Writer: Phil Porter
Director: Simon Paris
Reviewer: Christine Stanton
“Lacking Bite”
2 / 5
Sophie is devastated after the passing of her father, her world falling apart around her, and feeling invisible in the hustle and bustle of the city. It’s a feeling Jonah knows all too well, his mother’s passing equally as earth shattering. The pair wind up living in the same apartment building, never crossing paths until Sophie randomly mails him a baby monitor to view her at all times, giving her the visibility she craves.
Jonah (Joe Pitts) is intrigued watching the mysterious stranger going about her day, the thrill of being a voyeur blocking his need to even question where the monitor came from, the excitement of taking it off-screen and following her in real life so tempting that it becomes part of his daily routine, unaware that it was Sophie (Abigail Thorn) herself who provided the camera. His consensual stalking puts them in the situations places 24/7 – from close run ins at the local shop, sunset tours on the London Eye, and settling down at night co-watching TV shows together, the closest thing either of them have had to a real relationship since their collective grieving periods.
The premise of Phil Porter’s narrative is brilliantly intriguing, described as “a parasocial rom-com of the digital age” conjuring up various expectations of how the quirky romance would play out on stage. Although there are some enjoyable moments, overall, the execution makes it tough to get into and fully maintain interest throughout the 80 minute runtime. Much of the storyline is presented to the audience in short, individual monologues, narrating each scene from their perspectives. This could be interesting, but the problem is, the monologues are often quite dull, mundane observations of daily life (such as the overlong apple eating scene) as opposed to concrete feelings or incidents of merit.
Pitts and Thorn play their characters (assumed purposefully) quite robotic in nature, many of their lines delivered as though they are AI caricatures, the inflection and intonation within the delivery never feeling completely natural, which further makes it difficult to root for them as characters, and leaves some of the chemistry lacking between them. Equally, their quirkiness never feels fully justified, Sophie posting him a camera is out of the blue and doesn’t align with the small amounts of the character you are introduced to. Jonah’s voyeuristic obsession is initially quite understandable when it’s assumed that he knows she gave him the camera, so when it’s revealed he didn’t, it adds a darker layer, that doesn’t quite match the light, quirky undertone of the overall narrative, though the balance of anti-social vs endearing is navigated relatively well considering. Much of Porter’s conversational language also feels quite old-fashioned and unnaturally poetic, which considering the digital focus, feels conflicting, not fully meshing together as a coherent script and lacking bite. There are some humorous moments, that outline the absurdity of the situation, and it’s these that really do help push the storyline along and reclaim it’s identity.
The best part of the production lies within the visuals. Emily Bestow’s set design is very well utilised, hidden props in hidden drawers and TV screens with Matt Powell’s video design constantly being used as a location signifier. There is an explosive moment midway through that is fantastically shocking, helped by Peter Small’s lighting and Sam Glossop’s sound design, that fully jolts you into the unexpected incident, successfully changing tack and setting up the latter half of the show.
Runs until 22nd March 2026

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