Isobel Lewis

For many a middle class British family, there’s nothing more Christmassy than a seasonal trip to the ballet. Usually, it’s the only time they watch dance in the year, so they want something well known: Tchaikovsky, ideally. But anyone who casually grabs a ticket to Duck Pond, Aussie circus company Circa’s rebellious take on Swan Lake, expecting a classic retelling of the popular ballet will be left bewildered by this ugly duckling mash-up of a show. I mean that in a good way. Duck Pond, which premiered in Brisbane last summer, takes the best of Swan Lake, then twists it. The skill and control of the most classic ballet is on display, but sliced in between body-contorting acrobatics, heart-raising lifts, and even slapstick comedy. When the original score is played in Jethro Woodward’s score, it’s remixed with a heavy trap beat. At just 80 minutes in length, the show packs in material, and manages to be funny, scary, and even kinda kinky; one particularly tense moment sees the Black Swan (Kimberley Rossi) threaten to puncture the skin of a near-nude male performer as she steps on him in sharp red stilettos. Not your standard Christmas fare, but thoroughly entertaining.  With so many stunts on display, the plot to Duck Pond is somewhat secondary (although by no means an afterthought). We watch a sea of swans, identically dressed in shimmering black bodysuits that accentuate every sinewy muscle, every sharp rib beneath. They tumble in twos and threes, then coalesce for group stun

This Christmas, an estimated 9.3 million people in the UK will face hunger and hardship. While most of us tuck into their turkeys, some parents will be unable to treat their children, or choose to go hungry themselves so their loved ones can eat. They’re strange stats to mention in a review of a Christmas show, but ones playwright Chris Bush clearly wants us to think of with Robin Hood and the Christmas Heist, as she plays into the whole ‘robbing from the rich to give to the poor’ aspect of the Nottingham folk tale Sure, there are more mentions of anarcho-socialism than your average festive production, but musicals with political bite are what we've come to expect from the Standing at the Sky’s Edge writer. Yet for all the show's focus on privilege and power, director Elin Schofield prevents her Robin Hood from feeling like a sermon. The production is a little overstuffed, but it makes for an enjoyable evening of theatre: one that’ll make you think, not just feel festive. Against the icy tones and natural details of Anisha Fields’s set, we’re introduced to the inhabitants of Sherwood Forest, all dressed in muted tones and textured fabrics befitting a Toast catalogue. Robin (Matthew Ganley) and his Marian (Emma Manton) reside in the woods, looking after the local children – played by the Rose’s Youth Theatre company – amid the bitter chill of winter. They’d do anything to keep the kids happy and warm, even if it means sacrificing their own food. Usually, the people of Sherwood

In recent years, the Bush Theatre has become London’s premium venue for gripping dramas about complex families and the secrets hidden between the generations. From Beru Tessema’s ‘House of Ife’ to Ambreen Ramzia’s ‘Favour’, these shows have a shared visual language too, wherein the stage at the Bush’s main space is transformed into a family home rich with detail and personal touches.  ‘My Father’s Fable’, directed by Rebekah Murrell, is the Bush’s latest production to riff on family secrets and identity, and while not quite as polished as some of the other offerings, it still packs a punch. Written by actor Faith Omole – best known for her role in Channel 4’s ‘We Are Lady Parts’ and the National Theatre’s ‘Standing at the Sky’s Edge’ – it centres on a British-Nigerian family who find skeletons emerging from the closet after the death of the family patriarch. Designer TK Hay’s set is the warmly lit front room where history teacher Peace (Tiwa Lade) lives with her boyfriend Roy (Gabriel Akuwudike). Peace and Roy appear the happy couple, but the jagged crack that cleaves through the ceiling of their home hints that things are more fractured than they seemed. The pair split up following the death of Peace’s father (who exists in the show as a whispery voice), but have since reunited and are now considering a potential move abroad. Yet Peace, unsure if she can leave her co-dependent mother Favour (a sublime Rakie Ayola) behind, is burying her head in the sand. Besides, it’s not th

British playwright Sami Ibrahim’s 2022 play ‘two Palestinians go dogging’, was a divisive one. Some praised the experimental dark comedy, set in Palestine in the year 2043. Others didn’t really know what was going on. But critics echoed that, no matter what, this unrelenting show stayed with you. Ibrahim’s follow-up, ‘Multiple Casualty Incident’, is just as unforgettable. In Jaz Woodcock-Stewart’s production, we’re thrown in with a group of employees at a medical aid charity who are in the second week of training before entering an area destroyed by war. Palestine isn’t mentioned by name, but after six months of stories from Gaza, it’s hard not to think of it. On stage: four figures, in what appears to be an unused office. It’s a matter of weeks until they fly across the world, and they need to be prepared. ‘We’re not political, but we do have a duty of care,’ group leader Nicki (Mariah Louca) warns. So they role play, assigning themselves as medical professionals and ‘primary actors’. Morals are easy to have in a philosophical debate, but how would they actually behave in these real-life real-life trolley problems? It might not sound like a laugh a minute, but there’s a lot of levity in Ibrahim’s script. The characters giggle in the room too, then unconvincingly caveat: ‘Sorry, that’s bad’. Among the trainees, the two doctors rub each other the wrong way. Sarah (Rosa Robson) is forthright and snarky, prone to the exact kind of ‘Guardian moral bollocks’ that Dan (Peter Corboy