Tag Archives: thespyinthestalls

ATLANTIS

★★★★

Minerva Theatre

ATLANTIS

Minerva Theatre

★★★★

“Thought-provoking, moving and superbly acted”

We often encounter climate change as data: rising temperatures, shifting predictions and alarming forecasts. Emily White’s Atlantis transforms those abstract figures into a deeply human story of loss and survival. Inspired by the true story of a North Welsh coastal community forced to leave as the sea gradually encroached and investment in sea defences ceased, the play follows one family over almost three decades as they confront the slow loss of the place they love. Rather than focusing on environmental catastrophe alone, White explores its impact on relationships, asking how political conviction and activism can unite generations while also exposing deep divisions.

The story centres on grandparents Gwen (Vivien Parry) and Bryn (Richard Elfyn), whose coastal bungalow has been their family’s safe haven, a home they hoped would endure for generations. When they learn it will eventually be surrendered to the sea, the news threatens not just their future but that of their widowed daughter Claire (Catrin Aaron) and her children, Philip and Rhiannon, who share the home. As the years pass, each responds differently to an increasingly uncertain future, creating a drama in which love, grief, hope and frustration constantly compete.

The play asks uncomfortable questions without offering easy answers. Is recycling enough? Is changing individual behaviour enough? Does direct action achieve anything? White never attempts to resolve these dilemmas, instead acknowledging the helplessness many people feel in the face of such an overwhelming problem.

There are moments when the writing becomes a little too on the nose, particularly when characters voice ideas that might have been more powerful left implied. Yet these passages are balanced by generous humour and genuine warmth. White understands that families continue to laugh, fall in love and tell stories even while the world around them changes.

At the heart of the production are Vivien Parry and Richard Elfyn, whose deeply lived-in performances anchor the play. They capture the ease, affection and occasional frustrations of a couple who have shared a lifetime together, with every glance, gesture and teasing exchange suggesting decades of familiarity. Their repeated retelling of the story of how they first met becomes a touching running motif that gathers considerable emotional weight by the play’s conclusion.

The wider cast is equally strong. Catrin Aaron convincingly conveys Claire’s exhaustion and increasing reliance on alcohol as she juggles low-paid care work, motherhood and later caring for her ageing parents. Rex Bamber and Iris Dempsey bring a cheeky playfulness to the young Philip and Rhiannon, while Alfie Llewellyn captures the older Philip’s desire to escape the uncertainty of his childhood through his relationship with the more affluent Astrid (Sara Otung). Eirlys Lovell-Jones is compelling as the older Rhiannon, bringing a steely determination and emotional conviction to a character who carries forward the play’s most urgent questions about personal responsibility, activism and the choices we make in the face of an overwhelming crisis.

Guy Jones directs with confidence, allowing the intimate family scenes to carry as much weight as the broader political concerns. The shifts across nearly thirty years feel fluid, and the production resists melodrama even as the stakes steadily rise.

Frankie Bradshaw’s design, built from elements that suggest driftwood and sailcloth, evokes both the family’s weathered bungalow and the coastline itself, creating a constant reminder of the sea’s looming presence. Holly Khan’s sound design is particularly effective, creating an ever-present atmosphere of sea and weather that gradually intensifies as the environment becomes increasingly threatening.

Ultimately, Atlantis succeeds because it refuses to reduce the climate crisis to slogans, although we see plenty of those on protest placards. Instead, it examines what environmental change means for one ordinary family, while reflecting a much wider human experience. Thought-provoking, moving and superbly acted, it reminds us that the climate crisis is not just about statistics and forecasts, but about homes, histories and the people whose lives are transformed by forces beyond their control.



ATLANTIS

Minerva Theatre

Reviewed on 22nd July 2026

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 

 

 

 

ATLANTIS

ATLANTIS

ATLANTIS

HERE COMES J EDGAR!

★★★★

King’s Head Theatre

HERE COMES J EDGAR!

King’s Head Theatre

★★★★

“As history, it’s candy-coated; as theatre, it’s a joy: an immaculately performed comedy”

The all-singing, all-dancing Here Comes J. Edgar! lifts the veil on what secrets a man must keep to satiate the power of love and the love of power.

J. Edgar Hoover was the most feared man in twentieth-century America. Founder of the modern FBI, he was the blackmailer-in-chief whose filing cabinets kept a succession of presidents awake at night. Here Comes J. Edgar! gives him the full Technicolor musical comedy treatment. This is the Disneyfied version of the Hoover story: the surveillance, the secret files, the whispers about his ‘life-time assistant’, about dresses and strands of pearls, all rendered in the bright, brassy idiom of golden-age Broadway. The point is made that his own underworld connections led to the FBI shifting focus from organized crime to ‘anti-Communism’. The audience can join the dots regarding how that might have contributed to modern America’s underbelly. But the show would much rather you tapped your foot. Mostly, you can’t resist.

The pedigree is extraordinary. Book and lyrics are by Harry Shearer (This Is Spinal Tap, The Simpsons) and Tom Leopold (Seinfeld, Cheers), with music by the late Peter Matz, arranger of Barbra Streisand’s early albums and musical director of The Carol Burnett Show. The evening gives ‘mid-century Broadway heyday’ in spades thanks to director Josh Seymour and Olivier-winning choreographer Bill Deamer. The intimate King’s Head auditorium turns it up close and personal.

At the centre, making his London debut, Bryan Batt is outstanding. Best known as Mad Men’s Salvatore Romano, Batt is a Broadway veteran, and it shows. His Hoover is preening, vain, dangerous and yet touching, a monster who believes himself to be the hero. Batt relishes the part.

He is surrounded by a great ensemble. Hugo Bolton makes a devoted, wounded Clyde Tolson. Marc Elliott rattles through Walter Winchell’s staccato gossip with glee; Laura Medforth veers between poise and barely restrained sexual frustration as Helen Gandy, keeper of the files; and Judith Owen brings smoky authority to the Lady in Red. The production looks a treat (set, Sophia Pardon; costumes, Tom Paris; lighting, Jamie Platt; sound, Nick Lodge), all sequinned with a G-man’s edge.

Matz’s score is generous to a fault: the numbers keep coming. The pastiche is affectionate and expertly built. Ben Ferguson’s orchestrations keep it all fizzing. However, ballad is laid upon ballad to the point where a red editing pen could be deployed to good effect. The other issue keeping the fifth star locked in the filing cabinet is the lack of a single showstopper to send you out, humming along Upper Street.

But what timing for the show’s opening! The machine created by J. Edgar Hoover has surfaced in the rumour mill’s eerily similar functioning surrounding another powerful, long-standing, homophobic American political figure who died last week. Indeed, an American musical this pointed taking its world premiere in Islington rather than New York may be the evening’s driest joke of all.

As history, it’s candy-coated; as theatre, it’s a joy: an immaculately performed comedy.



HERE COMES J EDGAR!

King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed on 16th July 2026

by Elizabeth Botsford

Photography by Mark Douet


 

 

 

 

HERE COMES J EDGAR!

HERE COMES J EDGAR!

HERE COMES J EDGAR!