BEASTS (Persona Collective), at Theatre Works' Explosives Factory

The theatre makers have thrown the veritable kitchen sink at this one.

Narrative, poetry, well-choreographed movements, puppetry, crowd interaction and breaking the fourth wall – it is all there. 

Photos by Mike Ridley

So much work has gone into the look and sound of the piece, and the result is spectacular.

I refer to the set, props, costuming, make-up, sound composition and lighting.

The layout hits you the moment you enter the theatre.

Your eyes are drawn to the inanimate monsters – a visual feast – laid out in full glory in front of you. 

When the actors enter the equation, you can’t help but admire the attention to detail in the deliberately torn and shredded suiting – all different but synergistic.

The four faces stand out for their drawn lines, giving them a grotesque quality.

These are women dressed as men, tackling the manosphere – aggressive, toxic masculinity, male power, misogyny and anti-feminist views. 

Leading the charge, collecting followers, is Alpha, who sprouts bile, dominance and derision.

The acolytes strike a Faustian deal with the devil, represented by three conjoined horned face masks on a black stick.

Mind you, inevitably, he and those that follow him get their comeuppance.

Their time is gone – as it should be. 

All this is well and good, but the problem lies in the fact that BEASTS felt and looked like a collection of ideas simply thrown together.

In other words, it was experimental … a witch’s brew.

I would have much preferred playwright Robert Lewis to have come up with a cohesive plot that told a story one could readily follow.

Take all the disparate elements and weave them into a narrative that immediately resonates.

As it was, BEASTS was long, repetitive (in concept) and, as a result, laboured.

Whatever happened to less is more or the artistic conceit of leave them wanting more? Simply put, it was non-existent.

Still, plaudits to the expressive actors Annaliese Cartwright, Chloe McKeon, Geraldine Cutler and Lily Infantino, who did all that was asked of them. 

Huge credit to production designer Georgia Mason (simply “wow”) and sound designer (some dramatic stuff in here) John Sharp.

Director Callum Bodman was hamstrung by the structure of the work in what is a deranged farce.

You can view the 80 minutes of anarchy at Theatre Works’ Explosives Factory until 16^th May, 2026.