Tag Archives: Review

EDGAR A. POE’S LAST CALL

★★★★

Camden People’s Theatre

EDGAR A. POE’S LAST CALL

Camden People’s Theatre

★★★★

“a haunting homage that keeps Poe vividly, painfully present”

Scott Robinson, an American actor, writer and producer, delivers an accomplished performance as the troubled writer and poet Edgar Allan Poe in Last Call an atmospheric hour-long blend of poetry, music and storytelling. Framed around the final moments of Poe’s life, the piece begins not in the theatre but in the bar – an apt setting for a man long reported to have struggled with alcohol. Here, Poe introduces himself to us with disarming warmth. He is confused, certainly, but not the caricatured madman or hopeless drunk of popular imagination. Instead, Robinson presents a man on the cusp of a second chance, speaking of his intention to remarry.

Once we move into the studio space, Poe’s geniality remains, but it is joined by loneliness and a deep sense of torment. Robinson guides us through an edited version of Poe’s life, interspersed with readings from his poems and nods to his wider body of work. The grief, loss and ghosts of the past haunt this Poe just as his stories would later haunt generations of readers.

Robinson’s Poe is warm, witty and tormented, a refreshingly human take on a literary giant. His portrayal does not lean into the anxious, unreliable narrator familiar from Poe’s short stories. Instead, what we see is a subtler, more human figure – a choice that suits the intimacy of Camden People’s Theatre studio space.

The sparse set enhances the haunting mood. Browns dominate, with a single glowing yellow lantern at the forefront inviting us to sit “deep into the darkness peering” as Poe rifles through his faded cream papers and his hoard of lingering memories. It is a minimalist staging, but everything has purpose, and the dark costume design of Jevyn Nelms fits seamlessly within it.

Allison Casey’s sound design, paired with original music by Dale Stuckenbruck, conjures noises both real and imagined as fragments of Poe’s past drift in and out like half-remembered dreams. Tina Marie Seera, James Smillie and Morgan DiTaranto provide recorded vocal textures that break up the tone, while Robinson punctuates his own performance with snaps, claps, and slams that sustain the tension.

Jacqueline Scaletta’s lighting design is subtle yet bold when required. Blue lamp light and sudden washes of red during Poe’s more grotesque recollections add emotional colour without overwhelming the space.

For those familiar with Poe’s work, Last Call offers particular pleasures. A must see for Poe fans, the solo show is rich with references, readings and atmospheric detail. Robinson references well known works such as The Tell-Tale Heart and delivers a compelling reading of The Raven. Shannon Patterson’s direction keeps the piece tightly constructed and well paced, yet it ultimately feels more like a reverent portrait of Poe than a deeper interrogation of the human condition, leaving us questioning why this story is being told now, and by this version of Poe.

Still, that is a minor quibble. The piece fits the fringe festival ethos beautifully and would sit just as comfortably at literary festivals. Poe – who spent most of his life in financial hardship and achieved global, lasting fame only after his death – thanks the audience for keeping him alive as the final poem, the mournful Annabel Lee, closes the evening with a reminder of the love and loss that shaped his life, and the dilemmas of judgement and criticism that shaped his legacy.

The play is a haunting homage that keeps Poe vividly, painfully present, and is to be recommended.



EDGAR A. POE’S LAST CALL

Camden People’s Theatre as part of Camden Fringe

Reviewed on 12th August 2026

by Robert West


 

 

 

 

LAST CALL

LAST CALL

LAST CALL

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

★★★

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

★★★

“the sheer sense of fun ultimately wins us over”

There are little pockets of history that often go unnoticed until brought to the attention of an enterprising and energised theatre company. I, for one, was unaware of the true historical epidemic known as the ‘Dance Plague’ that struck Strasbourg in 1518. Judging by this current stage adaptation, the four actors (Caoimhe de Brun, Harrison MacDonald-Taylor, Sam Trotman and Finn Tickel) re-enacting the events are just as much in the dark. Armed with a basic scrapbook of archival material, they take creative licence to the extreme and “fill in the gaps”, as they repeatedly tell us – even in song.

The ‘Dance Plague’ was a bizarre outbreak of frenzied, uncontrollable dancing. The phenomenon began with a single woman – Frau Troffea (Caoimhe de Brun) – dancing silently in the scorching summer heat for nearly a week. Others joined in and at its peak over four hundred people were afflicted, many of whom danced until exhaustion, heart attacks or strokes claimed their lives. Speculation as to the cause was rife. Theories included crops poisoned by a hallucinogenic fungi, spider bites, stress related mass hysteria, overheated blood or divine punishment for their sins. Suggested cures were equally outlandish, but eventually the ‘choreomania’ subsided by itself after a couple of months.

The four cast members play an impressive number of characters, from a king to a street beggar with everything in between. It takes a while to reach the heart of the story; the narrative waylaid by the brazen artistic liberty the writers, Tickel and Trotman, have taken. The premise is that four musical theatre actors are holed up in a rehearsal room equipped with the title of the show, but little else. They are busking it. This quasi-improvised approach blends well with the self-mocking delivery that is often funny and always chaotic. Shades of Monty Python appear unexpectedly, adding to the silliness of the proceedings. The pizzazz of the performers has to be applauded, each a fireball of energy unfazed by the frequent prop and set mishaps and Harry Heslop’s erratic and often misbehaving lighting.

It is a tough act to pull off entirely successfully. It is without doubt an adult show, masquerading as a ‘Theatre in Education’ touring act. Littered with profanities, bawdy humour and morally controversial innuendos, the whole evening is presented in a consistently exaggerated style as though we are primary school kids with a microscopic attention span. With references to ‘Six’ and to ‘Hamilton’ we are told, at one point, that “history lessons can be fun”. Much of the exposition could, and should, be curtailed; while the repeated conceit that these characters are ad-libbing way out of their depth promptly loses its punch.

Tickel and Trotman’s songs are a mix of the inventive and the generic. With a three-piece band of keys, drums and guitar, the arrangements lack the drive of the cast, invariably leaving the actors to motor on with the musicians meekly following behind, the instruments lying too low in the mix with little variety or texture. A couple of numbers stand out. ‘Bottom of the List’ is a fun and clever number, and ‘The Priest Song’ allows Trotman to channel Tim Curry’s Rocky Horror campness – albeit in a cassock instead of a corset. ‘Dance Fever’, the closing number for Act One, is a medley of references that defies logic and formula but is a fitting showstopper.

The company are clearly enjoying themselves, and the sweat pouring off them by curtain call matches the sweat they have clearly put into the production. Yet despite the maelstrom of activity, there are moments when the piece lags. But when the momentum picks up, and new characters emerge again (how many can you fit into a two-hour show?) we are joyfully back on board. Fast paced and physical it sometimes trips over itself but, unlike Noga Gilboa’s cardboard set, manages to stay standing to the end. It just needs a touch more solidity to reign in the wafty tangents that waylay the flow of the story. Nevertheless, the sheer sense of fun ultimately wins us over.



THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

Upstairs at the Gatehouse as part of Camden Fringe

Reviewed on 11th August 2026

by Jonathan Evans

 

 

 

 

 

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518