Deliverers by Claudine Toutoungi

The play’s contemporary themes couldn’t be more relevant, pertinent and serious – the changed nature of education and teachers, squeezing success “at all costs” – but I feel Claudine Toutoungi (she’s as beautiful as her name suggests) has come at this at an unnecessarily subtle angle.  That said the idea behind the play is a prescient one and a good one.  A school trip finds itself stranded outside Paris, teachers panic, well some don’t, and then there’s the modern day school management based inquiry into, well, almost every aspect of the trip and the staff on it, with the attendant drawing of illogically and hastily jumped-to predetermined conclusions.  The truth hurts (ironically the school motto is veritas floriat) in Wenling’s video.  In the hands of fools, evidence based education has a lot to answer for or as Val says “To a woman with a hammer, Lee, everything becomes a nail”.

That said this dark comedy draws us in slowly, has some very funny moments and is masterfully executed   I met resistance to the play immediately and had to start the play many times, eventually resorting to putting on headphones and walking along the beach in an effort to stay with the play.  This probably has a lot more to do with me than the play itself which gathers pace in the way smoke fills a room. I’ve listened to the play several times since and it does withstand and deliver on additional listenings.

It may seem an odd thing to say of a radio play which – sound effects aside – has little but dialogue with which to work, but this play is too wordy.  There’s something about the vice principal – (I know I didn’t like her – the jargon, the manipulation, the superiority, the hammer) – that just goes on and on and yet I don’t think her character is written that way.  Ironically her words in the quotation below are few and less preachy and superior than is her character.

Lee:    Everyone needs down time though, don’t they?  What about work life balance?

Eve:    Work is life Lee.

Lee:    Huh, yea, good one.

Eve:    No.  It is.  There have been studies.

Val’s advice to Lee elsewhere in the play is “Learn the art of self-preservation” and so an entire teaching force and generations of children are denied teachers of character, inspiration and talent who kowtow to the amaurotic hammer.

In no small tribute to the director, Liz Webb, the actors are in full command of their characters throughout the play and the dialogue is brisk which could be a factor in the feel that the play is wordy.  The actors’ delivery is natural, fluid and clipped, everything that Americans love about British diction and clarity.  Oh, they’re typical teachers too.

The play is more theme than character driven and I feel it would have had more impact, reached a wider audience and endured had it been the other way round.  Anyway Claudine Toutoungi is building a reputation for writing theme driven plays.  Her first play for radio Slipping (my press review is not available here for copyright reasons) was nominated for Best Original Drama 2014 (Audio Drama Awards) was positively reviewed and is currently still running as a stage play.  The play drew calibre actors, Andrew Scott and Charlotte Riley and told the story of a prosthetic eye specialist and his patient.  (Interesting fact, Toutoungi lost an eye to disease)  She knows her way around a play having been a producer and director for BBC Radio Drama.

In Pieces to Camera by Sean Grundy

Under pressure of being sacked and holed up in a dingy hotel “wannabe” scriptwriter, Stephen Ridges, must come up with a series of evermore inventive plots for a semi-scripted reality TV programme – Jelly House – which he loathes.  Not only does he have the near impossible task of pleasing this shows producers but he also has to please his wife who has set a 12-hour ultimatum on their relationship.

The plot ideas become more and more outlandish, farcical and downright dangerous yet bear a wincing resemblance to some of the events on current reality TV.  Although a comment on current reality TV’s mores the radio play doesn’t take itself too seriously which is a good thing as it’s entertainment value struggles at times to catch and maintain the listener’s attention.

The play does have some fine moments and interesting features and I particularly like the title pun.  (Piece to camera is a media term used to describe when a presenter or a character speaks directly to camera).

Richard Lumsden is brilliant as Stephen Ridges.  As pointed out elsewhere in this blog Lumsden is one of our most underrated actors and indeed writers.  He has written drama for radio and has a fondness fro doing so in verse – with John Dodd Gets Taken for a Ride (which was nominated for the BBC’s Imison award for new writing), A Good Place For Fishing and Man in the Moon. A Book by Lester Tricklebank is reviewed on this blog.  There is a sumptuousness to the effortless ease with which he plays nervy characters – not that this in any way type casts him, particularly if you’ve seen him in a variety of albeit selected roles on TV.

Sean Grundy is an experienced writer and director and this blog has held many of his other plays, particularly The Recordist and The Cavity, in the highest esteem.   In Pieces to Camera is not of the same calibre as those plays but it is a well-written, soundly structured and enjoyable radio play.

Suggs: My Mad-Life Crisis by Owen Lewis

I don’t know if Suggs qualifies to be a national treasure (what are the criteria anyway?).  Of course we remember the whole Diamond Jubilee, Buckingham Palace night, and catchy tunes from our youth, that have amazingly endured and remain with us.  Beyond that and more than thirty years in our lives there is his endearing self-deprecation that makes us feel that Graham McPherson is a personal friend who understands us and has shared many of life’s experiences with us.  Furthermore, beneath what he might deliberately present as a toughish exterior there beats a sensitive, empathic and compassionate heart.  In my book I’m voting for Suggs for national treasure.

Suggs: My Mad-Life Crisis, broadcast on Christmas Eve, is an adaptation for radio by Owen Lewis of the stage play My Life in Words and Music by Graham McPherson and Toby Follet.   It’s well chosen as a play for Christmas Eve as it skims lightly across the happiness and optimism that appeared to be the youth and Madness years of Suggs only occasionally dipping a toe into anything unpleasant or unsavoury.

The play tells two interwoven stories.   The first is the personal search for his father and the second is the struggle to form and be the band Madness.   Although the play is largely a first person narrative it is engaging mostly because of its anecdotal nature and the manner in which Suggs, himself, tells the stories of his life.   The play is redolent with his humour and compassion and perhaps some of his most appealing characteristics which are his determinedly positive and good-humoured outlook on life in the face of struggle and disappointment.  There is no doubt that it is interesting to have the fascinating snippets of insight and gossip that are behind the hits and the personalities of Madness.  Did Mike Barson really wear a balaclava to a photo shoot?  Whether or not he did it’s absorbing story telling done without ego and a great play for radio for Christmas Eve.

I must mention the music.  Not having been a huge fan, aficionados please excuse me, but yes, the music is there and it is fitting and enjoyable.  Of course an afternoon play doesn’t leave a lot of time for the 70s 3-minute single but we get the sense and flavour of a group that enjoyed itself, ran its course, broke up and of course, did the modern day thing and got back together again.

Suggs has a natural talent and vigour that transfers from pop culture to acting.  He leads us on a jaunt through the 70s, via Birmingham & Soho, Paris and other landmarks in a funny, poignant and enjoyable story of his search for his father.  Great fare for Christmas Eve.

Fugue State by Julian Simpson

A pedigree cast, steeped in contemporary TV thrillers, brings a touch of class to Julian Simpson’s gripping and clever exploration of consciousness, Fugue State*.  Something happens to agent Blake Hornsby and Dr Fallon makes it her mission to battle against senior managers and time to snap him out of his concomitant existence and bring him back to perceived reality.

This is another artistic outing to have emerged from the BBC and The Wellcome Trust’s experimental stories workshop which seems to have been a collaboration of outstanding mutual benefit for all concerned.  Although I was not there I am reliably informed that the talks and workshops centred on how the human brain builds a model of the world, which sees as reality.  A certain credit must go to Paul Fletcher who was the scientific adviser to the play.  There is a definite scientific content to the play which is (probably) sufficient to satisfy people who know a lot about this kind of thing but not so intrusive that it puts the lay person off (a relief to me).  Fugue State is a contemporary thriller but to see it as just a thriller is to do it a disservice.  Whilst not a “heavy” or intense play it raises interesting questions about life, consciousness, the future: “Is this [life?] a memory?”  “Am I dreaming?”  “Has this happened before?”.

Hornsby:   You are here now, in a body, wearing clothes.  I met you.
Polly:        Your language is very limiting … your body is limiting … it decays … it dies.  You are constructing a reality.  The image of me that you have, this is your brain making sense of me.  Your brain is constructing a model.  A model of the world based on your understanding.

The play does what great art can do, that is fuse grand ideas and big questions in an entertaining manner, the dregs of which remain with the listener long after the play is over.  We muse, reflect and are shifted in ways that are mostly subtle but nonetheless there is a shift.  That is a purpose of art, regardless of form.  As said before and elsewhere in this blog, radio, through its intimacy and ability to fire the imagination does this particularly effectively.  Also necessary is artistry.  Fugue State provides that amply.  There is the straightforward narrative that we expect from a thriller as we “look on” at the action of the play.  From time to time the writing takes us into the head of the patient and we see the world and his experiences from his perspective.  A straightforward and effective technique on radio and used here to excellent effect.

Not to demean the play’s literary dimensions but I was, at times, reminded of popular television from the 50s and 60s.  It chimed particularly with episodes of The Prisoner and The Avengers but this was positive and enhancing.

As you would expect from a scientific thriller the sound effects are excellent.  The deliberate interference is controlled and a little harsh (I had earphones on) but a necessary and important contribution to the play and its eerie atmosphere.  There is a more or less constant ambient sound – a feature of good radio drama that I have often said is very important but so often overlooked.  There is something portentously doom laden about the intermittent refrain, Rock-a-bye Baby, especially played in that bare, almost childish, simplistic manner.  We all know what happens to baby.  It adds a sinister layer to events.  Credit too must go to Karen Rose of Sweet Talk Productions who had the courage to make the drama a reality and who has produced several radio dramas in collaboration with Julian Simpson.

The play’s atmosphere is unmistakably that of a thriller and the cast ping off each other with the satisfaction of a well-struck drum solo.  The characters are eminently believable and the writing and acting draw us effortlessly and subtly into their motivations.  Whilst not detracting from the other actors (Steven Mackintosh, Tim McInnerny, Ferdinand Kingsley, Phoebe Fox and Ben Crowe), mention must go to the seemingly omnipresent (currently appearing in River BBC) Nicola Walker who excels as Dr Fallon.  She conveys her character’s desperation, drive and determination to pull the patient to full consciousness in a way that is often tangible in its energy and yet, whether it’s TV or radio, Walker does this with seeming easiness.

Julian Simpson, experienced director and writer, perhaps best known for New Tricks, Doctor Who and Spooks, delivers some snappy direction and like a current in a river a sensitivity swirls through the frenetic pace and energy of his play.  There is a strong sense of honesty and integrity in Simpson’s work which is all too often lacking in modern drama and television.  Simpson lays himself bare in his direction and writing.  His website – http://juliansimpson.uk/ – is a masterful example of what I mean.  Much of his work and his inner self are there to be seen (perhaps a little searching required for the inner self).  Listeners who have perhaps missed some of his previous radio work can listen to Kokomo, Bad Memories, Fragments and The Listener on his site.  This is a tremendous facility on his site and I wish more writers and actors would put their work on their websites (legalities allowing) so that it gets brought to a wider audience.

See a photograph of the main players here:

(Julian Simpson, sound engineer David Thomas, broadcast assistant Sarah Tombling, scientific advisor Paul Fletcher and our fantastic cast Nicola Walker, Steven Mackintosh, Tim McInnerny, Ferdinand Kingsley, Phoebe Fox and Ben Crowe)

*Fugue is derived from the Latin for “flight.” Those in fugue temporarily lose their sense of identity.  They may not always be unconscious.  They often become confused about who they are.  They can perceive communication often sound but cannot always communicate themselves.  Fugue is a dissociative disorder that involves disruptions to memory, conscious awareness, identity and perception. When these functions are disrupted, symptoms, which can interfere with a person’s general functioning and relationships can result.  There is no known treatment for being in a fugue state.

The Exuberant by Jeff Young

Exuberant means effusively and uninhibitedly enthusiastic; abounding in joy, vitality and vigour –  in short an exuberant is a nuisance, but a good hearted and well-meaning nuisance.  That describes Jack “Space” Hopper perfectly with the added dimension that an exuberant is also a hunter of meteorites.

Jack and his daunting rival, flaming red-headed beauty, Aurora, are in hot pursuit of a meteorite that fell into Carmel Thomas’s house.  As the pressure to be the first to find the meteorite mounts neither suffers fools gladly.  But as the chase goes on they find the unexpected.  Who will find the rock first and what is it about Mrs Thomas that seems peculiar?

This is a fun adventure across Wales that builds in excitement and intensity.  The style is sharp, fast and witty.  There is a strong sense that the actors enjoyed doing this play as they bounce their lines effortlessly off each other with swift timing and comedic desperation.  The Welsh accent wraps every word individually like a little packet of meaning and emotion.  Direction, by James Robinson, is keen and breathlessly paced to good effect.

This is an enjoyable play, written by the experienced Jeff Young and ably acted out by Welsh talent Adeel Akhtar (Utopia, Four Lions and currently in River (BBC)), Victoria Elliott (Hebburn), Eiry Thomas (Stella) and Ifan Huw Dafydd (Gavin and Stacey).

The Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad – Orson Welles’ Film Script

Let’s be clear that what were dealing with here is the interpretation of a great novel, which has been adapted for the silver screen, which is further processed to be brought to radio.  Worse still, the interpretation is that of an American, albeit a talented American, who wrote the screenplay in 1939 before he’d made a film.  This is not far off taking a spectacular Rubens and interpreting and presenting it as a web infographic.

There is no doubt that “the pictures are better on radio” but I don’t think Heart of Darkness was ever going to be a particularly easy novel for anyone to adapt to the screen or radio.  Necessarily, much more would have to be left out than included, which would be detrimental to the scope, breadth and feel of the work.  Conrad wasn’t a dramatist. He was a writer of novels, wide ranging, mostly lengthy novels, broad in their scope and depth.  Had he been dramatist his art and his art forms would have been very different.

Having said that my gripe with this work is that an American adapting it for screen and then that adaptation being brought to radio does a disservice to a great oeuvre.  It doesn’t work well and a lot is lost and not in the way a sculptor might wish for.  Art is diminished; not created.  However, according to Aristotle the purpose of drama is to facilitate the catharsis of feelings, particularly pity and fear, and in some way to improve the, in this case, listener.  Does this play achieve that?  Well I’d have to admit that it does but, at the risk of repeating myself, not as well as the novel does.  Then again, perhaps it’s one of those cases where it’s a disadvantage to have read and love the novel.

Why must American drama narrate so much?  The role of the narrator in American literature is well known and much more important and intrusive than that in British literature.  But drama should be dramatic and not the blatant telling of a story through the third person.  This is an American obsession.  Their literature seems to be riddled with that very middle American authoritarian, dictatorial, meandering and overly intrusive narrator’s voice verging on patronising the intelligent listener or reader.  It is annoying to those of us who, dare I say it, enjoy superior artistry in their literature whether it is drama, novel, film and regardless of medium – stage, page, screen.  The play’s strengths are in the interactions between characters, particularly Kurtz’s realisation towards the end of the play, one of the more powerful and artistically accomplished passages in literature, capturing frighteningly how little in any dark and dangerous jungle is more dark and dangerous than that place within man.  Particularly gripping is the scene where Marlow is told about the journey ahead.

“… here the jungle is very thick … the captain before you was killed here … the station is in very wild country … it is impossible to live as far of the river as this for very long … that is why you must make every hast to repair you boat … beyond is unexplored … there are cannibals.  Kurtz is somewhere here.”

“Are you trying to frighten me?”

“Are you frightened?”

“No.”

“I believe you.”

But where Marlow describes the river or the jungle, without intrusion, James McEvoy’s delivery is superb and is far reaching in its efforts to bring the descriptive strengths of the novel to audio drama.  Surely if McEvoy did more of the calibre of his recent Macbeth and this work he would enjoy a reputation similar to Brannagh? Throughout and across the entire play the acting is consistent and superb – close, passionate and tense – and brings Welles’ script luminously off the page.  Jamie Lloyd’s directions keeps the play tight, the tension pinpoint and the listener on the edge of their seat and fully immersed in the action and the jungle.

The drama in the play is enhanced by a stunning soundscape.  The music evokes the jungle, the river and the rising tensions and the pressures of exploration and credit must go to Ben and Max Ringham.  Sound Design is by Wilfredo Acosta and, whether it is the steamer on the Congo and the ropes’ tensions or snakes, the sounds stimulate the imagination without being overly intrusive and add much to the dialogue.  Oscar calls for all involved.

With (minor) reservations I concur with McEvoy’s summation of The Heart of Darkness as given to The Radio Times –  “I’d say if you’re a fan of radio drama, you’re gonna get a treat. I think the quality of it is up there, and I think it’s a real journey in tension and terror.”

Readers may be interested to know the following:

• Orson Welles wrote a screenplay for Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness in 1939 – it was meant to be his first film, which, as a result of the rejection of Heart of Darkness, became Citizen Kane.
• Hollywood thought the screenplay too radical in its language, lust for power and also that it would be too expensive to make.
• The screenplay has been performed once before by Fiona Banner and was live streamed – I missed it!  It starred Brian Cox.
• Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness was the basis of Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now
• Orson Welles adapted the novel as a radio play in 1938 and you can hear it here – http://www.mercurytheatre.info
• Joseph Conrad was Polish and only spoke English fluently in his latter twenties yet is considered one of the greatest novelists to write in the English language.

The Recordist by Sean Grundy

Something of a star cast features in this atmospheric quirky comedy of obsession and compulsion in which Stuart, played by John Gordon Sinclair, a freelance surveillance expert, decides to bug his family (“You have to admit it was an excellent teaching aid.” Ren) so he can increase his popularity by offering his students authentic recording projects.  Will Stuart intervene or must the show go on?  Whichever it is he goes to extreme lengths to extract himself from ever increasingly bizarre situations.

Why doesn’t John Gordon Sinclair do more radio? Although far from his only gifted quality his voice is instantly recognisable, sonorous and melliferous.

Sinclair plays the rather dim-witted teacher of espionage who discovers that his wife, Ren is having an affair with Neill, a colleague.  There ensues a series of dramatically ironic situations in which Penny plays an increasingly important role.  One of the strengths of this play is the variety of voices and accents.  The Scottish (provided by Sinclair), Irish (Sharon Horgan) and English (in particular Gemma Jones) weave together to form a snug quilt of rich warmth and delight.  Each actor brings particular strengths to this light comedy and together form a whole that is fresh and enjoyable.

Penny’s new music student is learning, perhaps ironically, the songs of James Bond – the world’s most famous spy – and this provides an occasional welcome and appealing musical motif to the play.

It goes without saying that a play about a sound recordist is itself well recorded, full of effective realistic sounds and contains enough specific detail on microphones and other equipment to keep enthusiasts happy whist not killing the pleasure of the uninitiated.  Regular readers will be aware that this reviewer always falls for plays that feature helicopters.

Sean Grundy also wrote the enjoyable and quirky CAVITY, FAR SIDE OF THE MOORE (reviewed elsewhere on this blog) and IN THE FAMILY both of which have been broadcast on Radio 4.  The play is skilfully brought together by Alison Crawford who produced and directed The Recordist.

The Liberty Cap by Hattie Naylor

If you realised that Liberty Cap is the American name for Magic Mushrooms and you tuned in hoping for a 1967, Summer of Love, psychedelic, magic mushroom induced romp then you will have been disappointed as this claustrophobic play is held together by tension worthy of a twelve hour wait for a struck-off dentist.  That’s not to say it’s not a good play.  It is a sharp and poignant play that explores, perhaps obscure, in the sense of not being mainstream, issues.  It is disquieting, yes, but the close atmosphere conveys well the subject matter – depression and modern-day experimentation with psychedelic drugs.  It is a tense listen whether it’s the dialogue or the monologue – there are only three characters.

The play is well-written.  Searching in its exploration of the themes.  The characters are well-defined.  The character of Pete (played by Nigel Barratt (no relation to Sid – see below)) the subject of the Psilocybin (the psychoactive chemical found in magic mushrooms) trials is tightly written.  The terse tension of a depressive is captured in his short sentences, the paranoid questions and his manic fearful desperation when undergoing treatment.  Pete develops something of an obsession with people made of sound and colours which is close to the knuckle.  The atmosphere of the play is leaden but grips the listener as our empathy seeps further and further into Pete’s mind.

The excellent sound design, especially if you listen through headphones, is by Alisdair McGregor who I suspect has listened to the odd Pink Floyd album in his day.  Production values are good.  You can hear the desperate breathlessness in Pete which contrasts well with the super smooth doctor played by Paul Currier.

Hattie Naylor is an experienced (award-winning) writer of various genres and clearly has a liking for audio work, having written or contributed to, IVAN AND THE DOGS, GOING DARK, BLUEBEARD, THE DIARIES OF SAMUEL PEPYS (nominated Best Radio Drama 2012), THE AENEID (nominated in the BBC Audio Awards for Best Radio Adaptation 2013). Her opera work includes ODYSSEUS UNWOUND with composer Julian Grant, PICCARD IN SPACE with composer Will Gregory and WEIGHTING.

Hattie Naylor is writing drama, fiction and musicals that explore important contemporary issues and have a wider appeal that may be initially expected.

Overall this play is not a relaxing or easy forty five minutes of entertainment but rewards the loyal listener with an exploration of issues pertinent to ta world that she may not inhabit.

Minds Eye Radio Exclusive Interview with Noni Stapleton

In an exclusive interview for MindsEyeRadio Noni Stapleton talks to Paul Hazzard about her play Charloais, acting and her future projects.

Charolais is going to the Edinburgh Festival (2015) – catch it there if you can.

Click on the photos or text below to listen.

 Noni on performing in Charolais

Noni talks about the singing cow 

Noni Gives us Insights into Siobhan

The Role of the Audience in Performance 

On Preparing and Performing

Adapting Plays and Performances for Stage and Radio

On Being an Actress

Acting for Stage, Radio and TV

Talking Theatre

Noni on Writing

Charolais Goes on Tour

Photos by Sally Ann Kelly & IS.com and Music by Bensound.com

A Steal by Mike Bartlett

The opening of A Steal by Mike Bartlett made me groan.  Out loud.  Seriously.  “Not seventy five minutes of “the English language put through a cheese grater” by some gossipy, opinionated and annoying shop assistant who rants on at a rate of knots”.  Arghaaa!  But sticking with this slow burning play brings the listener surprising rewards both in terms of drama and the themes it addresses.

“Normal” twenty seven year old Hanna is Liverpudlian both in accent and attitude – she works hard and enjoys her nights out with her flatmate, Susie, a nurse.  She’s feisty, talkative (“do you mind me talking cause I do go on?”) and righteous. Intelligent but not educated she loves a cause.  She sees unfairness in “the system” particularly the economy.  Her chief executive, “a dick … who doesn’t care” in her view, gets paid over sixty times more than she does.  So Hanna, something of a modern day Robin Hood, sets about putting the world to rights – well at least as she thinks it ought to be.  Hanna steals £155,000.40 but is it really the money that’s important or is she motivated by something else?

There’s no doubt that A Steal is humorous and at times laugh-out-loud funny – rather in the tradition of Liverpudlian theatre of the 60s, 70s and 80s. Close listening offers some pin sharp observations on contemporary issues – finance, life, fairness.  Whilst talking to her boss (chief executive of a clothes shop) Hanna observes “I like your suit too.  You didn’t buy it here did ya?”  Whist fondly praising her socially aware, compassionate, helpful mother Hanna blurts out “She had a face like a wall but she was full of heart”.  Humorously and subtly the play presents the painful end of a financial crisis that affects the poor more than the perpetrators.  More bluntly the play highlights an in-the-know system that is impenetrable and punitive to those like Hanna who take it on and don’t play but its rules.

As a structured piece of art the play is a tardy in getting to its nitty-gritty but as it slowly turns a corner, just over half way though, it changes in tone, and offers the listener more passion, grit and insight and becomes much brighter and more appealing. Although perhaps then becoming a little preachy we nonetheless identify more with Hanna, her motives and, whilst we cannot agree with her actions, and know she’s doomed to failure, we sympathise with her, shake our heads and tut.

A Steal is written with passion.  It’s gritty, sensitive and humorous.  Mike Bartlett is a skilled artist and clearly passionate about audio drama.  In a subtle and entertaining way he has nailed consequences of the financial crisis to the radio airwaves.  The play deserves an audience.  On first listening the play is well suited to the Woman’s Hour instalments but aside from the slow start it works well as a single sitting listen.

Laura Dos Santos is brilliantly cast as the fast talking righteous Hanna.  Interestingly that accent becomes much less grating as the play goes on.  Her acting is ably supported by convincing performances from, Samantha Robinson, Justin Salinger and Shaun Mason.  Mary Peate’s confident direction gives A Steal a strong and poignant balance of humour and gravitas.

A Steal is available on iPlayer both in instalments and as an omnibus edition.

Mike Bartlett is a prolific writer having written for stage, screen and print.  Much of his work has been nominated for awards with most notably Love Love Love at the Royal Court (TMA Best Play 2011); Love Contract (2008), Liam (2009) and The Core (2011) all for radio; My Child (2007) and Cock (2009). In 2007 Not Talking won the Imison and Tinniswood Awards for best newcomer and best radio play.

Incidentally fans of radio drama should read Mike Bartlett’s excellent article Shouting Quietly here.