Tag Archives: Portia Yuran Li

ME…

★★★★

Little Angel Theatre

ME…

Little Angel Theatre

★★★★

“a snow-kissed poem of a show”

Based on Emma Dodd’s beloved picture book, Me is a tender and beautifully judged piece of early-years theatre from Little Angel Theatre, capturing the enormity of love through the eyes of the little ones.

The theatrical experience begins before the lights even dim: children are instantly drawn to the striking parent-penguin puppet perched atop a gleaming white iceberg, a visually charming beacon that sparks curiosity and excited whispers across the theatre. Little Angel Theatre—long established as a leader in high-quality puppetry for young audiences, understands its audience deeply— expertly folds this anticipation into the dramaturgy, turning waiting into play.

Directed with warmth and clarity by Samantha Lane, the production offers a visually cohesive and elegantly minimal world. Simon Plumridge’s crisp, monochrome design evokes the Arctic with simple, clever transformations, ensuring that focus remains on the central relationship rather than visual clutter. The show’s most delightful surprise is that it is powered entirely by a single performer: Clarke Edwards brings irresistible charm and humour to the tiny protagonist, imbuing “Me” with a lively spirit through quick vocal shifts, expressive puppetry and playful physical comedy. Every shake of snow from the baby penguin’s feathers earns collective giggles, and Edwards transitions between multiple characters with an ease that keeps young audiences fully engaged.

Jimmy Grimes’s puppet design adds soft textures and expressive nuances that encourage connection — which is exactly why little hands repeatedly stretch toward the stage before parents gently pull them back. With very minimal spoken text, Arran Glass’s lyrical score becomes an essential storyteller, seamlessly guiding emotional shifts and helping children follow the journey. Audience participation is woven in with care: cheers erupt each time the little penguin succeeds, while the chorus of children calling out “Little one?” adorably dissolves the fourth wall. Even the playful moment of counting penguins in the theatre reinforces the show’s central theme — that in an enormous world, love makes you feel visible, valued and big.

If anything, a touch more variation could benefit children at the upper end of the age bracket; a few repeated waddling and sliding sequences feel slightly prolonged. But this is a minor note within an otherwise perfectly pitched work.

Ultimately, Me knows exactly who it is for and honours that audience with generosity. It is a snow-kissed poem of a show — celebrating wonder, protection and the courage of growing up. A heartfelt reminder that love, quiet and constant, is the biggest thing of all.



ME…

Little Angel Theatre

Reviewed on 22nd November 2025

by Portia Yuran Li

Photography by Ellie Kurttz


 

Previously reviewed at Little Angel venues:

A SQUASH AND A SQUEEZE | ★★★ | March 2025

 

 

ME

ME

ME

HATER

★★★★

The Space

HATER

The Space

★★★★

“an inventive, emotionally incisive, and culturally sharp piece”

Though not a new work, Hater makes an impressive appearance at this year’s Voila Festival. It opens with a deceptively gentle touch: a baby bunny puppet, soft and endearing, leads us into the story. But the sweetness quickly fractures, revealing far heavier terrain—C-PTSD, immigration, family trauma, fractured relationships, and the relentless pressures of survival. This sharp tonal shift immediately signals the ambition of Gawa Leung’s writing: a play about the invisible weight of immigrant life.

Rather than relying on grand statements, Hater builds its world through precise, almost documentary-like details of diasporic existence: the symbolic economics of a Tesco meal deal, the bureaucratic nightmare of visa systems, the absurd burden of performing a sexualized linguistic identity. These accumulated minutiae echo the sociological concept of “microaggressions”—small daily wounds that, as the play argues, eventually crystallize into the profound weariness that breeds a “hater.”

A brilliant structural device underpins the show: the four-part Bunny narrative, which functions both metaphorically and theoretically. The bunny, a creature perpetually out of place, becomes a precise mirror for the immigrant navigating a world never designed for her.

Gawa Leung and Lorraine Yu deliver the Bunny allegory with superb precision and emotional intelligence, guiding it through a four-part evolution without ever announcing its structure. A highlight arrives when Lorraine delivers “Mummy’s” Cantonese and Gawa translates live onstage. It’s not just bilingual performance—it becomes a vivid expression of the diasporic condition, where translation itself exposes both intimacy and cultural distance. As the bunny tries to “fit into a SeaLife,” Gawa and Lorraine shift effortlessly between humour and desperation, making assimilation feel almost physically suffocating. Under Tess Adèle Glinert’s direction, the piece moves with humour and sharp insight, rendering the immigrant world both painfully real and disarmingly funny.

The play’s central question—Where does the hater come from? —finds its answer not in grand passions but in a thousand tiny cuts. A hater is forged in the crucible of economic pressure, emotional isolation, familial misalignment, and the exhausting navigation of systems built for others. The meta-theatrical motif of “stalking another East Asian woman” is particularly sharp—not born of love or jealousy, but of a desperate immigrant self-interrogation: How did she make it? What is her secret to survival?

Hater is full of surprises, though two elements hold it back from complete polish. One is narrative clarity, that the allegorical Bunny structure is beautifully crafted, but the real-world narrative becomes scattered across too many thematic threads. Another is theatrical transitions: with such dialogue-heavy material, the production would benefit from more dynamic physical staging, bolder scene shifts, and more strategic lighting to maintain rhythm and visual engagement.

Overall, Hater is an inventive, emotionally incisive, and culturally sharp piece—rare in its ability to blend humour, trauma, and immigrant politics with daring imagination. Its potential is enormous, and with clearer dramaturgy and stronger theatrical transitions, it could solidify its place as an essential work of the diaspora canon.



HATER

The Space

Reviewed on 16th November 2925

by Portia Yuran Li


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WOMEN OVER 30 DON’T MATTER | ★★★★ | November 2025
AN INTERVENTION | ★★★½ | August 2025
A KISS FOR CINDERELLA | ★★★ | December 2024
ONE MAN POE | ★★★ | October 2021

 

 

HATER

HATER

HATER