Moratorium on the phrase “northern soul” in reviews. What are you talking about?

Peter Mullan is on Kop form as Bill Shankly, even if I’m not sure Phillip Breen has found the best way to tell his story on stage theguardian.com/stage/2025/apr…

I thought Manhunt's final act was strong, after a clumsy start. But I'm not sure it had enough to say to justify making it - I'm sure Icke's said art shouldn't offer easy answers, but that's largely what I feel we got here upstagereviews.wordpress.com/2025/04/13/man…

I think if you’re going to get away with programming your own play to open your first season, it probably needs to be better than this. But it has a couple of nice performances and a vibrant set

Hamlet Hail to the Thief is a discordant union of Shakespeare and Radiohead on.ft.com/43h8gm5

Radiohead chief bleaksmith Thom Yorke has (co)created this doomy bleakfest for everyone who thought Hamlet could do with being more bleak and doomy. I wasn’t convinced it gains as much as it loses ft.com/content/17bc79…

Horrendously overripe music, Ewan McGregor coasting while Elizabeth Debicki looks constantly incredulous at the awful lines they’ve been asked to say to each other… Lila Raicek’s Disaster Builder

Happy birthday Mill Media

Caught up with Till The Stars Come Down after missing its NT run. A stunningly good play, especially its faultless first half. The kind of show that would work brilliantly in the round at the Royal Exchange, if only it consistently programmed more new writing

Glad to have caught the penultimate perf of this (well, the last one before they perform it at actual 4:48am). It managed to make a long, oblique howl feel naturally conversational and direct. Contemplative but studded with dark bite. “Remember the light and believe the light”

Caught up with the Almeida’s Moon for the Misbegotten last weekend, which, despite a nice performance from Ruth Wilson, on the whole for me felt destined to be forgotten upstagereviews.wordpress.com/2025/07/27/a-m…

Just out of this - a towering piece of theatre and performance from Lithgow. The way he pouts - somewhere between a sneer and a sickly-sweet pucker. Dragon-like, then retreating into feeble wincing with his ailing back, both sly and pathetic. And equally crafty, needling writing