★★★

“The production is noticeably ambitious … it should be highly commended”

“People on the tube stare, as if they are looking into where my soul should be, and sometimes I hope they might find it.” The setting is a familiar one for any Londoners. We find ourselves watching Claud, as she is waiting for a train at Angel station, when she unexpectedly comes across a ghost, who introduces herself as Ruth. What follows is an intriguing exchange where Claud is finally forced to confront and overcome her own demons to “not let herself rot any longer.”

Never Get to Heaven in an Empty Shell is an interesting one-hander written, performed and produced by Claudia Fielding. Claudia plays our protagonist, Claud, and all of our other characters in the story (including Ruth, the ghost, her brothers and other family members), with an impressive range of accents and impressions to seamlessly slip between different members of the ‘cast’. It is striking how well the solo performer is able to maintain dialogue without faltering throughout the piece. The direction (Anna Rastelli) is similarly on point. This is particularly critical to this performance, as, if the actor had been facing in even the wrong direction at any point, the illusion would instantly crumble. The production is noticeably ambitious, given the size of the cast and set, with what it sets out to achieve and, for this, it should be highly commended.

Early on, we find that Ruth is conspicuously interested in the jumper that Claud is wearing, claiming that it used to be hers. This is a seminal moment in the play. Ruth wants Claud to ‘let go’ of the jumper despite not being able to let go of it herself. Claud doesn’t even like the jumper but claims to still wear it because her sister got it for her. The performance wants to use ‘the jumper’ as a metaphor for holding onto things that are in one’s past that can no longer be changed. ‘The jumper’ in Claud’s life is the death of her father some years before, which she is yet to fully come to terms with. The metaphor is a nice touch but is possibly slightly heavy-handed and not subtle enough to be one of the key features of the plot.

The script also contains a lot of beautiful poetry, which is cleverly written, even with, on occasion, successive lines of the play rhyming. The most notable of this is the titular message: “Never Get to Heaven in an Empty Shell.” This is a slightly less well-known phrase meaning that someone who is emotionally or spiritually empty cannot achieve true happiness.

One gets the impression that this is the key theme that Claudia is trying to convey to the viewers, as a way through her own grief. Many nice but sometimes confusing sub-plots are layered on top of this. Elements such as going to her brother’s wedding in Milan may take away more direction from the plot than they add and at times, loosening the link to the central narrative. However, the play seems to still adequately function as a vehicle for the desired message and cleverly makes fun of an often taboo subject matter.

THE RISE AND FALL OF VINNIE & PAUL

The Glitch

★★★★

“Both actors possess exceptional singing voices — expressive, versatile, and emotionally charged”

The Rise & Fall of Vinnie & Paul explores one of art history’s most infamous fallouts — the brief but intense period when, in the autumn/winter of 1888, Vincent van Gogh and Paul Gauguin lived and worked side by side in Vincent’s little Yellow House in the South of France. What begins as a shared dream of founding an artists’ colony soon unravels into a tempest of clashing egos, artistic ideals, and personal demons — culminating in Vincent’s self-mutilation and Paul’s abrupt departure.

This 60-minute two-hander rock musical blends fact with imaginative interpretation, propelled by a dynamic score and an unflinching examination of genius, obsession, and collapse.

Max Alexander-Taylor is magnetic and heartbreaking as Vincent, capturing the intensity of a man on the brink, whose passion for art masks deepening psychological instability. Nicholas Carter (Paul) is a perfect counterpoint — more restrained, emotionally torn, quietly simmering with frustration. Their chemistry is electric, veering from camaraderie to confrontation in a heartbeat. Both actors possess exceptional singing voices — expressive, versatile, and emotionally charged, moving effortlessly from delicate vulnerability to raw, soaring power.

Neil Bastian’s music and lyrics are a clear highlight. The score feels contemporary yet rooted in character — a mix of driving rock anthems and hushed, lyrical ballads. The opening number, Sunflower Power, sets a sharply ironic tone: Paul suggests Vincent has a sunflower seed in his brain and warns the audience he’ll be “cutting off his ear by the end of the hour” — a dark, witty line that chillingly foreshadows what’s to come.

This leads into a beautifully observed scene depicting Paul’s arrival in France, marvelling at the brilliance of Vincent’s sun-drenched summer work. In A Fistful of Brushes, the two duet with infectious optimism, declaring “colour is our new religion.” But harmony is short-lived. Paul learns he has sold a painting in Paris — while Vincent remains unsold.

Like a Painter Man reveals Paul’s growing doubts, and his suggestion in Take a Trip to Your Mind that Vincent paint from imagination proves dangerous. Vincent’s mind is not a safe place to linger. In Way Past Midnight, Paul recounts a disturbing nocturnal episode in which Vincent scrawled “I am the Holy Spirit” on the wall — a clear sign he is unravelling. News of Vincent’s brother Theo’s engagement — the man funding their lifestyle — proves the final blow, prompting Paul’s suggestion that their artistic experiment has failed — triggering Vincent’s downward spiral.

The following three numbers — Me and My Friend, Welcome to My Funeral, and Wheatfield with Crows — chart Vincent’s descent into psychosis, his self-mutilation, and eventual suicide, reported two years later in a newspaper Paul reads alone. The show ends with Red is the Colour, a haunting duet that mingles grief with a flicker of hope.

Kirstie Davis’ direction makes sharp use of the intimate studio space. A few simple props — stools, an easel, a trunk — create a shifting world that always feels alive. The tight staging amplifies the claustrophobia of their partnership; when violence erupts, it’s all the more shocking. Lighting is used with precision and symbolism: warm ambers give way to stark, envious greens, and in the climactic moment, a flood of red saturates the stage. Silhouette work adds visual intrigue, suggesting fractured selves and internal ghosts — as if we’re witnessing both the men and their demons.

Ryan Anstey’s sound design lends emotional and psychological texture. Natural sounds — wind, birdsong, rolling waves — gradually give way to something darker. During Vincent’s breakdowns, we hear echoes of voices in his head: his father’s stern religious teachings, inner criticism, mocking judgement.

The Rise & Fall of Vinnie & Paul is a fascinating, emotionally raw, and musically rich new work that — despite being a shortened version of a full-length musical in development — feels remarkably complete. It distils a fraught, complex relationship into something both theatrical and truthful — a vivid exploration of artistic brilliance, mental illness, and the volatile intimacy of creative partnership.

Tag Archives: The Glitch

NEVER GET TO HEAVEN IN AN EMPTY SHELL

★★★

The Glitch

NEVER GET TO HEAVEN IN AN EMPTY SHELL

The Glitch

★★★

“The production is noticeably ambitious … it should be highly commended”

NEVER GET TO HEAVEN IN AN EMPTY SHELL

The Glitch

Reviewed on 2nd July 2025

by Luke Goscomb

Photography by Lulu Bradshaw

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE RISE AND FALL OF VINNIE & PAUL | ★★★★ | April 2025

NEVER GET TO HEAVEN IN AN EMPTY SHELL

NEVER GET TO HEAVEN IN AN EMPTY SHELL

NEVER GET TO HEAVEN IN AN EMPTY SHELL

THE RISE AND FALL OF VINNIE & PAUL

★★★★

The Glitch

THE RISE AND FALL OF VINNIE & PAUL

The Glitch

★★★★

“Both actors possess exceptional singing voices — expressive, versatile, and emotionally charged”