★★★★★

“a masterclass in restraint, proving how powerful simplicity can be in the right hands”

Underbelly Boulevard Soho launches its final Fringe Fix season before its premature closure in 2027. And what a start – snapping up a Richard Rodgers award and rave Ed Fringe reviews, ‘Penelope’ is a dazzling one-woman musical rich with depth, humour and just the right dose of madness.

We all know Penelope – or do we? This beacon of devotion is done waiting for Odysseus. Over 65 captivating minutes, we drink, curse, pray and unravel with her, before gathering each loose thread again at dawn.

Alex Bechtel, Grace McLean and Eva Steinmetz’s book presents a refreshingly contemporary take on this well-worn saga. Gone is the moral compass of lore – this Penelope swears, gets drunk and rages at her wayward husband with wit and irreverence. But we also get glimpses of the façade, deftly capturing the simmering turmoil of waiting for someone who’s stopped waiting for you.

Bechtel’s award winning score is a triumph: lush, expansive and infused with jazz, blues, folk and pop influences. There are echoes of Jason Robert Brown’s sophistication and Joni Mitchell’s intimacy, though its voice is singular. The emotional breadth is impressive, from the haunting melody of ‘Penelope’, circling like the lonely moon, to the punchy, self-lacerating ‘Drunk Iliad’, every song earns its place. The blend of spoken word and song is finely judged, though I find myself wanting a touch of Penelope’s voice in later sections – especially after ‘Pilgrim’s Song’ where her defiance fades. Overall this is an assured and beautiful work, deserving its accolades.

Steinmetz’s direction deftly marries intimacy with mythic scale, framing the story as a stripped-back cabaret. With nothing onstage but microphones and instruments, the focus on Penelope never fades thanks to the magnetic performances of Grace McLean and musicians Jonnie Grant and Anna MacLean, directed by Bechtel himself. It also highlights the movement: McLean’s expressive stillness is striking, without a single wasted gesture. Gradually, a visual language of flowing motions and ritualised mimes emerges, culminating in a moving wordless sequence of return and reunion. It’s a masterclass in restraint, proving how powerful simplicity can be in the right hands.

The design is also elegantly understated. Lighting traces the passing days and shifting moods with quiet beauty, while Palmer Heffernan’s crystal-clear sound captures every shade of McLean’s voice and Bechtel’s score. Athena’s gloriously bonkers entrance is genius, and Penelope’s deceptively simple white gown is layered with subtle detail.

McLean utterly commands the stage. From her first appearance, wearily waiting for the audience to settle, to screaming into the endless void and even challenging Athena’s will, she breathtakingly fills the space with charisma, power and pain. And then there’s her voice: rich, raw and effortlessly expressive, navigating every twist of Penelope’s emotional journey with masterful technique and mellifluous beauty.

A stellar start for Fringe Fix, and an even brighter omen for ‘Penelope’. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

AN EVENING WITHOUT KATE BUSH

Underbelly Boulevard

★★★★

“It is theatre, cabaret, comedy, music, parody, oratory and pure vocal virtuosity rolled into one”

The title of the show speaks for itself, but just to make sure Sarah-Louise Young announces – from the semi-darkness of the stage – that “Kate’s not there”. This follows with a reassuring “…but you are” as though that is all that matters. First, she wants to determine who ‘we’ are. Young assumes we either a dyed in the wool Kate Bush fan, or one of those poor souls dragged along by said fan. She’s partly right. The point she misses though, in her endearingly modest and self-deprecating way, is that most of the audience comprises fans of Young herself. The show has been doing the rounds for a while now – with sell-out London, Edinburgh and Australia runs under its belt (or red wig in Young’s case).

It doesn’t take long to discover why. Made by Sarah-Louise-Young and co-writer/director Russell Lucas (notice the word ‘made’, rather than written), it is not a tribute act. There are too many ingredients in the making. It is theatre, cabaret, comedy, music, parody, oratory and pure vocal virtuosity rolled into one. Like a delicious muffin baked in Kate Bush’s very own Aga (that simile will only make sense if – or rather when – you go and see the show). Young is adept at dropping inconsequential yet hilarious details that become relevant later in the evening.

Having travelled the world with her show, Young has picked up additional material. What was once an hour long, one-act set is now a two-act show. There is a slight suspicion that she has overstretched herself – a fair bit of the extra time slot is filled with extended audience banter – but there is no doubt her act has stepped up to conquer the West End, whilst winning us over completely. She assuages our fear of the dreaded ‘audience participation’ phrase by making us feel at ease with her wanderings into the auditorium, while her anecdotes meander in equally unexpected directions. Couples are brought onto the stage to provide backing vocals, or to slow waltz while she sings. Young gives the impression she can sing and talk simultaneously. She can also be weird and poignant simultaneously. Her banter is often banal, but always fascinating. And funny. She could get by without singing a note and we would still be captivated.

But when she does break into song, our reaction is epitomised by her rendition of Kate Bush’s “Wow”. Young doesn’t mimic, but she captures the quality and matches the character of the original. The set list is carefully chosen and strung together as a revue – each number a sketch within its own context. “This Woman’s Work” is performed by a cleaner, backstage at the Hammersmith Apollo. “Hammer Horror” is sung by a fan who has broken into Bush’s house and is furtively raiding the kitchen and dishing up supper. Young is dressed as a snowflake for “King of the Mountain”, veiled in black for the gorgeous, piano-led “And Dream of Sheep”; but much of the time she is in a red leotard to accommodate her impossibly swift costume changes. “Babooshka” is sung in Russian, correcting the pronunciation of the title. Young replaces Peter Gabriel’s vocal part of “Don’t Give Up” with her own verses of semi-spoken reminiscences and anecdotes. Other favourites include “Hounds of Love” and the vocally perfect “Army Dreamers”.

And, of course, the one we have all been waiting for: “Wuthering Heights”. For this finale she teasingly turns the microphone towards the audience. On cue, the floor erupts into a chorus of ‘it’s me’ and ‘Cathy’ and pleas to be ‘let in-a-your window’. But the real magic is when Young grabs the spotlight back to reclaim the song. There is comedy in her movement but beauty in her voice. Which sums up the performance.

Has Kate Bush ever been tempted, I wonder, to go and see Young’s show, sneaking into the auditorium to see what it is all about? If you’re reading this, Kate, you really should – you will love it. Something tells me she won’t be reading these words – but whoever is – I’d say the same to you. You really should go and see this show. You don’t need to be a ‘Fan of the Bush’ (Young’s words – not mine) but you will, without doubt, end up being a fan of Sarah-Louise Young.

Tag Archives: Underbelly Boulevard

PENELOPE

★★★★★

Underbelly Boulevard

PENELOPE

Underbelly Boulevard

★★★★★

“a masterclass in restraint, proving how powerful simplicity can be in the right hands”

PENELOPE

Underbelly Boulevard

Reviewed on 4th September 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

PENELOPE

PENELOPE

PENELOPE

AN EVENING WITHOUT KATE BUSH

★★★★

Underbelly Boulevard

AN EVENING WITHOUT KATE BUSH

Underbelly Boulevard

★★★★

“It is theatre, cabaret, comedy, music, parody, oratory and pure vocal virtuosity rolled into one”