Play

I walked out of Jurassic still chuckling to myself. This show at Soho Theatre offers plenty of sharp wit and clever twists, with heavy inspiration from a late-night Jurassic Park screening to explore ambition and deception.

Barrier(s) at Camden People’s Theatre is an intimate, quietly powerful production that explores love, communication and the spaces in between. Blending British Sign Language, spoken English and captions into its very form, the piece follows Alana and Katie as they navigate a world that doesn’t always hear or see them. With nuanced performances and clean, honest staging, the show reveals how connection is built gesture by gesture, and how the smallest moments can hold the deepest stakes. A compassionate and essential work about voice, identity and the courage to reach across barriers.

Blending dance, puppetry, and play, Little M turns a classic story into a joyful celebration of difference and discovery. It’s light on dialogue but rich in feeling, the kind of show that keeps kids laughing, adults reflecting, and everyone quietly enchanted by its small acts of bravery.

The Wanderers isn’t a play that shouts, it asks. Under Igor Golyak’s careful direction, Anna Ziegler’s story about two couples becomes a reflection on how fiction shapes our lives and relationships. It’s honest, thoughtful theatre that lingers like an unfinished sentence; something you keep thinking about on the way home.

Calum Finlay’s Fanny is a comedy with music takes a bold “what if” and turns it into a lively portrait of a genius learning to claim her own story. We meet Fanny Mendelssohn at a hinge moment: a career-changing letter arrives for her brother Felix, and she decides to act.

In “By Heart,” Tiago Rodrigues strips theatre down to its simplest form — people, words, and memory. At Battersea Arts Centre, that simplicity becomes magic. The show feels less like a performance and more like a shared heartbeat between audience and stage.

Encountering Split Ends captures the uncanny discomfort of seeing one’s private compulsions exposed in vivid light. Claudia Shnier turns the seemingly mundane act of obsessively trimming hair into a surreal yet searing exploration of control, addiction, and emotional survival, blending humor with heartache and striking precision.

Walking into King’s Head Theatre, you can feel a tension in the air. This is not the kind of show that lets you sit back comfortably. It asks you to lean in, to let yourself be unsettled. Philip Ridley’s debut, The Pitchfork Disney, has returned in a revival by Lidless Theatre under the direction of Max Harrison, and it still feels as sharp and disturbing as when it first appeared. It is less a traditional play and more a waking nightmare, a blend of fairy tale, dark humour and raw fear that leaves you questioning what theatre can do to the nerves.

Walking into Till the Stars Come Down feels like stepping into a lived‑in world of laughter, secrets, and simmering tensions. Set in a former coal‑mining town in Nottinghamshire, the play opens on Sylvia’s wedding morning, capturing that peculiar truth of weddings: ritualised joy masking simmering unrest. Written by Beth Steel and directed by Bijan Sheibani, it unfolds over 24 hours, pulling the audience into a labyrinth of family, class, love—and the things left unsaid.