BALLAD LINES

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★★

“a fearless exploration of motherhood and self definition, powered by a searing score and phenomenal cast”

Craving more folk in your theatre? Fear not – ‘Ballad Lines’ begins its anticipated London debut. Spanning centuries of womanhood, this sweeping folk musical blends heart, humour and foot stomping energy to explore how the ghosts of our past shape the present.

Sarah and Alix, a queer New York couple, are ready to start a new life together – until a forgotten parcel from Sarah’s late aunt makes Sarah question everything. With generations of history pressing in, she must decide whether reclaiming her story is worth the cost.

Award winning duo Finn Anderson and Tania Azevedo craft a compelling book, weaving complex female narratives with remarkable clarity and revealing the deep threads connecting Sarah’s family. The writing tackles heavy themes with refreshing frankness, letting the nuances of motherhood shine. The central characters feel fully realised, creating a rich tapestry of human voices. Though Betty’s pivotal relationship with Sarah could be explored further, and both Sarah and Alix’s shifts in perspective land a touch abruptly. Still, it’s a rich, rewarding script.

Anderson’s infectious score is a triumph, blending traditional folk with evocative new material. Highlights include the evolution of ‘The Four Marys’ into ‘Unexpected Visitor’, and the tender ‘Separate Ways’. That said, the ‘Epilogue’ could benefit from sharper contrast with the ‘Prologue’ to underscore Sarah’s new voice. Nevertheless, the cast recording will be on repeat for the foreseeable future. Shonagh Murray’s musical direction, alongside onstage trio Sally Simpson, Maddy Salter and Isis Dunthorne, brings the score vibrantly to life.

Azevedo’s direction, with support from Eliza Beth Stevens, is dynamic and assured. Ghostly intrusions make striking use of the space, colour neatly shifts time and place, and transitions are impressively slick. The historically grounded European accents land well. The cassette tape motif is playful and effective, though a reprise of the ‘holding all the strands’ idea could add another layer.

Tinovimbanashe Sibanda’s choreography provides a pulsing, stomping heartbeat throughout. The movement suits the tight space, evoking pressure, yearning and fear, though the exuberant hoedown suggests even more dynamism could be unlocked.

TK Hay’s set is striking, anchored by a wooden structure bursting into the space at an off kilter angle that mirrors the tangled narratives. The mountain fringes shift mood and colour, though the sheer width of the stage risks losing things in the peripheries.

Simon Wilkinson’s lighting is sharply judged, grounding the present in a clean palette while the past bursts with impressionistic colour. Each narrative thread gets its own scheme, keeping the audience oriented without major set changes, and the hues subtly define character – from Jean’s watery tones to the red and blue clash of Cait’s inner conflict.

Andy Johnson’s sound design is excellent – crisp, balanced, and remarkably clear. Every instrument cuts through with precision, and the stamping resonates beautifully. The ambient soundscape is equally strong, with textures that feel real.

Carly Brownbridge’s costume design smartly blends historical silhouettes with contemporary textures, reimagining the past through modern materials like quilted jackets and fingerless gloves.

The cast is exceptional, pouring raw emotion into every scene. Sydney Sainté’s Alix radiates charisma and razor sharp comic timing, while Kirsty Findlay’s Cait is a knockout in acting, singing and movement. Yna Tresvalles brings rebellious spark and stunning vocals as Jean, and Frances McNamee’s Sarah pairs rich vocals with beautifully played indecision. Ally Kennard’s multirole work is fluid and expressive, and Rebecca Trehearn’s Betty is a gutsy powerhouse, especially in ‘I Wish My Baby Was Born’. Gracie Lai and Siân Louise Dowdalls round out the ensemble with equal strength, and together the eight performers create a remarkable wall of sound. Spectacular.

‘Ballad Lines’ is a fearless exploration of motherhood and self definition, powered by a searing score and phenomenal cast. Catch it while you can – it’s absolutely one to watch.

BALLAD LINES

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

Reviewed on 29th January 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Pamela Raith

BALLAD LINES

★★★★

“The icing on the (Christmas) cake is Paul Wills’ set”

You might think that an adaptation of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” by Mark Gatiss, whose credits include ‘The League of Gentlemen’, ‘Little Britain’, ‘Inside No. 9’, ‘Sherlock’ and ‘Doctor Who’, would have an off-the-wall, surreal quality to it. To an extent you would be right, but overall Gatiss remains remarkably faithful to the original. Of course, there are surprises, twists and quirky humour, but also a profound respect for Dickens’ storytelling, and a forceful reminder that Dickens himself subtitled his novella ‘Being a Ghost Story of Christmas’.

Fittingly it opened just in time for Halloween at the Nottingham Playhouse, before sleighing into town for the run up to Christmas. Alexandra Palace, with its flaking façade and decaying Victorian grandeur, is the perfect setting. A touch too cavernous perhaps, which weakens the intimacy, but director Adam Penford’s production is aiming high for the cinematic scope of the supernatural. And in that he certainly delivers. Ella Wahlström’s surround sound could have come straight from the Dolby Laboratories, while Philip Gladwell’s lighting creates a vast spectrum of moods. The icing on the (Christmas) cake is Paul Wills’ set: an alternative, ramshackle, Victorian nightmare crowded with towering filing cabinets and desks, slickly rotating to reveal the cobbled streets, the graveyards, or the coal-fired warmth of family parlous.

The tale opens with a kind of prologue. Whereas Dickens’ famous opening lines describes Marley as being ‘dead as a doornail’, here we meet Marley very much alive. Albeit very briefly, before snuffing it, and then we flash forward seven years into more familiar territory. Keith Allen’s Scrooge is a bit of a bruiser, with a gentleman’s whiskers, unkempt enough to betray his miserly attitudes to all and sundry – including himself. Allen has an eye for detail, and we see in his facial expressions a boyish vulnerability beneath the thuggishness. His redemption is triggered more by fear than a deep-rooted desire to do right. Indeed, Marley’s ghost is a powerful figure in Peter Forbe’s hands; a booming personality that needs the thick mass of chains to restrain him. The three spirits of past present and future are not so spine-chilling, yet all bewitching in their own distinctive way. Particularly Joe Shire as the Ghost of Christmas Present – a throned, genie-like wizard with enough charisma to shake the loose change from the hardiest skinflint’s pockets.

“Whisps of ghosts fly above our heads as spectral carriages soar past the bell tower”

The human factor is a touch lacking, however, and our hearts are not always tugged sufficiently. It is the atmosphere that drives the piece rather than true emotion. Some chinks let sentiment flicker through, such as Tiny Tim’s deathbed scene. When Scrooge asks if these visions are the ‘shadows of things that will be, or the shadows of things that may be’, we do feel a quiver of feeling, but otherwise the true spirit is largely hidden behind the spectacle.

And a spectacle it is. Whisps of ghosts fly above our heads as spectral carriages soar past the bell tower. John Bulleid’s illusions, with Nina Dunn’s video design and Georgina Lamb’s choreography create a magical world that fills the vast, sepulchral space. For much of the time, though, we feel closer to Halloween than to Christmas, until the closing moments when the cast assemble into a Christmas Card tableau. A rousing ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ with gorgeous harmonies precedes a return to the narrator. Throughout, Geoffrey Beevers weaves a narrative thread that allows much of Dickens’ poetic language and humour to shine; into which Gatiss has thrown in a nice twist for good measure.

In the 1843 publication, Charles Dickens wrote in his preface that he has “endeavoured in this Ghostly little book to raise the Ghost of an idea”. Nearly two centuries later this ghost of an idea has grown into a seasonal favourite. Gatiss has added a few ghosts of his own that can only reinforce the longevity of such a classic. A haunting tale indeed, but still traditional enough to immerse us in the Christmas spirit.

Tag Archives: Rebecca Trehearn

BALLAD LINES

★★★★

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

BALLAD LINES

Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★★

“a fearless exploration of motherhood and self definition, powered by a searing score and phenomenal cast”