★★★★

A sharply drawn, heart‑tugging comedy that sails between humour and humanity with effortless charm

Alison Carr’s All at Sea is a fantastically tense deep dive into deceit and the limits to withstanding manipulation. An intriguing fictionalisation based on the infamous “disappearance” of John Darwin or ‘Canoe Man’ back in the early 00’s, this play dives deep into the twisted (and comical) fabrication of a man’s death and the pressure for his wife to spin debt-provoked lies. This play does very well to alter details of the story and make for an up-to-date imagining of what it might take to hide faking you (or your husband’s) death.

Maria Crocker’s direction feels natural and intuitive to the needs of the play, leaning into the light and shade of the script when it feels just right to. The audience trust that wherever the limits of the piece are pushed, Crocker ensures everything is grounded in precision and surprising choices that make you sit right up in your seat, just when you think you know what is coming. Actors, ‘Sarah Belcher’ (Deborah) and ‘Phil Corbitt’ (Colin), lunge out of darkness and transition seamlessly into the next steps of their schemes, and feel immediately trusted to handle the pace of the writing. Though the piece is undoubtedly quite funny, there are many moments this humour could go even further. It would be good to see the physical comedy of the play pushed even further to its limits to match the wit of the script- especially as sharply directed physicality breathes such life into so many of the piece’s most chilling moments.

Both actors bring this two-hander to life in different ways, letting the masks of their characters slip just the right amount. Admittedly, it takes a moment for the characters and script to interlock neatly with one another for the first while of the play, but once Corbitt and Belcher are off, there is no stopping them. The horror and tension of recontextualised dialogue is disgustingly good- both portraying their characters with true conviction and great force. Corbitt’s strength lies in his physicality; bringing Colin’s most grotesque qualities to the forefront with striking choices that make the character so easy to hate. Belcher is an incredible face actor, who brims with talent as she delivers hauntingly pathetic monologues. Her delivery of writing call-backs makes for some of the most hair razing moments of the piece.

Set across months spent in the couple’s ironically ‘live, laugh, love’ sprinkled living room, the production is brilliant at re-inventing itself through clever design and spoken recontextualization. Hannah Sibai’s set and costume design compliments the twists and turns of Carr’s winding script and creates a playfully macabre space for the action to race towards its climax. Gauze and trapdoors create some of the show’s most eery and unexpected moments and allow the cabin Colin’s cabin fever to seep through the stage.

This is all supported beautifully by Catja Hamilton’s entrancing lighting design, which plunges each scene head-first from tailspin to tailspin. Alongside Hamilton, Roma Yagnik (the show’s sound design and composer alongside Ziad Jabero) never opts for the obvious choice. The lighting and sound play off each other with electric chemistry deserving of the strength of acting and keeps the audience firmly on their toes throughout.

This play is a truly successful and fascinatingly empathetic perspective on the weight of upkeeping your spouse’s deception. All at Sea is a darkly funny exploration of the lengths people have gone to escape financial burdens and the waves they must ride to suffer the consequences of their actions.

HAMNET at the Garrick Theatre

★★★

“The story is gripping, and the performances are strong”

It is a hard task to adapt an incredibly popular and deeply literary novel for the stage, especially one which spans decades, cities and narrative voices. This adaptation doesn’t quite carry the romantic and ethereal genius of its source text, but it is brave enough to carve its own path through the story. It rushes along as a love letter to the emotional power of theatre.

Agnes is the peculiar orphaned daughter of a sheep farmer, who falls for the quick tongued Latin tutor, known better as William Shakespeare. The first half follows their romance and their struggles with their respective families, particularly William’s cruel and violent father. The second half jumps a decade, and surrounds the personal heartbreak which inspires, so this play supposes, one of the greatest tragedies ever written.

Lolita Chakrabarti’s adaptation is direct, emotionally honest and blunt. Sometimes this is an asset, allowing the emotional truths to be laid bare, but sometimes it lacks subtlety. The high-octane emotions, especially at the beginning, do feel a bit distancing at times, and it would have been interesting to explore a more layered complexity, especially in the couple’s relationships with their parental figures. The time jump in the middle, which brings the twins to the forefront and allows the piece a greater emotional depth, also stunts the development of the romantic centre. In some ways this does work, as by shifting the focus from the romance, the script is able to build its own identity, separately from the novel. Some of the strongest moments come with William’s players, and their plans for a new playhouse. Converting the stage into The Globe for the final scene is magical, and the joy and power of theatre is beautifully explored here.

Erica Whyman’s direction gives Hamnet significant momentum, hurtling along with a terrible, inevitable dread. There are some really beautiful moments to be found, but often they come in the pauses, when the play lets itself breathe. Some of this energy comes from the choice to cover each scene transition with a jaunty tune (Oğuz Kaplangi). This is also interspersed with sinister breathing and whispering, by sound designer Simon Baker. However, because many of the scenes are short and sharp it does stilt some of them, and prevents us from sitting with what we have seen.

It is a large cast, which serves to flesh out the rich world of the play. Madeleine Mantock’s Agnes is fiery and bold, contrasting and complementing Tom Varey’s William who is more pent up. For me the standouts, were Ajani Cabey and Alex Jarrett as the tragically fated twins. Cabey’s performance was beautiful, showing both incredible grace and joyous mischief. Jarrett was also excellent, bringing a tragic complexity to a grieving child, and one of her speeches was, for me, the emotional punch of the whole performance. Special mentions must also go to Gabriel Akuwudike’s Bartholomew whose excellent comic timing was a joy and Sarah Belcher who as Joan had a real grasp of her emotional levels, and brought a huge amount to what might’ve been a one note character.

Tom Piper’s set is ingenious, quirky and fun. Two levels framed by wooden ladders allow the cast to scamper up and down and all around, making use of every inch of the space. Using wood gives it an earthy feel, connected to Agnes’ natural healing. Prema Mehta’s lighting design brings harmony to this playful and warm set.

As an avid fan of the novel, I wanted to love this play. While I respect its ability to make the story its own, for me the emotional build felt rushed, and didn’t pay off. The story is gripping, and the performances are strong. But there is a bit of magic missing, which is what made the novel unique, and without which, the play is left feeling a little hollow.

Tag Archives: Sarah Belcher

ALL AT SEA

★★★★

Live Theatre

ALL AT SEA

Live Theatre

★★★★

A sharply drawn, heart‑tugging comedy that sails between humour and humanity with effortless charm

ALL AT SEA

Live Theatre

Reviewed on 29th September 2026

by Molly Knox

Photography by Von Fox Promotions

ALL AT SEA

ALL AT SEA

ALL AT SEA

Hamnet

★★★

Garrick Theatre

HAMNET at the Garrick Theatre

★★★

“The story is gripping, and the performances are strong”