Review: Gwenda's Garage (Southwark Playhouse Borough)

Review by Lily Melhuish ⭐️⭐️⭐️

If you’ve ever wondered what happens when a group of qualified female mechanics take on patriarchy with a wrench in one hand and a protest sign in the other, Gwenda’s Garage might just be your next pit stop. Inspired by real events and revved up with fictional flair, this production is a love letter to feminist resilience, queer activism, and the joy of getting your hands dirty - both metaphorically and literally.

Spanning across five years, the story is set in the 1980s and centres around a garage named after racing legend Gwenda Stewart. It doubles as a hub for activism, most prominently against Section 28, the infamous legislation that tried to silence LGBTQ+ voices. It’s a place where oil-stained overalls meet political protest, and where Bev, our earnest heroine, dreams of building a family through fostering, despite the barriers placed in her way.

The first act hums along nicely, with a delightful mix of cheeky humour and heartfelt moments aided by Nicky Hallett’s delightfully playful script. The ensemble cast is a loveable gaggle of gals, each offering a distinct and unique perspective on what it means to be a lesbian in a hostile political world. Friendship and community are the cornerstone in this feel-good, hopeful production. Jelena Budimir’s direction hones in on these relationships, finding banter amongst the brawls, as the characters poke and tease with loving familiarity. The production reminds us that progress isn’t linear, and sometimes the best way to fight injustice is with a laugh, a song, and a spanner.

Eva Scott as Carole, the matriarch mechanic, delivers sarcastic punchlines with Northern charm. She’s the solid foundation for this well-intentioned but impulsive bunch, and her harsh truths about the importance of compromise help steer her fellow employees in the right direction when they threaten to go off track. Lucy Mackay’s Dipstick is a refreshing portrayal of the lovable idiot, mischievous and impressionable. As the baby of the group, she’s a reminder of the prevalence of chosen family within the LGBTQ+ community.

Sia Kiwa’s Terry is a whirlwind of boldness and chaos, and her portrayal oozes charisma. Her relationship with Bev is passionate yet undefined, a collision of dreams and defiance as the political becomes tangled with the personal. Terry begins to resent Bev’s privilege as a white woman who can hide her sexuality, and her solo ‘Family of One’ explores the added pressures of being a black woman in a predominantly white movement. These emotions are intensified by the oblivious ignorance of her colleagues, highlighting the importance of solidarity within minority communities. Astutely relevant to today’s world, the production raises important questions that still resonate, and successfully delivers a message about the effectiveness of collective action, all with a big smile on its face and great songs to boot.

Bev herself is compelling, played with sincerity by Nancy Brabin-Platt, and her defiant determination anchors the story. Her scenes with Carole are tender highlights, and though the script speeds through time like a rally car, Bev’s emotional journey feels earned. But just as you’re settling into the rhythm, act two hits a pothole. Under increasing political pressure and media scrutiny, Bev decides to leave the garage to avoid risking her newly granted foster children. Without Bev at the centre, the narrative loses traction. Suddenly, Feona, played by Georgina Coram, takes the wheel, and it’s a bumpy ride. A Surrey-born art teacher with a suspicious amount of free time, she loiters around the garage, clearly fascinated by her first exposure to feminism. Eager to get in on the action, Feona’s transformation from trad wife to activist feels more like a plot detour than a destination. Her increasingly dominant presence leaves you wondering if the production forgot who its protagonist was.

The show’s heart beats loudest in its musical numbers, composed by Val Regan. The more anthem-esque songs that feature the whole cast stand out as the strongest, although the quieter ballads offer lovely insight into the characters. ‘I Know A Woman Who Can’ is a catchy tune of empowerment, though its flashlight choreography could use a tune-up. ‘The Bigots Chorus’ is gloriously chaotic, think Spitting Imagemeets feminist cabaret, complete with comically large cardboard wigs and newspaper spankings. It’s the kind of brash, unapologetic fun that critiques with its tongue firmly in cheek.

There’s a ska influence in ‘We Had a Scam’ that’s particularly effective, and moments like this show the potential Gwenda’s Garage holds. A stronger presence of 80s music to support the consistent cultural references would help embed the production more firmly in its time setting and give it a more complete feel.

The set design by Sarah Booth is minimal, with the focus being a skeletal car upstage that is slowly assembled with bodywork throughout the show. It gives the characters something to tinker with, creating the illusion of a functional workspace. The final song, ‘Welcome to Sheffield’, ends on a hopeful note of political change in the face of adversity. That said, the decision to mime a motorbike using a desk chair instead of using the actual car they built? Baffling. A missed opportunity to drive the metaphor home, literally.

Gwenda’s Garage may not be firing on all cylinders just yet, but it’s a spirited celebration of women who dared to challenge the status quo. With a bit of tightening under the bonnet, this production could become a powerful vehicle for change, reminding us of the messy beauty of fighting for something bigger than yourself.

Gwenda's Garage plays at Southwark Playhouse Borough until November 29th

for tickets and information visit https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/gwendas-garage/

Photos by Chris Saunders