Both these plays, lasting an hour each, take quite dark subject matter in very different directions, the first finding humour, social irony and a degree of optimism, and the other digging deeper into difficult and highly disturbing territory with writing of exceptional evocative vividness. They both impress, but in very different ways, and therefore make a good double-bill, something that is often difficult to bring off, when one plays does not fit with the other, or one eclipses the other in quality.
(God Save My) Northern Soul is a solo show written and performed with notable verve by Natasha Cottriall. It is a study of bereavement as Nicole has to come to terms with the death of her mother and voices her interactions with her buttoned-up grandmother, the staff at her mother’s cafe, a stuffy solicitor and friends and (potential) boy friends. The death was sudden, and Cottriall sets up a powerful dynamic between trying to carry on with Nicole’s happy-go-lucky approach to life and grappling with the scale of the tasks suddenly imposed upon her as she inherits house, car and business.
The writing is well observed, wryly amusing and effective at registering the slow burn of shock and grief. The northern vibe of Wigan is well evoked, and the paradoxes of growing up a mixed-race child are noted without becoming the main theme. It is also a very dynamic performance, alive to the need to provide a visual element that continuously engages the audience. There is plenty of dancing, a very realistic night club scene, and an embarrassed set of misunderstood fumblings with a possible partner. The piece is just the right length, and does not in any way overstay its welcome or wear out its material. There is a minimalist set focused on banks of speakers which intermittently voice burst of Northern Soul music to poignant effect reinforcing the mood and emotion of each scene.
Vermin, in contrast, starts from more innocent assumptions – as a married couple, apparently cheerful and content, reminisce on how they met on a stranded train in South London. But things drain away swiftly into gothic horror, as it turns out that Billy derives intense and specific pleasure from torturing animals of various kinds, and that Rachel has had a life-changing experience of giving birth. Through both graphic language and exceptional re-enactment both their tranjectories are made all too vivid for the audience. One is impressed at the skill involved when there is only a set comprising two chairs and a few lighting changes to assist them; and the result is genuinely repellent, as it is undoubtedly intended to be.
Benny Ainsworth, the author, plays Billy, a fine study in the disintegration of personality, full of emerging nervous ticks and sweaty, threatening intensity; and Sally Paffett, likewise, fragments in front of us, as the middle-class veneer falls away to reveal someone as delusional and detached from reality as her husband, albeit in a contrastingly cold and calculating way.
I found myself looking at my watch and wanting it to end. I was relieved to find this was a short one-act drama. But that is more of a compliment than it sounds: the play packs a real punch, and both the writing and the performers deserve great credit for taking us on such an extensive and unexpected imaginative journey, albeit an unwelcome one. This sort of dramatic effect is hugely hard to bring off, and we look forward with anticipation to see where writer and players go next.
(God Save My) Northern Soul
Writer and Performer: Natasha Cottriall
Director: Hannah Tyrrell-Pinder
Vermin
Writer: Benny Ainsworth
Performers: Benny Ainsworth & Sally Paffett
Director: Michael Parker
Until 20 September 2025
Photo Credit: Mark Senior