Review: The Bogus Woman, Z-arts, Curtis Productions and Theatre by the Lake - 11th September 2015

Looking at the current climate (today the Guardian ran an article called 'A Day on a Refugee Ship' whilst the DM ran a uncharacteristically sympathetic (*cough*) story on the plight of disabled refugees), The Bogus Woman, an uncompromisingly frank documentation of an African refugee’s bleak, inevitably hopeless grasp for safety on UK shores, couldn’t be more bang on time or smack closer to home. Krissi Bohn executes this revival of Kay Adshead’s hard-hitting, gut-punching play with an inexorable energy that far eclipses your average bee-hive and leaves you with a far worse sting. An inspiring one-hander that never once strays into the tempting yet tediously fatal pit of self-indulgence; Bohn, under the flawless eye of director Zoe Waterman, springs seamlessly between 30 plus characters, oozing cocky revulsion as a bigoted official one second and bumbling as an affable ex-Eton type solicitor the next. A gutsy and unflinching confrontation that teases out glimmers of hope before wrenching them from under your feet; The Bogus Woman is a must-see show for anyone who has ever taken for granted the four walls around them, the wallet in their pocket or settling in for the night, securely locking their front door and getting a good night's sleep. 4/5

Review: Dead Dog in a Suitcase, HOME Manchester, 16th September 2015

With two and a bit hours of gloriously aggressive assaults to the senses; Kneehigh don’t fail to disappoint as they smash into HOME with their retelling of John Gay’s ‘The Beggars Opera’. True to form, it’s Kneehigh’s good old singing and dancing with a solid sprinkle of bawdiness, a few puppets, cross-dressing, colourful language and a couple of willies thrown in for good measure. The performers spurt pure vocal and musical gold, with standout prowling from the hilariously deranged Mrs Peachum whose bafflingly energetic performance brings to mind Cher, Mrs Lovett and my Auntie after a bottle of Pernod. However, this opera ain’t forgetting it’s Brechtian roots; the play crashes to a graphic, unsettling halt which sits uncomfortably with the toe tapping sordid sexiness of its preceding acts, a conclusion which menacingly disperses the lingering darkness that's been trapped in the floating noose the whole time.

Would I go see it again? Absolutely, do you want to go? Yes? Let’s mash it.

Spoiler alert. It doesn’t end well for the dog. 

4/5