Tag Archives: Review

WALKING EACH OTHER HOME

★★★

Old Red Lion Theatre

WALKING EACH OTHER HOME

Old Red Lion Theatre

★★★

“a thoughtful and heartfelt piece”

Tim Graves’ Walking Each Other Home opens by inviting us into a set that immediately establishes the emotional terrain of the play: a modest family living room designed by Jason Marc-Williams and Noah Cousins. Beside the sofa sits a cluster of cards featuring family members, a simple but effective visual device that hints at memory, loss and fractured relationships before a word is spoken.

We first meet Frank Maloney, played by Christopher Poke, an elderly man living with early-stage dementia. Poke gives Frank a layered and deeply sympathetic presence. At times bewildered, at times lucid, Frank drifts between confusion and clarity, uncertain of the day, the moment, or even who is standing in front of him.

Into this uneasy domestic space arrives Frank’s son Michael, played by Edward Fisher, returning from Peru with a backpack and years of unresolved pain. From the outset, we understand that Frank often believes Michael is dead, a heartbreaking symptom of his condition. Their reunion is therefore not one of warmth but of collision: old wounds resurface immediately, and bitterness between father and son dominates the room. Michael’s sexuality, and Frank’s historic discomfort with it, becomes one of the central fault lines of the drama.

What emerges between them is not only estrangement but an ongoing contest. Father and son seem locked in a competitive game for emotional ground: who has been more wronged, who deserves understanding, who can wound the other first.

Graves begins the play at a high emotional pitch, with anger and trauma already fully ignited. While this gives the opening urgency, it also leaves limited room for the tension to build further. Much of the play therefore sustains the same heightened emotional register rather than developing through shifts in rhythm or surprise.

The production finds welcome contrast in Sandeep Singh, Frank’s live-in carer, played with warmth and precision by Amrik Tumber. Sandeep provides much-needed lightness through dry humour, wit and emotional intelligence, and many of the play’s jokes land sharply and effectively. Sandeep also acts as a mirror to Michael. Where Michael has travelled across the world searching for peace and belonging, unable to find acceptance at home, Sandeep embodies a quieter certainty rooted in family, responsibility and inner balance. Their contrast is one of the play’s most interesting dynamics.

Frank frequently speaks of “visitors” and seeing other people in the room. Whether these figures are hallucinations, memories or something more spiritual is left intriguingly open. Combined with Michael’s interest in Amazonian shamanism and Sandeep’s Sikh faith, these moments give the play an ambitious metaphysical dimension.

There are scenes of real beauty here. Poke is especially moving when Frank confronts his own reflection and no longer recognises himself. Tumber also shines in moments of blunt honesty and tenderness. Fisher captures Michael’s pain convincingly, though the character can feel more symbolic than fully grounded.

Marc-Williams’ direction handles the emotional themes with sincerity, and the play’s core concerns are compelling: intergenerational trauma, forgiveness, queer identity and the need for support systems beyond blood ties. At times, however, the script leans too heavily into repetition, restating motivations rather than trusting the audience to infer them. Some monologues embrace a heightened poetic theatricality that can occasionally feel at odds with the play’s grounded emotional realism.

Even so, Walking Each Other Home remains a thoughtful and heartfelt piece – one about reconciliation, memory and the difficult but necessary work of learning how to forgive. For all their flaws and pain, each of its characters is ultimately reaching toward hope.



WALKING EACH OTHER HOME

Old Red Lion Theatre

Reviewed on 30th April 2026

by Nasia Ntalla

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli


 

 

 

 

WALKING EACH OTHER HOME

WALKING EACH OTHER HOME

WALKING EACH OTHER HOME

UCCELLINI (LITTLE BIRDS)

★★★★

The Coronet Theatre

UCCELLINI (LITTLE BIRDS)

The Coronet Theatre

★★★★

“deeply evocative and unpredictable”

Like a sighting of an unfamiliar bird out of its usual habitat, Italian playwright Rosalinda Conti’s “Uccellini (Little Birds)” is spotted hovering on the London theatre scene. It is a fragile creature, nocturnal and fleeting, delicately structured and fearful; but one that can surprise us with moments of ferocity if disturbed. The play exists in a twilight zone, somewhere between the heart of nature and the intellect; between the living and the land of ghosts. Nesting in the shadows of fairytales. It takes some concentration perhaps – performed in Italian with surtitles, making it difficult to focus on the stage and the translated dialogue at the same time – but the rewards are magical.

The setting is a woodland cottage, deep in the forest. Once a family home, it now echoes with ghosts of the past. A voiceover asks us to imagine the scene, as if Marco Rossi and Francesca Sgariboldi’s set wasn’t enough. An authentic, country kitchen lies behind a gossamer gauze, in constant half-light as the story drifts through the small hours and into the dawn. Shadow projections on the gauze, conceived by Alessandro Ferroni in collaboration with Malombra, lead us through the forest. Sometimes we are in the treetops, sometimes down in the fauna. Sometimes in the tangled and thorny briar that conceals a fabled castle. At other times it is smeared with raindrops, or with condensation, that tries to conceal truth. It is like we are watching; and not wanting to be seen.

Luka (Francesco Villano) has arrived with his girlfriend Anna (Petra Valentini). At midnight it will become Anna’s birthday. It seems an odd choice of celebration, especially with Anna’s severe fear of birds, and with the trepidation with which Luka revisits a house evidently filled with past traumas. The house, however, isn’t empty as they had expected. Luka’s brother Theo (Emiliano Masala) has preceded them and made himself at home. A fourth character is a constant presence; suspended in the air, and in the brothers’ minds: a twin sister, Matilda, whose mysterious disappearance and/or death haunts the cottage as much as their own memories.

The atmosphere is electric. Directors Alessandro Ferroni and Lisa Ferlazzo Natoli tease out the story, dropping little hints and discoveries for us to follow, like breadcrumbs to help us find our way back again. The three performances are deeply evocative and unpredictable. Valentini captures the fear of a caged bird one minute while giving the impression that it is, in fact, her own will that keeps her from flying away. Villano and Masala, as Luka and Theo, have an instinctive sibling chemistry. They each have their own version of the past. Differing perspectives that clash in a discord. Very occasionally there is harmony, but one wrong note can trigger surprising verbal viciousness.

The play has a unique style. It flirts with realism yet always remains fantastical and fanciful. It is playful but capricious, and we are never too sure which way it will turn. Slightly frustratingly, though, we never really learn of the true motives of these characters; nor is there any true resolve, and reasons are often left unexplained. Yet the freshness of the writing makes it feel spontaneous and real, as though we are witnessing the words for the first time. “Uccellini (Little Birds)” is a collaborative staging by the ‘Lacasadargilla Collective’ and ‘Teatro Vascello’. It has a definite devised feel to it, a touch unpolished, yet firmly rooted in Conti’s finely structured script. Avante-garde and whimsical, while being quite earthy at the same time. Like a little bird that refuses to settle for long, it is only here for a short run, but it is well worth catching while you can. An exotic joy to witness.



UCCELLINI (LITTLE BIRDS)

The Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 30th April 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Claudia Pajewski


 

 

 

 

Uccellini

Uccellini

Uccellini