LITTLE M

The Place

★★★½

“with refinement, this heartfelt script has potential to really soar”

Have you ever felt out of place, not knowing why? ‘Little M’ lovingly transforms Hans Christian Andersen’s ‘The Little Mermaid’ into a tender celebration of gender-diverse identities. Aimed at children but with something for everyone, this production is touching, beautiful, and deeply affirming. While there’s room for refinement, it deserves to be seen by everyone – just like Little M.

Caught between worlds, Little M is different. When a suitcase of shimmering human gowns drifts into the grotto, M delights in how wearing them makes them feel – until Grandmother swiftly confiscates everything. Grandmother urges M to focus on their impending coming-of-age ceremony. Excited to finally receive their oyster shells, M longs to place them on their tail like their sister, not their throat as is custom. Once again, Grandmother insists on conforming. When the big day arrives, celebration quickly becomes discomfort as M’s oyster necklace feels suffocating. In a moment of courage, M flees for the human world, starting a journey of self-discovery that leads them to their truth.

Luke Skilbeck (writer and co-director) and Anders Duckworth (co-director) adapt Hans Christian Andersen’s classic tale, using the mermaid’s liminal existence as a poignant metaphor for gender-diverse experience. With sensitivity and soul, the story affirms gender-diverse lives as natural and beautiful. It explores profound themes with striking emotional clarity for a children’s show. The ending is a compelling reminder of why stories like this are still so important, offering hope and belonging to those who need it most.

However, not everything lands. The mix of on- and offstage voices, while conceptually bold, sometimes disrupts pacing. Mid-conversation shifts between dialogue and dance feel a little disjointed in places. The beachcombing crab is amusing but underdeveloped. A couple of plot points lack clarity, such as M’s first encounter with the Prince and the delayed significance of the multicolour chokers. Still, with refinement, this heartfelt script has potential to really soar.

Duckworth’s choreography blends mime with a range of dance styles, including Indian classical, ballet and contemporary, to craft a rich, expressive narrative. The child-friendly emphasis on accessible movement is balanced by moments of subtlety. A standout moment is the inventive two-person witch, lending the character an eerie, otherworldly presence. Still, some moments – like two somewhat static swimming sequences – would benefit from more dynamic choreography to really elevate the piece.

Nicole Raymond and NikNak’s composition and sound design drive the emotional landscape, elevating the choreography with precision and flair. Their score moves fluidly between rhythmic drive and atmospheric subtlety, using music and ambient soundscapes to shift the energy and deepen the storytelling.

Dancers Jose Funnell, Áine Reynolds, Naissa Bjørn, and Tylee Jones bring vivid characterisation to the stage, highlighting their versatility across styles and emotional registers. Their expressive performances make each character feel fully realised and relatable, though a touch more precision, such as finishing the lines, would sharpen the overall impact.

E. M. Parry’s design – supported by set design associate Kit Hinchliffe, costume associate Eve Oakley, and puppet co-designer Scamp Niemz – is out of this world. The rich and imaginative visual world conjures sea and shore with striking simplicity. Staging, costumes, puppets, props, and set feel meticulously crafted yet effortlessly fluid. Repurposed sea debris evokes the ocean with texture and authenticity while gesturing cleverly to the climate crisis, finding unexpected beauty in the most mundane objects. Carey Chomsoonthorn’s lighting design is stunning, conjuring land and sea with beauty. Whether illuminating the serenity of the shoreline or the characters’ inner turmoil, the lighting adds depth and texture with remarkable sensitivity. The overall design effect is magical.

‘Little M’ is an imaginative, emotionally resonant piece inviting audiences of all ages to engage with complex themes. While there’s room for refinement, its spirit sings, honest and undeniable. This is bold, beautiful, and necessary theatre, and I’m excited to see how it grows.

LITTLE M

The Place

Reviewed on 24th October 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Camilla Greenwell

Previously reviewed at this venue:

JAZZ CONVERSATIONS | ★★★★★ | September 2024

LITTLE M

★★★★

“opens with swagger and closes with vulnerability”

Many a young boy dreams of being a stuntman – until reality throws the first punch. ‘Stuntman’ is a tough yet tender take on violence and masculinity, examining what it means to be male in modern society through a compelling mix of physicality, dance, speech and sign language. It swings with force and feeling and would be a knockout save for an unusual structure.

Presented by the Scottish company, SUPERFAN, and based on true events, we meet Sadiq and Fox executing violent stunts while exploring how they got into stunt performance. Scenes which start off playful and stylised become more extreme and realistic. The intervening stories dig deeper, deconstructing masculinity with fierce vulnerability. By the end, you’ll question your own conception of manhood and wonder who really benefits from society’s expectations.

Co-devised by Pete Lannon, Fox Banks and Sadiq Ali, ‘Stuntman’ has a loose narrative, feeling like a series of chapters linked by a common thread. Each section explores male-on-male violence, culminating in a heartbreaking reflection on male self-expression and disconnection. The final sequence of a distressed Fox and Sadiq repeatedly leaning on one another before pushing the other away shows this with devastating clarity. It’s a timely, powerful piece. That said, there’s far more movement than speech, with the almost endless murder scenes (each repeating “See you in hell motherf*****!”) starting to feel superfluous. I long for more dialogue to really dissect the emotional core, especially Sadiq’s perspective which is relatively underexplored. Though perhaps that’s the point: all too often, men are socialised to lack the vocabulary.

A devised piece directed by Lannon, ‘Stuntman’ has an autobiographical, immersive quality: we find our seats while the men laddishly fool around; we are addressed directly and even ‘shot at’ at points (don’t worry, there are no weapons). There are clever contrasts between Fox’s two fight monologues, one as glorified and stylised as a movie scene, the other starker and more honest. The river scene hits hard, as Fox and Sadiq hauntingly repeat ‘I didn’t know what to do’ while apologising to each other – heart wrenchingly beautiful. The pacing could be tightened, with some overly long pauses losing momentum at points.

The choreography (Lucy Ireland) steps in when words fail, sweeping, striking and reaching for an elusive form of expression and cleverly incorporating BSL interpreter, Iain Hodgetts. The score (Richy Carey) mixes music with fight effects and ambient sounds, layering reality upon the otherwise abstract scenography (Rachel O’Neill) and transforming movement into a tightly executed dance. O’Neill’s set evokes a boxing ring, complete with canvas. The lighting design (Michaella Fee) mixes brash bulbs with a suffusive tonal palette. The costumes build up and then strip away the machismo.

Fox Banks and Sadiq Ali are totally in sync throughout, giving each other a quick nod before launching into the next section. Ali is a beautiful dancer, deftly executing impressively acrobatic and subtly nuanced moves. Banks demonstrates power and perseverance, especially when repeatedly hitting the deck at the end of a rope. Both deliver earnest and moving monologues, pushing the boundaries before straining at the limits of society’s expectations.

‘Stuntman’ opens with swagger and closes with vulnerability – a brave, bare-knuckle dive into modern masculinity. Don’t miss it, even if I’d swap some combat for more connection.

Tag Archives: The Place

LITTLE M

★★★½

The Place

LITTLE M

The Place

★★★½

“with refinement, this heartfelt script has potential to really soar”