SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

★★★★

“A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft”

There are some stories that shock because of their subject matter and some that are disturbing due to the knowledge that they are true. Claudio Macor’s one-act play, “Savage”, has both of those qualities. And more. One minute we feel as though we are in a horror fantasy spoof (the psychotic doctor injecting monkey testosterone into an innocent victim’s testicles), the next we are watching a searingly tender love story.

There are further layers added – some explored with deeper insight than others – as we are transported back to 1940s Denmark during the Nazi German occupation. Macor takes us beyond the stolen kisses in darkened doorways into what was really going on behind those doors. And although a screen shields the operating table, we can clearly see the vicious cogs that powered this savage regime. Danish born Nikolai Bergsen (Kerill Kelly) and American Zack Travis (Matthew Hartley) meet at the notorious Corner Light Club in Copenhagen, a place under constant watch by the Schutzstaffel (Hitler’s paramilitary police) for evidence of the “disease” of homosexuality. Late one night, Nikolai is picked up, beaten up and dragged into Nazi sympathiser Dr Vaernet’s surgery for the so-called corrective treatment that will cure him of his ‘sickness’. It is a Kafkaesque scenario that beggars belief – the temptation to storm the stage and intervene is strong, such is the authenticity of the performances.

Both Kelly and Hartley capture the mix of passion and danger inherent in their love affair with enough realism to suggest that it might not survive the forces that oppose it. Mark Kitto’s Dr Vaernet cuts a gruesomely sadistic figure made more horrific by his detached coolness and willingness to kowtow to the SS. His assistant nurse, Ilse (played with a potent stillness by Claire-Monique Martin), is all subservience on the outside, but inside the fire of resistance burns passionately below the skin. Meanwhile Tom Everatt is the symbol of oppression in the form of Obergruppenführer General Heinrich von Aeschelman – a nasty piece of work. Reflecting Macor’s writing, Everatt’s performance borders on comedy, strengthening the cynical, satirical parody that is warranted.

There are dark secrets – that I won’t spoil for you. Jonathon Nielsen-Keen is a striking presence as drag cabaret artist Georg Jensen, who rises above victimhood to expose the hypocrisy and deadly double standards of the authorities. Rounding off the impressive ensemble is Simon Chappell’s Major Hemingway whose late appearance in the story in no way undermines his importance.

Macor beautifully marries the tenderness with the savagery, and the skill of the writing is in the detail. Callous asides speak volumes. “The cure will make more space for the Jews” is the appallingly sickening justification for the rush to free up the camps. Lines like these are simultaneously easy yet impossible to miss in the dialogue that is finely researched. Last staged in London ten years ago, Macor has shortened his script into a finely honed drama, condensing the action into one act. It is an important and frightening piece of history that, in this team’s hands, doesn’t come across as a documentary. Director Robert McWhir’s simple staging allows the emotion to shine without overshadowing the brutal reality of the events. Aaron Clingham’s music provides an authentic sense of the period while Richard Lambert’s minimal lighting enhances the stark atmosphere – although the use of two small, flat-screen monitors to pinpoint the various settings is unnecessary, and anachronistically out of place.

Perhaps a little too much pruning has taken place. There are times when we feel the characters could be explored even further. But on balance, Macor has pretty much hit the spot. A succinct epilogue reminds us of the cold fact that this is a true story. A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft. Heart-breaking and savage, it would be a crime to overlook.

SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

Reviewed on 27th February 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Savage

★★★

“predictably raunchy and as fluffy as a feather boa”

If nothing else, “Boys in the Buff” captures a zeitgeist of the millennium with its central theme becoming more pertinent day by day. ‘How do I look?’ is the question on most people’s lips, no more so than for the five characters who are about to bare all to an eager audience urging them on in their quest. They begin by addressing their own insecurities about their body image and self-perception but end up in total celebratory mood in true ‘La Cage aux Folles’ style. The intention is to lead us to the same conclusion about ourselves, but the superficiality and gloss of the presentation never lets us forget we are watching a musical revue in which the actors are playing the part. This is cabaret – and we get a fine ‘willkommen’ while our troubles are left outside.

The show follows Maxie (Tish Weinman) and the ‘boys’ as they prepare for a Full Monty-esque strip show. Swift introductions are followed by shared back stories that are more like soundbites from a self-help manual. Nevertheless, write Chris Burgess injects doses of humour into the dialogue, the monologues, and the song lyrics. The musical numbers are what truly bring this show alive with its cascade of catchy songs and derring-do dance. Director and choreographer Robbie O’Reilly has had her work cut out with the vast array of genres and musical styles, but she rises to the occasion with quite stunning routines. From the opening Fosse pastiche of the title song onwards, no style is left unturned.

The sheer variety works well. One minute we are in music hall territory (which sometimes feels it might teeter over the end of the pier), the next we are in a Weimar era basement. There is ragtime, disco, calypso and tango, belle époque and hip hop. Boy band power ballads jostle with smooth swing. A touch of tap, and a sprinkling of ballet and even a bluesy rendition of Shakespeare’s ‘To Be or Not to Be’ soliloquy. But what they all have in common is that they are all instant ear worms, and the combination of the clever lyrics and the fine vocal and physical performance are a delight to watch. The music is pre-recorded, but musical director Aaron Clingham and Andy Collyer’s arrangements place us firmly in the setting that each song suggests. Richard Lambert’s lighting enhances the moments with its rich mix of moods and atmosphere.

The show belongs to the performers. An ensemble piece that lets each of them shine. The characterisation is thin, but these boys are thick as thieves. Weinman undoubtedly rules the roost with their seasoned panache and outrageous command of the stage. There is Phil (Adam Norton) who is unsure if he can go through with the gig, whereas Dan (Rowan Armitt-Brewster) can’t wait to get his kit off. Luca (Max Rizzo) spends too much time at the gym while Richard (Liam Bradbury) merely looks as though he does. All four are beautiful in their own right, with toned physiques to match, yet – and here’s the crux of the show – their susceptibility to societal pressure and their self-doubt force them to see themselves differently. They relate their own experiences of bullying, body shaming and body envy. That these issues defy gender or sexual orientation is effectively enforced, and the fact that it is done in such an entertaining way makes the message more relatable. That said, a little less eye candy on the stage, and a little more meat on the script would make it easier to swallow.

But this is light entertainment at its peak. Above all it is fun. It is predictably raunchy and as fluffy as a feather boa. Despite its all revealing climax, what is ultimately exposed is the talent of the performers. And that’s the naked truth.

Tag Archives: Richard Lambert

SAVAGE

★★★★

White Bear Theatre

SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

★★★★

“A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft”