Tag Archives: Rosie Elnile

R.O.I (RETURN ON INVESTMENT)

★★★★

Hampstead Theatre

R.O.I (RETURN ON INVESTMENT)

Hampstead Theatre

★★★★

“enough twists to match those of a corporate knife in the back”

There are few tales of corporate hubris to match that of Theranos; how wide-eyed Elizabeth Holmes – now jailed – conned millions from seasoned investors with the promise of a pin-prick diagnosis that never worked.

It was a potent fable of utopian optimism and human greed.

R.O.I. (Return on Investment) follows in that bloodline, but writer Aaron Loeb declares this a post-Theranos piece, not least because the world-changing medical advances of PreCure appear to work.

Loeb himself used to live in the San Francisco Bay area and is a gaming entrepreneur, so he tackles his subject – the hollow twang of venture capitalism – with an authentic curiosity.

The prospect of curing cancer and ending Alzheimer’s may hold the hope of legacy but – as grizzled veteran of the internet boom Paul Melrose declares – “It is never, ever bigger than the money.”

He is mentoring his “work-daughter” and partner May Lee (precision engineered by Millicent Wong) and between them they represent different eras of the tech boom. May has a millennial sense of impact and purpose. Melrose (a charismatic and wry Lloyd Owen) just wants to win. He argues that “the only way to fix this world is to make it profitable to do so”.

PreCure is the brainchild of evangelical Willa McGovern (a wily Letty Thomas) who begins the piece fumbling a set of handwritten pitch cards but quickly has May and Melrose riding on the back of a billion-dollar unicorn.

The scene is set then for a generational battle, about values, about private funds and public health, about the wider purpose of capitalism. But the play fidgets: it doesn’t like these genre restrictions and wants more.

To that end, Willa reveals a much darker side.

With a handbrake screech, she offers some radical views and indulges in some wild conspiracy theories that prove an existential challenge to the three-way relationship.

This reveal demands a leap of faith not only from May and Melrose but from the audience as well. We need to be assured Loeb knows where he’s going with this.

Truth be told, it’s unclear for a time.

Indeed, there is a degree of preposterous overreach in scenes where the threesome reveal dastardly truths about each other during a very public hearing before Congress.

But, ultimately, Loeb lands it, courtesy of a production that is confident, exuberant and packed with ideas. If high stakes corporate skulduggery is your thing, you’ll take it in your stride.

To assist, designer Rosie Elnile has created a slick set with digital backdrops and neat gadgetry, while director Chelsea Walker keeps the pace brisk.

The cast is accomplished, albeit working with characters that function largely as cyphers. The storytelling, however, supplies enough twists to match those of a corporate knife in the back.

 



R.O.I (RETURN ON INVESTMENT)

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 16th March 2026

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Marc Brenner


 

 

 

 

R.O.I.

R.O.I.

R.O.I.

THE VIRGINS

★★★

Soho Theatre

THE VIRGINS

Soho Theatre

★★★

“The writer has this gossipy girl talk just right and it’s exquisite”

Virginity, and the loss thereof, is a big money game.

Miriam Battye’s playful script initially lowers the stakes when sweet 16-year-old pals Jess and Chloe convene in the bathroom ahead of their big night out at Lizard Lounge.

The plan is simple, pull a boy then back home sans conquests for chicken dippers and a sleepover.

No reason to be scared. Boys are, after all, “just us, flattened out”.

But the arrival of Anya (Zoe Armer) changes everything. She’s in the year above Jess (Ella Bruccoleri) and Chloe (Anushka Chakravarti) when such gradations matter. Also, she’s made the biggest leap of all and, get this, she’s had sex, actual sex.

The virginal duo becomes a trio with the arrival of perplexed Phoebe (adorable scene stealer Molly Hewitt-Richards) and they all have many questions for Anya – and even more reservations.

Rosie Elnile’s set is split in two, the bathroom on the left and on the right the living room. This is where Chloe’s drippy brother Joel (Ragevan Vasan) is hanging out with cool-as-they-come gym buddy and dullard Mel (Alec Boaden) playing video games.

More on them later, but for now, the mere presence of boys in the house and the hint that Jess may have a crush on her bestie’s dweeb bro adds immediate tension.

Anya changes the rules of the game: Boys in the living room. Let’s get to work, girls. These days we can have it all, no consequences.

In Battye’s twinkling play these bathroom scenes are a joy and a highlight. At one point the girls are all crammed in the bath, as if this is their life raft on a sea of hormones, confusion, shame and uncertainty. The three innocents stared doe-eyed at Anya and each must figure out if losing the big V is a big thing, a small thing, nothing at all or a necessary evil.

The writer has this gossipy girl talk just right and it’s exquisite.

In contrast, what we find in the living room is an absence of anything remotely resembling a boy. Boys don’t talk like girls – they banter, the belittle, they boast – but Joel and Mel’s rare and gnomic utterances are dead on arrival.

The drama is entirely uninterested in the plausibility of the jock and the spineless milksop as friends and Mel’s mini info dump about why modern girls are to blame for modern boys is spurious and inert.

Perhaps Battye is making a point about boys as objects, as alien creatures. But the half and half staging suggests otherwise. On one side, we have natter and nuance, on the other, lumpen lads soaking up real estate.

That is one letdown. The other comes with director Jaz Woodcock-Stewart’s curious pacing. The whole thing is an elongated 85 minutes but could have been a swift and much funnier 65. There are enough comedy smash cuts to move it into the territory of screwball sex comedy – but the director clearly pines for Pinter.

When the girls take over the living room, they suffer from the same torpor, and the pacing never recovers. Yes, there are darker elements at play here, and painful confessions, but they are low-key and strangely lost.

There has been much hype about this play, selling it as a kind of bawdy romp for Gen Z. Battye means to say something meaningful about sex and identity and for that – and for the laughs – she deserves all the plaudits.

But the play is strangely hurried in the key moments and painfully slow elsewhere, making for a night that is as unbalanced as teetering Phoebe on vodka and lemonade.



THE VIRGINS

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 5th February 2026

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Camilla Greenwell


 

 

 

 

THE VIRGINS

THE VIRGINS

THE VIRGINS