★★★

“It is certainly a story that must be told”

The cruel irony of Timberlake Wertenbaker’s play “Little Brother”, adapted from the Guinean writer, Ibrahima Balde’s memoir, is that Ibrahima was initially denied a visa by the Home Office to visit the United Kingdom so he could attend the opening night. They were “not satisfied… that you intend to leave the UK at the end of your visit”. Fortunately, the decision has now been reversed, yet Wertenbaker poignantly inserted the statement of facts into the epilogue, neatly and affectingly rounding off the true-life story of the horrors of migration.

Ibrahima Balde’s story charts his journey across borders, deserts and seas from Guinea to mainland Europe on his quest to find his younger brother. In 2018, towards the end of his odyssey, he met writer and journalist Amets Arzallus Antia in the Basque country that borders France and Spain, and there the search for his brother turned into a ten-month search for the words that would convey his experiences. “My friend, life is not that easy to tell” Ibrahima said to Amets during their first encounter. Knowing that his tale is only one of countless others the world over makes it uneasy listening too.

This adaptation is a stark retelling of the facts. It avoids both sentimentality and lecturing. As a result, however, it lacks the emotional build up needed to fully bring home the horrors of the situation. It is only late in the day, when we feel that Ibrahima’s life is on the line, that we become fully invested in his plight. Only then does Blair Gyabaah (who plays Ibrahima – alongside a supporting cast of four who multi-role as the dozens of other characters) realise the dynamics and breadth of emotion needed to lift the account from narration into a drama. For the most part we are spoon fed the details in a journalistic fashion.

But what a journal it is. We get a fair bit of his background, growing up in a village in the West African country of Guinea, helping his father sell shoes at a street stall while dreaming of becoming a truck driver. Even from a young age, he always felt alone and far away from home, a state of mind heightened by the sudden death of his father. When his younger brother, Alhassane, disappears heading for Europe, Ibrahima leaves everything behind to try to find him and bring him back, risking his own life on his epic journey. We are shown the different customs, languages, landscapes and challenges. But each chapter is a stepping stone, and as we move on quickly to the next, we barely have time to get to know the other characters he meets along the way. The spectrum of life – the chasm between the best and the worst of humanity – gets flattened under the multitude of personalities that appear onstage, for sometimes just seconds at a time.

Gyabaah’s Ibrahima is the anchor; a modest performance, yet strong and holding up against the whirlwind of events. It seems at times that the actor is fighting Stella Powell-Jones’ directorial constraints as much as the cruel twists of fate his character endures, and we get the sense Gyabaah is aching to emote more. At the same time, though, we are left wondering if this is a deliberate ploy, to strip it of sensationalism, in a bid to convey how ubiquitous the struggles of migration are. This show doesn’t overwhelm us, but it does lift a veil to reveal the face of the seemingly nameless people we hear about in the news. In its own way “Little Brother” is a ‘must see’ show. It is certainly a story that must be told. In the closing moments, Ibrahima’s father appears as a ghost to tell him “Son, you must never think you’re the worst off… and you can never say, ‘I’m suffering more than anyone else’”. It takes a while to get there, but finally the heart and soul of the story achieves its poignancy. We learn second hand of the plight of his brother, but the strength of that blood bond that motivates Ibrahima throughout is delivered to us, first hand, with a powerful punch.

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood”

Anna Morris’s darkly comic one-woman play Son of a Bitch arrives at Southwark Playhouse following a successful run at the 2024 Edinburgh Festival Fringe. With a provocative title and an intriguing premise, the show delves into themes of motherhood, societal pressure, and personal regret, balancing sharp humour with moments of introspection.

The play follows Marnie (played by Morris), a yoga instructor in her late 30s, whose life is upended when a fellow passenger records her calling her young son the C-word during a flight. The video goes viral, but rather than focusing on the fallout of this moment, the narrative primarily explores the lead-up to this event, questioning the unspoken realities of motherhood.

Morris delivers an energetic and engaging performance, effortlessly slipping into the various characters that populate Marnie’s world. From her overbearing northern mother to her intensely posh flatmate, Morris’s character work is sharply observed and often very funny. The writing brims with witty one-liners, earning consistent laughs; a line about men who look like prawns and another about depressed women in bathtubs get particularly loud chuckles. There’s a definite influence of stand-up comedy in Morris’s delivery, adding a lively rhythm to the script.

Under Madelaine Moore’s direction, the production is tightly paced and effectively staged, ensuring that the transitions between past and present feel fluid and dynamic. Visually, the production is cleverly designed. The set consists of corporate blue carpeted flooring, a white chair at its centre, and two curved “C” shape structures forming a circular shape behind it; an effective nod both to the claustrophobic setting of an aeroplane and a visual play on the word Marnie uses against her child. Lighting Design by Megan Lucas subtly shifts to reflect different moods: cold and corporate one moment, then warm and golden as Marnie parodies the ‘glow’ of motherhood. Another standout element is the use of captioning, also designed by Lucas. Displayed in a rectangular screen above the stage, the captions adapt in font and style to represent different speakers and even simulate text messages, demonstrating a well-thought-out integration of accessibility and storytelling.

The narrative structure of Son of a Bitch mirrors the spiralling nature of Marnie’s situation, moving fluidly between past and present. While this approach effectively builds intrigue, it could sometimes do with further clarity, with a multitude of names and details occasionally jumping around too loosely. Additionally, while Marnie’s husband is positioned as an unsympathetic figure – choosing to upgrade himself to business class rather than sit with his wife and child – his character feels somewhat two-dimensional, leaving questions about why these two people were together in the first place.

Beneath the humour, the play raises compelling questions about societal expectations of motherhood. A particularly striking moment comes when Marnie is asked whether she would regret not having children, only for her to subvert the question and ask what would happen instead if she regrets having one. There’s also an underexplored but poignant subplot involving a gay friend who reveals that his lack of children wasn’t a choice, but something he had to grieve. These moments hint at deeper, thought-provoking themes, though at times they feel fleeting.

While the play is consistently engaging, its pacing remains largely unchanged throughout. Moments that could have built towards greater emotional intensity or a stronger sense of escalation maintain the same rhythm, which at times lessens the dramatic impact. However, Morris’s charisma ensures the piece remains compelling. She establishes an immediate rapport with the audience, and her command of comedy ensures that the story is as entertaining as it is thought-provoking.

Overall, this is a sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood. While its central premise is striking, the surrounding narrative could delve deeper into its themes. Nonetheless, Morris’s performance is magnetic, making this an enjoyable and insightful performance.

LITTLE BROTHER

Jermyn Street Theatre

★★★

“It is certainly a story that must be told”

LITTLE BROTHER

Jermyn Street Theatre

Reviewed on 21st May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Steve Gregson

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

Little Brother

Little Brother

Little Brother

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood”

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 18th February 2025

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Steve Gregson

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH

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