Review: Our Public House (Marylebone Theatre)

Review by Phil Meikle

⭐️⭐️

Three years ago, creator/director Josephine Burton approached writer Barney Norris with an idea for a play centred around a Labour candidate holding hustings during an English parliamentary by-election in a town where locals have become disenfranchised by modern politics. They could hardly have dreamed of a better moment to tour their long-planned state-of-the-nation piece, appropriately set in the nation's living room: the local pub. Complete with a working beer pump, the simple but effective set provides the backdrop as the national tour concludes at the Marylebone Theatre. But did Our Public House get my vote, or miss the mark?

The journey of Our Public House from conception to stage is a fascinating one. Developed through Dash Arts' Albion project, it drew on speech-writing workshops involving more than 700 people nationwide, from youth groups to prisons. Their responses to the question, "What can we do today that will make tomorrow better?" formed the basis of the play.

Following a local by-election marked by spoiled ballots and record-low turnout, Labour candidate Mary joins a local ‘speech club’ run by publican Sanjana. Stranded by a storm that prevents rival candidates from arriving, Mary and her adviser Tom find themselves facing an impromptu public forum. The locals seize the opportunity, voicing frustrations on everything from the North–South divide to racism, sexism, disability, and parental rights.

If I were reviewing ambition alone, Burton and Norris would earn five stars without hesitation. Drawing on extensive research, they place the power of speech centre stage, with ambitions for Our Public House to become a rallying cry for those who feel unheard. It is precisely because of this big-hearted ambition that this review is difficult to write. These subjects carry immense emotional and political weight, but there are simply too many of them competing for attention, leaving many feeling underdeveloped.

The biggest failing of this experimental piece is the very thing it is trying to champion: speech. While the characters feel authentic enough, the myriad ideas often feel forced and clunky. There is not so much a debate of important issues as a series of individuals airing grievances, at times sounding more like pub bores.

The biggest misstep for me was the decision to put the real-life speeches to music, arranged by Jonathan Walton. These dream-like interludes, ranging from heavy metal to spoken-word poetry, are intended to amplify the testimonies gathered through the Albion project. Instead, they often undermine them. While the words themselves are powerful, the heightened delivery can feel forced and occasionally drifts into unintentional comedy. By the time another microphone appeared, I found myself dreading the next musical monologue and the accompanying ill-advised cast interpretive dance. More positively, the lighting effects from Ryan Joseph Stafford offered some nice visual accompaniment.

As part of the production's commitment to accessibility, all dialogue was captioned on a chalkboard-style digital screen above the bar. Given the play's focus on communication and its aim to be accessible to Deaf audiences, this was a welcome addition. However, inconsistencies in timing and occasional differences between the captions and spoken lines sometimes proved distracting.

Gabriella Leon, a Deaf actress, plays Mary, using lip-reading and sign language to follow the flow of conversations. This was an inspired creative choice from Burton, emphasising how people can feel marginalised in different ways, while reinforcing the play's themes of communication and understanding. When characters use sign language with Mary, the captions help the audience better appreciate her world whilst also allowing hearing characters to experience some of the isolation she often feels.

Bharti Patel is excellent as pub landlady Sanjana, bringing warmth and authority to the community matriarch. Chaya Gupta impresses as her daughter Anika, while Lauren Moakes gives a moving and often painfully recognisable portrayal of Jo. Fergus O'Donnell and Kit Esuruoso both deliver natural performances as Scott, a right wing, outspoken local, and Tom, Mary’s career focused political adviser, though their characters are underserved by a script that leaves political and personal storylines frustratingly unresolved.

A more successful highlight comes at the start of act two, when members of the local community are invited on stage to deliver their own speeches. Different speakers appear at each performance and, accompanied only by simple guitar backing, their contributions prove far more impactful than the theatricalised musical sequences. Particular plaudits go to Hardeep and Bengy, who at this performance spoke movingly about loneliness and belonging.

Our Public House is a well-intentioned and ambitious piece that tackles important issues with sincerity and heart. Yet its determination to address so many concerns at once leaves many of them underdeveloped, while the musicalized speeches often undermine the power of the words themselves. There is much to admire in its aims, but as a piece of theatre it still feels like a work searching for its most effective voice.

Our Public House completes its nationwide tour at Marylebone Theatre until 4th July.

Tickets from Our Public House Select Your Tickets | Marylebone Theatre

Photos by Pamela Raith