Review: Blink (King’s Head Theatre)

Review by Daz Gale

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When George Orwell created the idea of Big Brother in his seminal classic 1984, he imagined a world of constant surveillance. Decades later, we willingly signed up for it. The TV series Big Brother took the idea literally, turning it into entertainment and ushering in a new era of reality television. Add in the explosion of social media, where anyone can share every detail of their day, and the world has become addicted to watching others. This is part of what makes Blink such a compelling watch. Already fascinating for its subject matter when it premiered in 2012, the changes and developments of the past 14 years make this 2026 revival even more resonant, casting fresh light on themes that may once have felt distant but now feel uncomfortably real. But could this production keep all eyes glued to it throughout, or would it leave audiences wondering what else is on?

Blink tells the story of two lonely people who are seemingly bonded by a series of uncanny coincidences. Sophie and Jonah have just lost a parent each and have inherited a lot of money. The last coincidence is that they end up living on top of one another, in two small flats in Leytonstone. Their connection is forged when Jonah receives a baby monitor connected to Sophie’s flat. There, he discovers his new favourite show - Sophie, watching her all day, whether she is doing anything as mundane as eating an apple or watching TV herself. Never coming face to face despite their proximity, Jonah’s interest soon turns to obsession and infatuation, but could this unconventional setup ever lead to a successful love story between the pair, and who really has the upper hand?

There is far more at play in Blink, which I don’t want to give away, as everybody deserves to discover all of its marvels for themself. Phil Porter’s writing effortlessly weaves commentary on society and the increasingly voyeuristic nature of it all, and slims it completely down to an intimate two-hander that focuses on one singular relationship. Comparisons to 1984 come in multiple ways, for that novel also being ahead of its time with its predictions. Given the rise in OnlyFans and people streaming every moment of their day live on social media, Blink hits differently than it would have done during its premiere in 2010.

Blink describes itself as a parasocial love story - in some ways, that is a clever description, in others, it is slightly deceptive. The bond Jonah forms with Sophie, “unbeknownst to her” plays into this obsession with a celebrity or online influencer, almost taking on a meta feeling here, given Abigail Thorn’s (Sophie) own substantial online following. Where Blink flips this narrative is the fact, and this is not a spoiler, that Sophie knows what is happening at all times. Jonah may think he’s being clever by hiding when he is following her, but Sophie is always aware, and this begs the question of who is really in control of the situation.

Porter’s writing proves complex at times, planting the seeds for seemingly inconsequential aspects that pay off in the long run, such as the relatively slow-burning introduction as both Sophie and Jonah reveal sometimes random aspects of their backstory. There is never a question of pacing, though, with the brisk 80 minutes coming and going like no time has passed at all - a testament to both Porter’s writing and Simon Paris’ direction (more on that shortly). Porter fills Blink with witty and frequently funny one-liners, some uncomfortable moments and several twists that many won’t see coming at all. You may think you are watching one kind of show when you settle into Blink, but its series of turns leaves you on the edge of your seat, never knowing what is next and how it is going to end.

This unpredictable nature of the story is perfectly complemented by Simon Paris’ faultless direction, playing to the strengths of the King’s Head Theatre’s intimate space as few other productions have managed. Voyeurism is at the heart of Blink, and Paris knows perfectly well that the audience looking in on this intimate story adds another level to that voyeuristic nature, playing up to this for maximum impact. Another mirror to the story is the consideration that one character apparently doesn’t know they are being watched when they ultimately do, making the decision to have the two actors eyeball members of the front row (myself included) all the more masterful. Paris has carefully considered how to convey every beat of the story so that the shocks land as heavily as the laughs and the emotional core of the story, focusing on the two socially awkward loners longing for a human connection in the most unexpected of places.

Emily Bestow’s set design transforms the space at the King’s Head Theatre to great effect, with clever transitions and a simplicity that allows the imagination to fill in the gaps from the slightly sparse surroundings. A striking use of video design from Matt Powell is kicked up a notch, with the significant presence of screens cleverly replicating the live video of Sophie watched by Jonah at times. Peter Small’s lighting is also used to strong effect, resembling live filming and even a hospital at moments, while Sam Glossop’s sound design creates an atmospheric and occasionally eerie surrounding.

If both the writing and direction wow in Blink, so too do the performances from its astonishing cast of two. Abigail Thorn is utterly compelling as Sophie, delivering a naturalistic and occasionally understated portrayal of the complicated character who seems to encourage the behaviour of Jonah that others may accuse of being “perverted”. There is a lot of nuance in her portrayal, but a calm threadline that forms the basis of her character journey. This is what makes the one moment she breaks this all the more impactful in an impressive and charismatic portrayal.

Joe Pitts is equally sensational as Jonah, beautifully tapping into the awkwardness of the character and firmly embracing the weirdness of it all. There is an intensity in his performance, and though the character’s actions are wholly inappropriate and even cross the line into stalking territory, such is the nature of Pitts’ charming portrayal that you are never completely repulsed by the actions, even rooting for the two to have their happily ever after, no matter how unlikely that may seem. Pitts also marvels as he takes on various characters, including a standout turn early on as another “Sophie”, perfectly landing the comedic moments, while keeping a sense of his quiet and withdrawn nature, and subtle emotion close to the heart of his performance.

Crucially, it is the bond that Thorn and Pitts have on stage together that makes Blink such an electric watch. Though the characters' interactions are few and far between due to the voyeuristic/stalker nature of the relationship, the space the pair share creates a fascinating dynamic, heightening what each of the two characters have in common and how starkly different they are in other respects, also matching that of both actors’ performances in the roles.

A couple of weeks ago, I watched an excerpt from Blink in the rehearsal room. It came from the middle of the play and left me convinced I knew what to expect. I had no idea. Blink thrives at subverting expectations, keeping you on edge and your heart pounding as each situation twists and turns, even when unforeseen obstacles appear. A fascinating exploration of parasocial relationships, this is a love story like no other, delivered in a thrilling production you won’t be able to take your eyes off.

Blink plays at King’s Head Theatre until 22nd March. Save up to 46% on tickets from https://allthatdazzles.londontheatredirect.com/play/blink-tickets

Photos by Charlie Flint