Avenue Q first arrived on Broadway in 2003 and, the following year, won the Tony Awards for Best Musical, Best Original Score and Best Book of a Musical. Now, twenty years after its London debut, it returns in a lightly updated production that retains the joy and warmth of the original. While some audience members will no longer know who Gary Coleman is, this Sesame-Street-for-adults show has lost none of its relevance. Its themes of underemployment, self-acceptance, mutual respect and the search for connection feel just as timely now as they did then. Sharp satire is wrapped in the velvet glove of a puppet-show-for-grown-ups and delivered with wit and affection rather than accusation. Songs such as “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist” and “It Sucks to Be Me” continue to land well, presenting uncomfortable truths in a disarmingly approachable way. “The Internet is for Porn!” still earns knowing laughter, while “If You Were Gay” remains both funny and unexpectedly touching. The staging and...

“That Italian artist who makes clothes.” Attributed to Coco Chanel, this remark about Elsa Schiaparelli neatly captures the contrast between the two women’s approaches to couture. Chanel is synonymous with elegant simplicity, whereas Schiaparelli’s work immediately brings to mind terms such as “theatrical”, “shocking” and “eccentric”. Born in 1890, she brought a bold, provocative edge to fashion that was utterly distinctive. This remarkably comprehensive exhibition charts her rise from the practical, understated Pour le Sport range, through the chic and functional Pour le Ville, to the gloriously extravagant and dramatic Pour le Soir. It shows how she was shaped by the artistic movements of her time, particularly Dada, and how she in turn influenced them. Highlights include the Jean Cocteau-inspired coat and Salvador Dalí’s lobster dress, alongside Picasso’s painting of Nusch Éluard in a Schiaparelli outfit. The exhibition also explores her work in film and her costume design for actre...

After a year in London, twenty-three-year-old Franky returns to her small hometown in north west England. She intends to stay for the weekend, but her brief visit stretches far longer as secrets from both the present and the past begin to surface. Playwright Kit Withington has created a richly convincing cast of characters and demonstrates a keen ear for crisp, natural dialogue. The exchanges are warm, sharp and frequently very funny, drawing the audience in with ease. If the play has a weakness, it is that it takes rather a long time to arrive at the central secret that has fractured the family. Even then, the revelation feels somewhat telegraphed, and it is not entirely convincing that this long festering wound is only now being confronted. The themes of grief and family pain are handled with sensitivity, but they do seem to tread familiar ground. That said, the performances are uniformly strong. Rowan Robinson is appealing and endearing as Franky, while Olivia Forrest brings lively ...

Georges Seurat’s seascapes offer a quietly mesmerising encounter with one of the most distinctive imaginations in modern art. Immediately recognisable, his pointillist technique remains as striking now as it must have been when it first appeared. Rather than blending colour on the palette, Seurat places tiny touches of pigment on the canvas and allows the viewer’s eye to complete the image. The effect is both precise and atmospheric, creating paintings that feel calm, detached and radiant with light. This exhibition is especially rewarding because it shows Seurat working through his method from sketch to finished canvas. That progression makes clear how carefully he observed the sea, the sky and the shifting conditions of light before translating them into paint. The preparatory drawings and studies reveal an artist patiently refining composition and colour, while the completed works display a controlled harmony that never feels mechanical. The two studies (nos. 19 and 20) for "Th...

In 1879, Henrik Ibsen first staged A Doll's House . The play was a social provocation, and the breakdown of Nora and Torvald’s marriage was widely seen as an attack on patriarchy and a challenge to the roles imposed on women in marriage and society. It shocked audiences and provoked moral outrage across the ideological spectrum. In Anya Reiss’s twenty-first-century adaptation, however, the concerns are markedly different. Both partners are recast as mean-spirited, materialistic narcissists, and the collapse of their marriage stems less from structural injustice than from their own shallow values. It is more likely to leave audiences despairing at the state of the contemporary world that has produced such self-absorbed individuals. The tentative hopefulness present in Ibsen’s original, the sense that society might be reshaped for the better, is entirely absent. Instead Reiss offers a bleak, almost fatalistic vision, and her reworking of Ibsen’s characters and plot carries a tone of ...

He is an astronaut with the European Space Commission, while she works with a documentary film-maker. Both have emerged from deeply dysfunctional childhoods. At one point, we are given a catalogue of the cruelties he has endured since youth. She, meanwhile, has been shaped and manipulated by her father, a horror film director who cast her as a child actress. Given the backgrounds of these two characters, this is not a love story likely to end well, and its dark trajectory is signalled from the outset. We first meet Daniel Defoe on his space mission, his actions framed by a chorus who also comment on the couple’s later interactions. However, because the narrative is structured in this way, and because the conclusion is never in doubt, it becomes difficult to invest fully in the relationship. The process of falling in love also feels only lightly sketched in, as though of secondary importance. Instead, the drama centres on the pair’s fierce and often exhausting arguments. Emily unleashes...

In 1941, the physicist Werner Heisenberg, best known for formulating his uncertainty principle, visited his mentor Niels Bohr in occupied Denmark. The purpose of that meeting remains mysterious and, even with access to the later letters of the two men, their recollections of what took place differ considerably. At the heart of the matter lies the failure of Germany’s efforts to develop a nuclear weapon and Bohr’s role in the Allies’ success in this endeavour. Questions of patriotism and the moral neutrality of scientific inquiry are explored in the context of the individual’s broader ethical responsibility to humankind, set against the temptations of personal ambition. These are complex issues, and coming to terms with them is not made easier by the fact that the scientific territory itself remains opaque to most of us. Michael Frayn’s play attempts to render the physics more accessible, while also reflecting some of its underlying principles. As Frayn observes in the programme notes, ...

In The Print chronicles a turning point in the history of Britain’s labour movement. In 1984, when Brenda Dean became the first woman to head a British union, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was already advancing an agenda to curb the power of organised labour. On becoming general secretary of SOGAT, the Society of Graphical and Allied Trades, Dean found herself navigating not only bitter internal struggles between rival unions, but also the growing influence of Rupert Murdoch, owner of four of Britain’s most powerful newspapers. The play capably traces this complex conflict between management-driven modernisation and a union determined to protect its members’ pay and conditions. However, it too often tells rather than shows. Excessive narration drains the drama of urgency, with scenes feeling less like lived experience and more like illustrative fragments in a historical lecture. Much of this narration falls to Claudia Jolly as Dean, and while she brings intelligence and flashes of ...

Spoilt, rich people whose sole occupation is scheming to destroy the lives of the naïve and gullible. No, this is not a dramatised version of the Epstein files. Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’ eighteenth-century epistolary novel, depicting amoral aristocrats on the brink of the French Revolution, has inspired many incarnations, yet it continues to shock and, at times, to delight. Christopher Hampton’s stage adaptation, first presented in 1985, streamlines the narrative, focusing on the rivalry and tangled emotional connection between the two master manipulators: the Marquise de Merteuil, played by Lesley Manville, and the Vicomte de Valmont, portrayed by Aidan Turner. Together they engage in a vicious game, with Valmont attempting to seduce both the innocent Cécile de Volanges and the devout Madame de Tourvel. It is wickedly entertaining material, and it proves just as intriguing in this context as it does in the well-known teen film, Cruel Intentions . There are, however, some issues with...

When some 18th-century diaries written by the founder of Harford House are discovered, his descendant Fenella calls in two academics, Abi and Marva, to examine them. The manuscripts, which detail Harford’s involvement in the slave trade, soon prove to be far more than a mere catalogue, and the complex history of Britain’s role in the enslavement of Africans acquires a distinctly human face. The subject is a fraught one, with strong, often ahistorical and unnuanced opinions drowning out the complicated reality. Winsome Pinnock has written a fascinating and richly funny play that shows how this heritage touches three women, each in a very different way. Pinnock manages to explore the complexity of her subject with extraordinary humour and humanity. This is theatre at its finest, taking on a difficult subject, humanising it, making it dramatically compelling and avoiding the needlessly didactic. There is much to learn and much to ponder in this play, but it is also deeply entertaining. Sy...