★★★★

“a beautiful tribute to the lives of Ukrainian war survivors”

Dash Arts has brought to life transcripts of Ukraine War survivors, creating a wonderful verbatim art piece that reminds us not to forget the people behind the numbers. Co-written by Anastasiia Kosodii and Josephine Burton (also director) in collaboration with The Reckoning Project and Public Interest Journalism Lab, amongst many others, it’s clear how much heart went into this play.

The show introduces us to two of the performers Simeon Kyslyi (Sam) and Olga Safronova (Olga). Both performers are from Ukraine and came to the UK after the war started. They tell us some of their story, helping contextualise the world for the audience and remind us of the war that continues on. Often, in times of tragedy, it can be easy to disassociate from feeling when not directly involved. Seeing war images on the news everyday for example; as each day goes by you skip it even quicker. Having Kyslyi and Safronova on stage not only makes the play more authentic, but it’s an effective way to allow audience members to gently step back in to that place of empathy; via that human connection. They multirole as different people throughout the show, as well as guiding the action with different forms of physical theatre choreography. There are several points in the play, where emotional tension is high that they return as themselves to speak to the audience once more. This included a lovely moment where they shared a traditional Ukrainian salad, and recalled memories of eating it as children in Ukraine.

The majority of the action is led by The Journalist (Marianne Oldham) and The Man from Stoyanka (Tom Godwin). The Journalist talks to the man through his recalling of where he was and what he did when the war started, how he was the only survivor in his town and how he was eventually mistaken for a Russian and brutally interrogated as a result. Throughout their interview, the Journalist speaks to other survivors, played by Sam and Olga who once again shine in their performances as many different characters. This included one incredibly touching story who ran from home to a train station to try and see her husband who was killed in an attack from Russia. The audience was in tears many times. There were parts where I could feel, the cast were nervous and potentially falling behind their own pace. This did not deter from the entire piece, however.

The play is well supported in the intimate staging in Studio 2 of the Arcola. You feel at home with these people. Before the play began, Sam and Olga are on stage picking up the bricks and rubble that are arranged as being fallen from the wall, until eventually they are built back up again. Two wooden triangles are used to hold up a table, that is moved for different purposes throughout the show. Final pieces of set (designed by Zoe Hurwitz) include an oven and a cupboard which held various food items used throughout the performance. The lighting (Joshua Pharo) provided clarity throughout the interview sections and then would boost the action with various shadows and colours, including a nod to the Ukrainian flag with yellow and blue spots at some points.

Overall, The Reckoning provides a beautiful tribute to the lives of Ukrainian war survivors, and reminds us why these stories need to keep being told through the use of utter respect and very strong performances.

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

Barbican

★★★★★

“Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision”

In its Barbican transfer, director Jordan Fein’s revelatory Fiddler on the Roof retains the elemental power that made it a five-star phenomenon in Regent’s Park. He strips the beloved 1964 musical of its nostalgic veneer to expose something more potent and contemporary: a raw and resonant meditation on tradition, displacement, and the endurance of community.

Fun, too, in case there should be a misunderstanding. Great fun.

Set in 1905 in the menaced Jewish shtetl of Anatevka before the Russian revolution, Fiddler follows Tevye, a weary but devout milkman, as his five daughters begin to choose love over arranged marriage, and the outside world encroaches upon his way of life.

Anchored by songs like Tradition, If I Were a Rich Man, and Sunrise, Sunset, it’s long been cherished for its warmth and wit. But Fein’s version – subtly but decisively restaged – asks more interesting and topical questions too: what happens when the traditions that once sustained a community begin to fracture under the weight of change? What is the true impact of displacement, of a people menaced from their homes?

Where the musical was once critiqued as “shtetl sentimentalism,” this staging leans into pared-down grit, stoic humour, and haunting lyricism. There is a modern feel to the witty script – and to the resolutely ambiguous ending.

Tom Scutt’s gorgeous design is emblematic of the approach: instead of quaint rooftops, we see cornstalks uprooted and suspended above the stage, evoking both harvest and trauma. The titular fiddler (a magnetic Raphael Papo) becomes not just a symbol but a shadowy companion, echoing Tevye’s inner world with eerie cadenzas and an eventual duet with Hannah Bristow’s Chava – whose marriage outside the faith breaks her father’s beleaguered heart.

The huge cast is potent, using impressive numbers to magnificent effect, a dream sequence appearing like a fully-realised Hollywood dance number. Meanwhile, Adam Dannheisser’s Tevye is no grandstanding showman but a wry, tired father trying – and failing – to hold his family together through reason, prayer, and rueful monologues. His comedic timing is sharp and he plays out with great relish the classic sitcom paradigm of the father and husband who declares his dominance only to have it slyly eroded by the headstrong women around him.

But it’s his gentleness that resonates most, particularly opposite Lara Pulver’s commanding Golde, whose grounded and wary pragmatism keeps the domestic scenes taut and touching.

Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision. The Bottle Dance at Tzeitel’s wedding is performed under a canopy that rises and falls. On top of that precarious canopy, and ominous, the fiddler makes clear that everything is poised on the brink of a mighty disaster. The Russians are coming.

The cast functions as a true community, especially in the spine-tingling finale as they sing Anatevka, their voices braided with longing, resilience, and bitter clarity. In a final image, the toppled milk cart, beautifully lit, appears like an oil painting. Everywhere, indeed, there is beauty and catastrophe.

One of Fein’s many achievements lies in his refusal to oversell modern parallels. The production trusts its audience to make the connections – to recognise in Anatevka’s forced dispersal the long shadow of global displacement. It neither moralises nor rants; it simply tells the story with integrity and emotional intelligence.

For all its sumptuous visual invention and musical flair, Fiddler is most powerful in its silences: a father cut off from his daughter, a community carrying candles into the dark, a fiddler playing an aching lament.

THE RECKONING

Arcola Theatre

★★★★

“a beautiful tribute to the lives of Ukrainian war survivors”

THE RECKONING

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 4th June 2025

by David Robinson

Photography by Ikin Yum

Last tens shows reviewed at this venue:

THE RECKONING

THE RECKONING

THE RECKONING

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

Barbican

★★★★★

“Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision”