s the problem.

There is no menace or atmosphere. Consequently, the cast suffers from a lack of conviction in the material.

The spirit (whose occupation of Russell is never fully explained) is that of Steph, the live-wire, fast-gabbing dancing queen. She is an absolute blast. So what Russell brings home is a friend from school, and the demonic possession is a playdate.

The priest is less an exorcist warring against the forces of evil than a plumber clearing a stubborn blockage in the downpipe.

The acting is technically great – Stuart Thompson as Russell is solid as a moody young man with mummy issues; Nottingham is suitably waspish and disappointed – but the production, under Júlia Levai’s underpowered direction, runs at a perpetual simmer when what is required is some welly, some oomph, some sense of true abyss-staring jeopardy.

Other minor horrors are suggested but never explored or resolved: Father Miller may have malign intentions or Russell’s homosexuality might be a factor. (Much is made of Russell’s queer identity in the programme notes, less so in the actual play.) The folkloric ghost of a young boy in the neighbourhood is raised then dumped. Religion and the nature of evil is surprisingly absent as key talking points.

The staging doesn’t help. The front room that is the centre of the action is initially shrouded in net curtains which are thankfully removed. However, the stanchions remain, and the audience feels fenced off from the actors. As a result, the lingering artificial cube of a set manages to be both too big and too insular at the same time.

There is, at the heart of the story, an intriguing idea. There are some neat, if underplayed, genre twists. Nancy Netherwood is a writer with huge potential, and she produces a script that is crisp, elegant and technically adept. But the play is ambivalent about its subject matter, too prissy to roll up its sleeves and state its case.

In short, the production is haunted by the ghost of the spectacle it might have been.



RADIANT BOY

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 23rd May 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Olivia Spencer

 

 


 

 

Last ten shows reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

SUPERSONIC MAN | ★★★★ | April 2025
MIDNIGHT COWBOY | ★★ | April 2025
WILKO | ★★★ | March 2025
SON OF A BITCH | ★★★★ | February 2025
SCISSORHANDZ | ★★★ | January 2025
CANNED GOODS | ★★★ | January 2025
THE MASSIVE TRAGEDY OF MADAME BOVARY | ★★★ | December 2024
THE HAPPIEST MAN ON EARTH | ★★★★★ | November 2024
[TITLE OF SHOW] | ★★★ | November 2024
THE UNGODLY | ★★★ | October 2024

 

 

RADIANT BOY

RADIANT BOY

RADIANT BOY