Tag Archives: Patricia Allison

BLACK COMEDY

★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

BLACK COMEDY

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★

“farcically over the top – but that’s what it’s all about”

There is something intrinsically satisfying about watching somebody dig themselves deeper and deeper into a hole. Witnessing others’ misfortunes – especially in a theatre environment – isn’t driven by cruelty. Psychologists and philosophers have written pages on the subject of ‘schadenfreude’, but most of us enjoy the sensation without giving it a second thought. Which is why television shows like ‘You’ve Been Framed’ are popular. Farce is funny. It works best by putting ordinary people into extreme, out-of-control predicaments; the humour coming from watching them try to maintain their dignity and hide their secrets, while all around everything is falling apart.

Playwright Peter Shaffer certainly knew how to tap into this concept when he created the characters for his 1965 one-act comedy “Black Comedy”. And then he added another trick, borrowed from Chinese theatre, where he would reverse darkness and light. The play, set in a young sculptor’s South Kensington flat, opens in pitch black. When a fuse blows plunging the flat into darkness, the stage is illuminated. We see everything, while the characters are stumbling around in the dark. What ensues is seventy-five minutes of joy, watching the disintegration of order coupled with seeing how the darkness reveals truths that the characters manage to hide in the light.

A simple but ingenious conceit made trickier by playing it completely in the round: the expertise required by the cast is magnified, yet they pull it off superbly. Fledgling sculptor Brindsley (Joe Bannister) and his fiancé Carol (Leah Haile) are preparing to meet a rich and influential art dealer. Anxious to impress, Brindsley has ‘borrowed’ some expensive antiques from his neighbour Harold (Simon Manyonda) without his knowledge. Meanwhile, Brindsley’s former mistress, Clea (Patricia Allison), is threatening a comeback, while Carol’s father – Colonel Melkett (Jason Barnett) – has arrived to check out his prospective son-in-law. Teetotal neighbour Miss Furnival (Julia Hills) enters, seeking refuge from her fear of the dark.

Caroline Steinbeis, making her directorial debut at the Orange Tree Theatre, handles the intricacies and the chorographical demands with panache. Aided by physical comedy consultant, John Nicholson, the fast-paced chaos unfolding on stage feels natural despite the precise and intricate blocking required. Occasionally things fall out of synch, but we barely notice amongst the intentional mayhem. Bannister has faultless comic timing, pitching pauses perfectly during which we can almost hear his brain working out how to get out of the next mess he’s found himself in. Haile’s Carol is teasing and playful, a willing accomplice to her fiancé’s deceptions, simultaneously rebelling against her military father while wrapping him around her finger. Barnett gives a gentle giant of a performance as the colonel; imposing but bumbling, regimental in his speech but betraying a taste for subversion.

The laughs increase in tandem with the number of people onstage. When Harold returns early, much of the humour derives from Brindsley’s doomed attempts to replace all of his belongings before the lights come back on. Physical comedy comes to the fore, around which Manyonda – as Harold – dances with a camp joie de vivre, until it turns to gleeful horror when truths are revealed. Hills is a delight as Miss Furnival, accidentally discovering the joys of alcohol in the darkness. Allison is a gorgeously impish Clea, who delights in the advantageous observer’s position in which she finds herself. A mischievous smile follows her every movement and sentence – it is clear she is relishing the chaos. When Schuppanzigh the electrician (Chris Chilton) arrives, he is mistaken for the rich art dealer in a wonderfully slapstick, though slightly predictable, comedy of errors. The real art dealer has barely more than a walk on role, but Javier Marzan makes the most of it.

A whirlwind of a show, it works well up close. Dangerously up close for the performers, but they use the audience to great and comic effect. It is farcically over the top – but that’s what it’s all about. As a play, “Black Comedy” is as light as they come, and great fun. A reminder that, at times, theatre is simply pure, joyous entertainment without needing to be anything more.



BLACK COMEDY

Orange Tree Theatre

Reviewed on 27th May 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Sam Taylor

 

 

 

 

 

BLACK COMEDY

BLACK COMEDY

BLACK COMEDY

PRIVATE VIEW

★★★★

Soho Theatre

PRIVATE VIEW

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“performances that are magnetic and unsettling”

Don’t let the short running time fool you. Private View is a rich, emotionally and intellectually rewarding play. Jess Edwards charts a Sapphic relationship from the first flicker of attraction into far more complicated territory where differences in age, experience, wealth and status continually reshape the balance of power. It is clever, unsettling writing that refuses simple answers. Annie Kershaw’s lean, precise direction heightens the tension and keeps the momentum taut. The two women are never named; in the programme they appear simply as A and B.

A, played by Patricia Allison, is 23, a PhD student in physics and philosophy. B describes her as “luminous” when they first meet and the production leans into that with bright, tight-fitting fast-fashion pieces that amplify her freshness and immediacy. Allison’s performance, though, gives A something deeper. She is quick, curious and immediately engaging. Her speech fizzes with youthful energy, full of unfinished thoughts, yet when she talks about her research it becomes crisp, focused and passionate. Edwards’ writing creates a deliberate tension between her scientific confidence and her emotional newness, particularly as she experiences queer desire for the first time. Her youth and beauty give her fleeting leverage, even a sharpness that borders on cruelty, but she remains vulnerable beneath it.

B, played by Stefanie Martini, is 38 and an established photographer whose work sells for high prices. Martini’s early scenes give her a composed, articulate confidence, someone used to being the older and steadier presence. The costuming reinforces this with well-chosen natural fibres and subtle luxury, the kind of quietly expensive wardrobe that signals success without drawing attention to itself. As the play unfolds, cracks appear: the history of alcoholism, past failures and a hungry obsessiveness toward A that becomes harder to disguise. Edwards gives B advantages in age, experience and money and Martini reinforces these through precise gestures and controlled posture, although a nervous need to be liked and wanted keeps breaking through. But that authority is never fixed. It flickers, unravels, reforms. The shifting power between A and B becomes one of Private View’s sharpest tools and both actors handle those turns with nuance.

The play traces their relationship with close and often uncomfortable detail. Desire intensifies, old wounds rise to the surface and what begins with seductive ease becomes something far more tangled. Their flirtation with dominance and submission adds heat in the bedroom but also destabilises everything outside it. Differences in class, age and emotional history complicate every moment, making their connection alluring one second and unnerving the next. Edwards keeps the question of control open which is precisely what gives the piece its bite.

Allison and Martini rise to the show’s demands with performances that are magnetic and unsettling. Allison’s openness makes A instantly appealing while Martini’s measured exterior hides something sharper and more volatile. Their chemistry is charged, unpredictable and occasionally difficult to watch.

Kershaw’s direction keeps the atmosphere tightly coiled without ever overplaying it. Ingrid Mackinnon’s movement and intimacy work gives weight to the smallest shifts in breath, posture and space. Catja Hamilton’s lighting moves between warmth and stark clarity, including a striking sequence in near darkness that recalls B’s photographic practice. Georgia Wilmot’s sparse set and carefully considered costume design reinforce the piece’s study of difference, desire and instability. Scene changes, achieved through shifts in body language, posture and lighting, carry a dry wit that keeps the pace alive.

By the end, the initial thrill between A and B has thickened into something claustrophobic. Private View shows with unsettling precision how desire, power and coercion can twist together until they are impossible to separate. Intelligent, stylish and quietly disturbing, it is a compelling study of a relationship folding in on itself and leaving little room to breathe.



PRIVATE VIEW

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 2nd December 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Ciara Robinson


 

Previously reviewed at Soho Theatre venues:

CAMILLE O’SULLIVAN: LOVE LETTER | ★★★★★ | November 2025
JURASSIC | ★★★ | November 2025
LITTLE BROTHER | ★★★★ | October 2025
BOG WITCH | ★★★½ | October 2025
MY ENGLISH PERSIAN KITCHEN | ★★★★ | October 2025
ENGLISH KINGS KILLING FOREIGNERS | ★★★½ | September 2025
REALLY GOOD EXPOSURE | ★★★★ | September 2025
JUSTIN VIVIAN BOND: SEX WITH STRANGERS | ★★★★★ | July 2025
ALEX KEALY: THE FEAR | ★★★★ | June 2025
KIERAN HODGSON: VOICE OF AMERICA | ★★★★★ | June 2025

 

 

PRIVATE VIEW

PRIVATE VIEW

PRIVATE VIEW