A tale of two tiny friends in a big battle to return to the sea

A solo puppet show written and performed by Joanna Neary, at the Ledward LGBTQ+ centre.

I came for a show – I discovered a happening, for a packed and rapt audience of parents and kids.

The puppet show formed part of a children’s activity morning, organised by University of Brighton events management students, with Brighton and Hove Buses and Tesco sponsoring and supporting the whole event.

It’s a great move – we learn by doing, so giving the students a practical event to create and manage must be the best way for them to learn. Congratulations to the students, and to the University.

In Jo’s puppet show, a lost beach ball leads to a friendship between a little girl and an unhappy crustacean, in this tale of a farty glitter-loving seashore crab who wants to be human.

With a little booth set serving as seashore, bedroom, palace and dungeon, we meet a sea witch with a fiery cauldron, a smarmy prince and foghorn-voiced dad in this fun, pacey and energetic fish-out-of-water comedy, with a full cast of characters and voices.

With songs and humour plus clean Brighton life side-gags for the grown-ups, in the best panto tradition, it’s best to expect the unexpected when you’re working with kids.

Jo leaves the booth, takes puppets for a walk and a chat amongst the audience, playing Treasure or Trash and the Royal Highness name game with the wild card that is child audience participation.

There’s a surprisingly timely swipe at the way the press attacks the royals, touching on themes of privilege, bullying, not fitting in, discovering who you are, who you want to be and there’s no place like home.

Some big thoughts from this little show, giving bags of charm with an edge.

Philippa Hammond

Sussex Playwrights Reviews

Sheep Love to Die by Phil Tong

‘I feel like we’ve been shifted sideways, here but not …’

In a split second, something happened, with repercussions over many years. With shades of Beckett or Pinter, the play looks at why – reasons, or excuses?

Two ladies, sisters, are trapped in burned out armchairs, in stark grey light and ghostly makeup. Something dreadful’s happened – but what? Memories are elusive, sleeting in via sudden bursts of sound.

Heather Alexander [Constance] and Lisa Harmer [Evelynn] as the ladies snip and bicker, poke and react, in Tong’s signature rapid-fire back and forth short sentence dialogue, groping to capture wistful memories of better times before they’re lost for good. There’s cast iron fragility and a lifetime of guilt, here.

The set’s a series of wheeled wooden frames in a black box runway space, completely see through, yet still claustrophic, the women trapped between four shifting insubstantial walls.

Characters push and reconfigure them, thumping them on the ground, stepping through and between them, chopped timelines of past, present and future all merge and swirl.

There’s an assured soundscape and lighting effects, some serious tech in the little space.

Cydney Edwards’s Janey, a young woman just wanting, finally, her break, her step up into a better world, pins all her hopes on dodgy ground. Jordan Southwell’s Steve is an edgy lost boy, seeming one thing, drawn inevitably down into something else.

Nathan Gardner as Daz reveals a victim haunted by family tragedy, expressed in barnstorming rap bravado that will set him on a ruinous path.

And John McCormack’s lyrical gangster Kavanagh is seasoned, mysterious and wise.

Different times and places happen in the same space until they all converge, leading to what must happen, to what has already happened.

Although sometimes it’s a little uncertain what’s happened when and where, John Berry directs an assured cast of well drawn characters each with their own distinctive voice.

Philippa Hammond