What I’m suppose to think vs What I actually think: Fergus Morgan reviews the world premiere of Ivo van Hove’s Obsession.
Old habits die hard: Fergus Morgan reviews Cressida Carrré’s all-female production of Posh.
Fergus Morgan attends Paul Mason’s attempt to explain the state of the world in 2011-2017, but leaves with as many questions as answers.
Shakespeare done like it was before the Boer War: Fergus Morgan reviews Iqbal Khan’s Antony and Cleopatra.
Meh. Fergus Morgan is unimpressed by the RSC’s new production of Julius Caesar.
Strips the drama down to its essence: Fergus Morgan reviews Imelda Staunton and Conleth Hill in Edward Albee’s portrait of marital dysfunctionality.
A compelling political debate about the heart and soul of the British left: Fergus Morgan reviews the world premiere of Steve Waters’ new play about the Limehouse declaration.
Fergus Morgan finds “frankness and honesty” in Paula Varjack’s show about trying to make a living as an artist.
It’s not enjoyable theatre… but it is important theatre: Fergus Morgan reviews Crew For Calais’ double-bill at Vault festival.
“Olivier, Hall, and Nunn had it easy. Norris has it all to do.” As Rufus Norris comes under attack, Fergus Morgan explores the troublesome business of theatre and nation building.
“Amongst the trauma and suffering lurks an awful lot of humour.” Fergus Morgan reviews the transfer of Stuart Slade’s play about terrorism to the Trafalgar Studios.
And that’s the joke. That’s the only joke: Fergus Morgan is emphatically unimpressed with a revival of Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman’s hollywood satire.
The brash hollowness of hope: Fergus Morgan reviews the London transfer of Buried Child.
It should be gripping. But it’s not: Fergus Morgan reviews I Call My Brothers at the Gate Theatre.
Meanders to a contrived platitude: Fergus Morgan reviews Peter Quilter’s new comedy.