Group authored publication covering theatre and the performing arts in London and beyond
It’s a production without concept, in which the actors feverishly juggling words, words, words keep revealing brilliant new facets of a familiar text, then tossing them away with spendthrift unconcern.
Her Naked Skin is a bit like its heroine: courageous, demanding, articulate, divided, unpredictable and – despite good intentions – ultimately alienating.
The Edinburgh Fringe is a safe space where the loss of a grand or two equals a successful show and your career isn’t necessarily on the line if your idea doesn’t quite come off.
Although the wordy speeches in The Female of the Species occasionally veer into intellectual spin and overcooked dramatic effects, the auditorium was generally alive with laughter.
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