Tag Archives: Soutra Gilmour

KIMBERLY AKIMBO

★★★

Hampstead Theatre

KIMBERLY AKIMBO

Hampstead Theatre

★★★

“a polished, enjoyable production with plenty of charm”

After a multiple Tony award-winning Broadway run, ‘Kimberly Akimbo’ arrives in the UK. Though brimming with heart and hope, it never quite finds the edge it needs to resonate deeply.

Kimberly is running out of time. Born with a rare condition and ageing four times faster, Kimberly hatches an unlikely plan to make her dreams come true.

With a Tony-winning book and lyrics from David Lindsay-Abaire, ‘Kimberly Akimbo’ blends an offbeat coming-of-age story with a poignant bucket-list tale. Kimberly’s impending mortality – tragically on the cusp of adulthood – gives the story emotional weight, while her spectacularly dysfunctional family justifies her quest for autonomy. Yet despite a cast of flawed, often unlikeable characters, it rarely mines enough grit to offset its rather relentless optimism. The cheque-fraud strand feels oddly consequence-free, sidestepping the real stakes of Debra’s scheme, while Kimberly’s condition – inspired by a very real condition called progeria – is treated more as a narrative device than a lived experience. Overall, teen angst and premature mortality make for a compelling setup, but the emotional payoff falls short.

Jeanine Tesori’s score is consistently inventive. The conversational, quirky ‘Hello Darling’ offers an insightful glimpse into Pattie’s psyche, while ‘How to Wash a Check’ turns criminal activity into comic chaos through the teenage gang’s ineptitude. The finale, ‘Great Adventure’, lands with real poignancy, shifting between major and minor chords as it captures hope and heartbreak. Not every song may stick in the memory, but together they form a distinctive and effective whole.

Director Michael Longhurst makes impressive use of a relatively small cast, with inventive staging and a versatile revolving set conjuring multiple locations with ease. The transitions are slick, the pacing brisk, and the characters feel well rounded. Again, the sweetness could use more bite to sharpen its emotional impact, and some relationships feel a little lightly drawn. The central romance may also raise eyebrows given the actors’ age gap. Still, it’s a polished, enjoyable production with plenty of charm.

Soutra Gilmour’s design is a triumph, centred on an ingenious multi-level set that effortlessly shifts locations while incorporating lighting and projection surfaces. Jack Knowles’s lighting adds flair and focus to key moments, while Paul Groothuis’s sound design is atmospheric if occasionally overpowering the vocals. Luke Halls’ video design delivers a poignant glimpse of the life Kimberly fights to experience.

Multi-Olivier Award winner Maria Friedman captures Kimberly’s youthful optimism and insecurity with real sincerity. While there is room for greater emotional contrast in places, she remains in fine voice, delivering every song with warmth and honesty. Alice Fearn’s deadpan Debra cuts through the sweetness at just the right moments, providing the perfect counterpoint to Friedman. Peter Hannah and Niamh Perry as Buddy and Pattie Levaco expertly portray flawed parents whose love is buried beneath years of baggage. Gilli Jones brings both sweetness and resolve to Seth, making his connection with Kimberly wholly convincing. Meanwhile, Sara Hajizadeh, Ronav Jain, Robin Simões da Silva and Aviva Tulley form a superb teen quartet, their impeccable harmonies and comic chemistry providing some great highlights.

‘Kimberly Akimbo’ may be more charming than profound, but its warmth, wit and strong performances make the adventure worthwhile.



KIMBERLY AKIMBO

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 24th September 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Marc Brenner


 

 

 

 

KIMBERLY AKIMBO

KIMBERLY AKIMBO

KIMBERLY AKIMBO

MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS

★★★★★

Edinburgh International Festival

MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS

Edinburgh International Festival

★★★★★

“a work of rare ambition: visually striking, musically daring, dramatically urgent”

Scottish Ballet’s Mary, Queen of Scots opens with Elizabeth I illuminated in a pool of light as white petals fall — winter, the end of a life. On her deathbed, she recalls her cousin and rival, Mary. From the first image, this is a dance of power, rivalry, and survival.

Directors Sophie Laplane and James Bonas construct a narrative without words, weaving gesture, image, and movement into a tapestry of grief, betrayal, and destiny. Their choreography blends lyrical pointe work with physical, almost sculptural, contemporary movement. A simple set of shifting white walls, designed by Soutra Gilmour, traps and releases the dancers, creating psychological intensity one moment and expansive space the next.

The production is rich in visual symbolism. Cabinets of curiosities act as both hiding places and portals; walls rise and fall like barriers of state; shadows transform dancers into spiders weaving the webs of their lives. Anouar Brissel’s projections are beautifully mapped across surfaces, while Bonnie Beecher’s lighting design is poetic and inventive, carving images of power and fragility. Costumes, too, flow seamlessly with the dancers’ movement — never ornamental, always integral.

Laplane and Bonas’s sense of dramatic storytelling ensures the work never drifts into abstraction. They create tension between characters, then expand it into group action charged with psychological weight. Themes of duality echo throughout: two queens, two crowns, black and white, snow and feathers, mother and son, past and future. A striking black-and-white pas de deux. Nothing is ever simple. Darnley and Rizzio dance a brotherly duet that evolves into a bro-mantic, then passionate, encounter. Boys being “boys” — choices that lead to tragic ends.

The company dances with precision and unity, moving like a murmuration of starlings — fluid, synchronised, yet alive with individuality. The seriousness of the subject never excludes joy. Bursts of Scottish identity punctuate the movement: a Highland fling erupts into the pointe work, playful steps lighten sombre passages, and even a regal walk becomes a witty parallel stroll en pointe or a bourrée on the knees while walking a wheeled dog. These touches bring levity without breaking the intensity.

The score, composed by Michael P. Atkinson and Mikael Karlsson, is itself a pas de deux. Classical and traditional styles collide with contemporary soundscapes, reflecting the complex interplay between history and the present. Conducted by Martin Yates and played with clarity and power, the music gives the production its heartbeat.

Mary, Queen of Scots, succeeds not just as a retelling of history but as a work of metaphor and resonance. It conveys the inexpressible: the loneliness of power, the fragility of legacy, the impossibility of reconciling opposites. Black and white never blend into grey; they remain in stark, unresolved tension.

By the close, many threads are drawn together with impressive coherence. Elizabeth looks back on her life, while James — the future king — steps forward into his reign. It is an ending that is both inevitable and moving.

Scottish Ballet has created a work of rare ambition: visually striking, musically daring, dramatically urgent. Mary, Queen of Scots, balances symbolism with storytelling, history with humanity. It is dance-theatre of the highest order — and a triumph.



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS

Edinburgh International Festival

Reviewed on 16th August 2025 at Festival Theatre

by Louis Kavouras

Photography by Andy Ross

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARY

MARY

MARY