Review: Assata Taught Me (Riverside Studios)

Review by Phil McCullough 

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After making theatrical waves on its debut ten years ago, Assata Taught Me returns for a limited run at Riverside Studios. Exploring identity and race, the American Dream, and the blurred line between “domestic terrorism” and political resistance, the play revisits themes that remain strikingly relevant 60 years on from the birth of the Black Panther Party. But can this revival still ignite the same fire a decade later, or has time dulled its revolutionary edge?

In 1966, the Black Panther Party emerged as a radical Black political organisation that stood in stark contrast to Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophy of peaceful protest. In 1979, Assata Shakur escaped prison and was granted political asylum in Cuba, later becoming the first woman placed on the FBI’s “Most Wanted Terrorists” list. Inspired by her life in exile, the play imagines Assata hiding out in Cuba, where she reluctantly begins tutoring a young Black Cuban man, Fanuco Maceo. When Fanuco discovers his teacher’s true identity, the past begins to close in around them both.

Kalungi Ssebandeke has written a rich, intelligent script that refuses to shy away from difficult conversations around race, identity and belonging. What does it mean to be American? Black? African? Cuban? These questions sit at the heart of the play. One of the production’s most powerful moments comes when Assata pushes the Americanophile Fanuco to proudly declare, “I am an African.” In that moment, identity becomes both political and deeply personal.

Ssebandeke’s writing is layered and thoughtful, examining the idea of freedom fighters versus domestic terrorists in a way that feels both provocative and timely. Yet the play never becomes overly heavy-handed. Humour, warmth and vulnerability are carefully woven throughout, giving the characters emotional depth beyond the politics. As director, Ssebandeke also keeps the production tightly paced, balancing moments of intensity with quieter, reflective scenes. Assata’s monologues punctuate the two-hander effectively, raising difficult questions about liberty and survival. Can someone who answers the door with a gun in hand ever truly feel free?

The sound design is especially effective. Tension-filled drones subtly build unease, while Cuban music and African rhythms pulse through the production, grounding the play culturally and emotionally. However, it is the use of silence that proves most striking. Ssebandeke allows key moments to breathe, particularly during one of Fanuco’s emotional speeches, and the stillness becomes deafening.

Susan Lawson-Reynolds delivers a commanding performance as Assata Shakur — fierce, captivating and emotionally raw. She imbues the revolutionary figure with strength and defiance, but crucially also exposes her vulnerability. Her grief over the loss of a friend is played with heartbreaking depth, allowing the audience to glimpse the emotional cost of a life spent fighting. Opposite her, Ebenezer Gyau is hugely likeable as Fanuco Maceo. His wide-eyed optimism and naïvety provide a sharp contrast to Assata’s guarded cynicism. Gyau handles the humour naturally, but it is during the play’s darker moments that his performance truly deepens, culminating in an emotionally charged final act.

The set design is simple but highly effective. Assata’s flat feels vibrant and lived in, blending Cuban warmth with African influences. The open-plan layout allows the action to flow naturally across the stage, particularly during the production’s more confrontational scenes. Costume choices cleverly reflect the characters’ inner identities too: Assata’s colourful clothing embraces her Africanness, while Fanuco’s cheesy American baseball cap symbolises his longing for a version of America he barely understands. Lighting is also used skilfully, with shadows and muted tones underscoring Assata’s more introspective moments.

Overall, this is a gripping and thought-provoking four-star production driven by a smart, emotionally intelligent script and two compelling performances. Before the show began, Kalungi Ssebandeke delivered an emotive speech about how writing the play helped shape the direction of his own life. The real-life Assata Shakur reportedly died in September 2025, and by the end of the evening, I found myself wondering what she would have made of this play — and whether she would have recognised herself within it. To this reviewer, Assata Taught Me still feels urgent, powerful and necessary theatre.

Assata Taught Me plays at Riverside Studios until 24^th May. Tickets from https://riversidestudios.co.uk/whats-on/mp-assata-taught-me/