HIT MACHINE

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“the writing is witty and natural, delivered with authenticity by the actors”

For a play that is not much longer than the average long playing record, playwright Jonathan Caren’s “Hit Machine” crackles with more energy and tension than any piece of vinyl could ever hope for. The scratches embedded in the narrative never halt the narrative’s momentum; instead, the slight jumps make us look at the protagonists in a different way. Caren scours the grooves of his story – set in the modern-day music industry – with a very sharp needle.

The days of 45’s and 33’s are long gone – instead we are in today’s climate of streaming and viral videos (the latter adding an integral layer to the plot). Two brothers are meeting for the first time in quite a while. Wes (Josh Radnor) is a successful music producer, who seems to have lost his mojo, living beyond his means in a nine-bedroom house somewhere in America. His younger brother, Alex (Noah Galvin) has turned up with his head full of hit-song ideas, but empty pockets. He’s not holding out a begging bowl, as Wes suspects though. Just a plea for his songs to be produced. The fact that he is forcibly discouraged by his big brother is a rich theme in itself as it dredges up past rivalries and collaborations; but the play focuses on darker and more personal issues that shape their personalities.

They share the same upbringing, but with very different reactions to it. An abusive father looms large, but the memories are refracted in blindingly opposing directions. Wes was driven towards a means to accumulate wealth to escape, Alex just needed a dream to chase. Caren doesn’t give out too many details, but we certainly feel the essence as the pair duel like manic musicians fighting for their solo. Alex is – initially at least – the more vulnerable underdog, with Galvin giving him a wonderful neediness that is never obsequious. He can certainly give as good as he gets, and Galvin’s shift from rejection to determination is matched by his seamless shifts from anguish to humour. Josh Radnor’s Wes should have the upper hand, but his character’s insecurities keep pulling him down. Radnor gives a masterful performance of a man clutching at anything that will keep him afloat. Even if it means casting off the weight of his past – which includes his brother’s reliance on fraternal support.

Caren throws a third character into the mix. The rising star, ‘Defy the Leader’, has just been signed to Wes’ record label. A cool portrayal by Khalil Madovi, he adds further fuel to the fires that burn in the hearts of the brothers. When ‘Defy’ shows interest in Alex’s tunes, much to Wes’ horror and disapproval, Madovi very cleverly and subtly shows his character’s disdain towards the elder brother’s fragile self-importance.

Throughout, the writing is witty and natural, delivered with authenticity by the actors. Daniel Bailey’s direction enhances the dynamics, throwing the light and the shade into sharp contrast. He knows when to go for the laughs, and when to switch the momentum away from the comedy. There are, indeed, some devastating moments in the dialogue, especially later when the sparks truly threaten to ignite the tinder box of emotions. A moment of physical violence unfortunately dampens the effect, and could perhaps be dispensed with. Coming to actual blows is less powerful than the language. Contrary to the popular catchphrase, words often do hurt more than sticks and stones.

For a play about the record industry, the music itself takes a bit of a back seat. Instead, though, it slots effortlessly into the dialogue; almost conversation pieces in themselves. Unresolved ideas and chords emerge like memories, or even forewarnings, until the pieces come together for a thrilling finale, performed by Madovi (who co-wrote the music with Ben Harper and CJ Harper). At least the music finds its resolution (I’m not giving any more away).

What makes a hit record, is a question that has eluded producers since the first hit parade was introduced. Similarly; what makes a hit play? Again, the answer is vague, but Caren’s “Hit Machine” is sure to rise up the charts.

HIT MACHINE

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 14th July 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Bautista Araya

HIT MACHINE

★★★★

“his genuine humour and irreverent style keep the piece feeling fresh”

James Barr’s I’m Sorry I Hurt Your Son (Said My Ex to My Mum) arrives at Soho Theatre with the confidence of a show that has already lived many lives. Following more than 130 performances since its Edinburgh Fringe debut in 2024, it’s slick, assured, and clearly battle-tested.

He doesn’t quite start there, though. The opening feels rushed, as Barr races through his first vignette without fully letting the audience catch up or settle into the rhythm of his delivery. It’s a slightly nervous beginning, but a short-lived one. Within ten minutes, he visibly relaxes; the pacing evens out, the laughs land more confidently, and by the final third he’s even laughing at himself, leaning into the material with a sense of ease that feels both earned and infectious.

The show sits firmly within the now-familiar “comedy about trauma” mode that has gained traction since Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette. Barr even nods toward this lineage, referencing legal advice he received about naming and shaming the source of his trauma so he doesn’t get Baby Reindeer-ed. But while the structure may feel recognisable, his genuine humour and irreverent style keep the piece feeling fresh rather than slipping into mimicry.

At its core, this is a show about an abusive relationship. Barr recounts his four years with “Alex”, beginning with a rom-com-worthy meet-cute that rises to first love before slowly unraveling.

As a self-described hopeless romantic, he speaks candidly about wanting to “prove” his worth as a gay man within heteronormative frameworks, both to his mother, the emotionally unavailable Colleen, and to himself. When Colleen receives a Christmas card from Alex with the phrase ‘I’m sorry I hurt your son’ in it, her first response to comment on his lovely handwriting. The mother-son dynamic is one of the show’s more subtle motifs, but does wonders for hinting at the wider context in which Barr’s romantic life has unfolded.

If that sounds a bit heavy, there’s no need to fear. There are sharp jokes throughout, with a particular emphasis on gags about the royals, but the humour never feels incidental. Instead, it functions as a kind of emotional choreography: moments of vulnerability are carefully followed by punchlines, ensuring the audience is never left too long in discomfort. As Barr himself puts it, the laughs are never far away.

This balancing act is key to the show’s success. Barr seems intent on recreating, within an hour, the emotional whiplash of an abusive relationship; drawing the audience into moments of tension before offering relief. The result is that, despite the heavy subject matter (including the sobering statistic that 1 in 3 LGBTQ+ people experience abusive relationships), the evening never tips into bleakness. There are even detours into absurdity – German piss parties among them – that keep the tone buoyant and the audience consistently laughing throughout.

Those familiar with Barr from Hits Radio or his podcast A Gay and a Non-Gay might expect high-energy, irreverent banter. What they get instead is something more layered. As he wryly notes, he’s “doing trauma now”, much like Beyonce is doing country! But crucially, he’s doing it with warmth, humour, and in his own personal style.

Tag Archives: Soho Theatre

HIT MACHINE

★★★★

Soho Theatre

HIT MACHINE

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“the writing is witty and natural, delivered with authenticity by the actors”