While facing grief, illness and a very public breakup, the comic reached for his diaries – and found a happy kid who spiralled into despair. Inspired by a Nobel laureate, he wrote a frank, funny book about that boy and what he grew into

It begins on Christmas Day, 1996: “It’s been a lovely day … I realised how much I love my family.” It ends three years later: “I’m lying on the floor in floods of tears and all I want to do is die.” Say what you like about adolescence but it is nothing if not an emotional tumult. “If I’d known as a teenager,” says the comedian Jon Richardson ruefully, “that I’d one day write a book about them, I couldn’t have bookended my teenage diaries with better quotes to show what a storm of shit those years can be.”

The book is The Teenage Diaries of a Stand-Up Comedian, and it has been two years in the making. Two years that, if not quite the hormonal rollercoaster the book itself records, have been quite the ride. The project is borne of a crossroads moment in the Lancashire man’s midlife, after he experienced bereavement, serious illness among family and friends, and the breakdown of his marriage to fellow comic Lucy Beaumont. The last was an inevitably very public ending, splayed across the tabloids, to a relationship which itself played out in public, courtesy of the couple’s acclaimed mockumentary about their domestic arrangements, Meet the Richardsons.

St John the Divine church, London
The poet’s 1935 verse drama has its eccentricities but the meticulous star plays Thomas Becket with a Shakespearean relish

A striking example of site-specific theatre, TS Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral was first performed in 1935 at Canterbury Cathedral. This was the location, in 1170, for its pivotal event: the killing by Henry II’s knights of Archbishop Thomas Becket during a dispute over the powers of church and state.

Subsequently, audiences have been more likely to enter a production via a church nave than a theatre aisle. The latest host venue is St John the Divine, opposite the Orange Tree theatre, whose boss, Tom Littler, co-directs with Francesca Ellis.

A few months ago, he was pulling pints. How did he end up writing for Sharon Horgan, acting with Jeff Goldblum and storming the West End?

Until a few weeks ago, Freddie Meredith’s IMDb page was full of names like “Seb” and “George” and “Philip Noonan”. Lately, however, it’s started saying things like “Olly Murs” and “Liam Gallagher”. The characters that aren’t listed are even weirder: perhaps you’ve come across his recent turn as an east London mosquito? Or Jeff Goldblum’s troubled nephew? How about the tech billionaire tasked with introducing King Charles to a new AI assistant who looks exactly like Diana, Princess of Wales?

It’s not just Meredith’s online CV that has had a radical overhaul. At the start of this summer, the 33-year-old was working in a bar, where he would sometimes get recognised by fans of Bafta-winning BBC sitcom Such Brave Girls, in which he played the protagonist’s ludicrously tenacious boyfriend. He mimics punters’ confusion at seeing a guy off the TV serving them: “What’s happened to you?!”

Sohmen Concert Hall, Schwarzman Centre, Oxford
Six performers navigate a disjointed world of online slang, loneliness and absurdity in the UK premiere of Jennifer Walshe and Philip Venables’ thrillingly original collaboration

As we found our seats, a druidic figure wearing a string of vapes as a necklace sat on stage swathed in white fabric and smoke, emitting close-miked mouth noises amid a rising chorus of percussive hisses and rattles. Then dancing flashlights, reverb and thunderous drum rolls. Later came monologues delivered with quiet, skin-crawling sincerity or pounded out as a kind of manic rap and comically dysfunctional text chats projected on the backcloth. Not to mention the dance breaks. There was an angular, hyper-controlled trio fluent in the language of modern ballet and a hands-on-hips traditional number as faux-folk lyrics scrolled in gothic script and a hefty synthetic beat throbbed below.

The first collaboration between Jennifer Walshe and Philip Venables – two of the most distinctive creators in music theatre today – The Alonetimes was never likely to adhere to the conventional playbook of opera. The programme for its UK premiere describes the work as “a fragmented archaeology of personal stories”. Alternatively: there is no single linear plot but instead six performers, who step constantly in and out of unnamed roles, switch between playing instruments and singing, form a taut Greek chorus and stand alone in the spotlights.

Subject to Change: A Dance for David Bowie will explore how the musician ‘practised a form of artistic reincarnation’, says choreographer Marcos Morau

‘Let’s dance,” sang David Bowie in 1983, commanding: “Put on your red shoes and dance the blues.” That call is to be answered – with footwear TBC – by an international dance production featuring new choral arrangements of songs from throughout his career.

Subject to Change: A Dance for David Bowie will be staged at Sadler’s Wells in London in autumn 2028 after a world premiere in Luxembourg. It will visit Tokyo in 2029. The show will explore how Bowie “practised a form of artistic reincarnation” according to Spanish choreographer Marcos Morau who is taking inspiration from the superstar’s transformations into personas such as Aladdin Sane and the Thin White Duke.

Selina Cartmell announces season including Stockport-set version of Phaedra myth by Simon Stephens

A theatre boss has promised to channel the “pioneering spirit of Manchester” and be “brave and fearless” as she unveiled a new season of work, two years after a deeply damaging censorship row.

Selina Cartmell, the artistic director of the Royal Exchange in Manchester, revealed details of 2027-28 productions that include a retelling of the Munich air disaster and a modern Stockport-set version of the ancient Greek myth Phaedra.

Every sun-dappled object is an instrument as composer Dom Coyote and sound designers Elena Peña and Dave Price conjure trip-hop-inspired rhythms in the Mendips for a new stage adaptation

The woodland is stuck to our skin. Sound designers Elena Peña and Dave Price are hunched next to me, burying a microphone into mossy ground. Composer Dom Coyote is listening on headphones, crunching out a rhythm with his boot before shucking his shoes for a subtler sound. “It’s got to be socks off, Dom,” says Price. Coyote obliges, the balls of his feet soon covered in dead conifer needles. “Do you wish you’d had a pedicure now?” Peña asks.

It’s a short drive from Bristol to this patch on the Mendip Hills, where pine cones and rowan berries scatter at the entrance to the trees. We’re on the hunt for sounds to orchestrate a staging of Max Porter’s novel Lanny. The adaptation by Somerset-based Bea Roberts moves the spectral story of a lost boy and a mulch-guzzling creature from commuting-distance-to-London to commuting-distance-to-Bristol, with director Nancy Medina wanting the show’s sound to exist within the city’s historical music scene. “A kind of trip-hop world,” says Coyote, who is exploring this idea by replacing electronic beats with those of the natural world. “So we need to go and play the forest.” Every sun-dappled object becomes an instrument. Up on his feet, Price tests out a rhythm on a deep-timbred trunk. He points to the tree. “Any notes for the snare drum department?”

As a Traitors obsessive, Gamble is in his element hosting its hugely popular companion show, Uncloaked. He discusses keeping the show’s secrets, edgelord comics and how he became known as a ‘mega wife guy’

Ed Gamble does not like seeing himself on screen. “I know a lot of comics who struggle with watching themselves,” he says. “No one should be having to look at their own face so much. It feels simultaneously arrogant and also the most self-flagellating thing you can do.”

Unfortunately for him, he is inescapable. Gamble presents the BBC’s wildly successful companion show to the Traitors, The Traitors: Uncloaked, along with the hugely popular podcast Off Menu, with the comedian and current Celebrity Traitors contestant James Acaster.

Hammersmith Apollo, London
In his tour Here If You Need Me, the comic makes laugh-out-loud look easy with jokes about conjugal argy-bargy, smutty downloads – and a bit of politics

Is there a better no-frills standup at work today than Kevin Bridges? You’d struggle to find a more unfussily funny demonstration of the art form’s traditional virtues than at the Glaswegian’s new touring set. It’s a consistently laugh-out-loud suite of observational material on subjects comics have addressed since time immemorial: nostalgia, marital dispute, the latest cultural trends – alongside, as Ben Elton used to have it, a little bit of politics, too. Bridges really does have the X factor, and – without him ever seeming to stretch himself – Here If You Need Me is a steamroller 75 minutes of standup.

For me, it needed to be, after being hit by a £10 – 10 pounds! – cloakroom charge because my innocuous wee bag (a notebook, a novel, a pair of glasses) was apparently too incendiary to be allowed into the venue. Oh that Bridges would turn his satirical eye on that racket. But the show starts with more obvious targets: Donald Trump, whose “negotiating” techniques our host burlesques in a violent dialogue with his electrician; and Benjamin Netanyahu, pausing before another act of destruction to check out Bridges’ Instagram feed.

Hudson Theatre, New York
Allison Janney and Joe Keery co-star in a powerful drama about a family reunion turned political minefield

Just in time for the holidays, Jon Robin Baitz’s family reunion drama, Other Desert Cities, is back with an even starrier cast than its 2011 premiere. The revival is a headline-grabber for marking the stage debuts of Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Joe Keery, alongside the Broadway returns of Ed Harris, Allison Janney and Lily Rabe.

But if this raises eyebrows as a takeover of Hollywood vanity, those concerns are easily quelled by the performances – especially those of the newcomers. John Benjamin Hickey’s staging is well attuned to its cast’s abilities, more than justifying its speedy return to Broadway. This Pulitzer finalist play still has a lot to say.

From Thatcherism to global crisis to an ever-online world, she has chronicled our race to the abyss. Now she’s written a play about a blond-wigged voicepiece for an un-named, strongman ruler. Who can she mean?

Triumph, which has just opened at London’s Almeida theatre, is Caryl Churchill’s latest piece of explosive minimalism. Running at just 20 minutes, it skewers contemporary barbarism without mentioning the names of Trump, Putin or any of the other supposedly strong national leaders. It works through historical analogy and is a reminder that Churchill – while “always ahead of the game” in the words of the play’s director, James Macdonald – has in recent years developed a form of elliptical drama for which the apt word might be compressionism.

At the heart of Churchill’s new play is an edgy romance between a male journalist and a female press officer who dons a blond wig for her screen appearances and who is a vigorous apologist for a cruel, vindictive, narcissistic emperor.

Barbican, London
Omar Rajeh performs out of frustration, resistance and a need to connect in this stream-of-consciousness solo at Dance Umbrella festival

In August 2019, Omar Rajeh sat in his bedroom, listening to the sound of pounding percussion with his world in crisis. In the midst of political instability, Citerne Beirut, a theatre and cultural centre Rajeh had founded in his native Lebanon, was forced to close, dismantled by order of the local government, who planned to build an incinerator on the site.

Rajeh tells us that as a teenager, coming of age at the end of the Lebanese civil war, dance had always seemed like the most revolutionary thing he could do. Now here he is, more than three decades later, still dancing – out of frustration, defiance, resistance and a desire to connect. As the percussive score gains momentum, Rajeh’s busy body builds up a sweat. In this danced stream of consciousness, Rajeh is not always an especially elegant mover, but he dances like it’s a necessary thing to do.

Linbury theatre, London
Six fearless singers and the Chroma Ensemble, conducted with arresting immediacy by Naomi Woo, rise to the challenge of the brutal musical onslaughts and anarchic orchestrations of Philip Venables’ raw, imaginative score

Sarah Kane revolutionised British theatre with five provocative plays written between 1995 and 1999. Her final work, 4.48 Psychosis, was her most personal, confronting the clinical depression she struggled with for years. The play was first performed posthumously in 2000, after she died by suicide in 1999.

The Royal Opera and Guildhall School of Music and Drama commissioned Philip Venables to adapt the play as an opera, which debuted in 2016. The composer, also known for a certain “in-yer-face” approach, set Kane’s original text almost entirely, realising its 24 disjointed sections in a raw, imaginative score teeming with minimalist licks, prickly synth-pop and consoling nods to the baroque. The libretto shifts between poetic abstraction and scathing exchanges between a patient and a psychologist. An ensemble of six female singers navigates themes of depression, isolation and the agonising choices surrounding medication.

Exclusive: Play anonymously published in 1596 was collaboration between Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe, according to computer analysis

Dramatic new evidence concludes that the play Edward III should be added to William Shakespeare’s canon, and also that it was a major collaboration with his contemporary rival Christopher Marlowe.

The history was published anonymously in 1596, and it has long been thought that Shakespeare wrote at least a few scenes. However, Dr Rory Loughnane, a leading scholar and co-author of the research, told the Guardian that computerised textual analysis pushed the case “beyond any reasonable doubt” that the Stratford-born playwright was the principal writer.

Amid financial pressures on household and school budgets, the theatre company is expanding access with free plays

Six young actors step into the spotlight as a reverent silence descends on the hall at City Academy in Bristol. A boy steps forward to pose a central question: “What does it mean to be young in Britain in 2026?”

Union jack flags flash across the backdrop as three girls excitedly debate a Spice Girls reunion concert, before the focus swings back to the young boy wrestling with modern British identity. He rattles off a list of familiar cultural touchstones – fish and chips, cups of tea, Butlin’s, David Attenborough, Gogglebox and the England football team, naming heroes such as Jordan Pickford and Jude Bellingham.

Hackney Empire, London
Jessica Cale’s soprano is diamond-bright in Elena Langer and Glyn Maxwell’s captivating monologue, while Rebecca Meltzer creates a compelling schoolyard staging of Purcell

English Touring Opera’s autumn season has a mythological theme – which, in practice, means operas about women getting left behind. Touring alongside Gluck’s Orpheus and Eurydice is this compact double bill, pairing Dido and Aeneas with Elena Langer’s Ariadne, a 20-minute scene for soprano setting words by Glyn Maxwell, which was premiered by Almeida Opera in 2002.

Langer’s mini-opera is essentially a monologue, sung persuasively here by Jessica Cale, her powerful soprano diamond-bright. Anna Morrissey’s production, though, has six people on stage: abandonment feels like something active as well as passive. It begins with Theseus leaving, disentangling himself from both the sleeping Ariadne and the red thread that links them, spooling from a heap on the floor – it’s as if he got back from the labyrinth the night before. When Ariadne wakes he’s still there, pacing in the shadows or turning her bed on its rotating platform.

Crucible, Sheffield
The yellow stockings are as funny as ever – yet a haunting, folky live score casts a dream-like uncertainty over Shakespeare’s tangled romance

You can picture Mathew Horne’s Malvolio as a guest on an early 1970s BBC Two arts show. With his buttoned-up collar, tight black suit and supercilious delivery, he oozes self-satisfaction. Trusting in his superior taste, he has the pose to prove it: stiff, studied and haughty.

His fall from grace, tricked into dressing up as a yellow-stockinged morris dancer, is as funny as it ever is in Shakespeare’s comedy. It is the comeuppance of the arriviste. Brought down to size, he is no less indignant for it. In a smart, unyielding performance, he goes from pompous to bruised – and ever unrepentant.

A new Washington DC exhibition examines how Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou and more used the Bard’s work to help tell their own stories

“William Shakespeare was a black woman.” In 1985, Maya Angelou spoke these words as part of a keynote speech at a convention in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

There, she spoke of the role poetry played in her transition from muteness as a child and how she fantasized herself triumphantly delivering Portia’s speech from William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice in front of her entire community at church. Though she never got the chance to perform that rendition, Angelou acknowledged her desire to deliver that rendition as part of a lifelong kinship with Shakespeare, a connection she continued to seek out throughout her life whenever she needed heartening or solace. In her eyes, Shakespeare wrote his emotionally desolate Sonnet 29 “for” her; how else could he have so aptly described the harsh realities of the Black feminine condition?

A new play revisits the story of Ireland’s 18th-century German refugees, whose experience of prejudice and exclusion resonates with today’s debates over immigration

In the early 18th century, a few thousand Germans fled religious persecution and near starvation in their homeland and ended up in remote rural Irish villages. The Irish Palatines, as they were known, were poor, conservative homesteaders who couldn’t speak the language and were the object of suspicion and violence – precursors to the displaced Syrians or Afghans of the past decade.

Their story is told in Refuge, a co-production between Staatstheater Mainz and the Irish company Fishamble. Part love story, part social commentary, it is performed by a mixed cast, mainly in English but with some German interludes.

York Theatre Royal
Atwood’s adaptation of her own novella is revived with Amelia Bullmore as a wry Penelope but it’s the eight-strong chorus who pull the story’s threads

After a summer of Odysseus hogging the spotlight thanks to Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster take on Homer, it’s time for the women to have their say. The Penelopiad is, as its title declares, the story of Odysseus’s famously faithful wife. But in Margaret Atwood’s play, adapted for the stage from her own novella, it is also Penelope’s brutally slain maids whose perspective is reclaimed. If Penelope’s voice has been sidelined, theirs have been silenced altogether.

The backdrop for this revisionist storytelling is hades. In Sara Perks’s minimal design, it’s a sterile, featureless place, deliberately drained of the passion and mess of life. Thick, blood-red ropes suggest the strands – literal and narrative – woven by Penelope and the cords used to hang the maids. These wronged figures form a chorus, acting out episodes from Penelope’s life as well as interrupting with their own bitter take on events. We hear of Penelope and Odysseus’s marriage, his departure to Troy, and the long, long years that followed.

A social media star comes a cropper in timely horror, and the Spice Girls ledge takes her disco- and indie-tinged bops out on a short tour

The Influencer Project
Out now
When your career involves constantly posting footage of everything you do to social media, it makes things a cakewalk for stalkers. And lo, the influencer-in-peril horror subgenre was born. British social media star Chiara King plays herself in this chilling iteration, set in Copenhagen.

It’s a quarter of a century since the company celebrating black and Asian ballet dancers was founded. With an autumn tour in full swing, step back in time through their striking shows

Dorfman theatre, London
The far-fetched plot turns and some underdeveloped characters undermine the powerful messages about prejudice in Helen Edmundson’s play

Opposing forces tug against each other in this new drama as Anne-Marie Duff is magnificent amid playwright Helen Edmundson’s implausible plotting. The result is a failed suspension of disbelief yet a convincing central performance.

Duff plays Julie, a mother, ex-wife and working woman whose already over-burdened life is turned upside down by an incident at a tube station when an 11-year-old boy randomly and aggressively insults her. She challenges him, reasonably, and in a series of unconvincing plot turns, winds up facing a legal battle and potential prison sentence.

Venues across Birmingham
As Britain’s longest-running live art festival returns, get ready for late-night artist dinners, a show in a swimming pool and Faye Driscoll’s incredible rotating disintegration

The phrase “two things can be true” is a frequent refrain in popular psychology and it’s also a frequent response, I find, to witnessing the farther reaches of live art. Hmm, is this performance confusingly self-indulgent or utterly profound? Sometimes it can be both. In fact, it’s not just two things that can be true, it’s as many things as there are people in the audience, since this is all about the live subjective experience, in the moment; presence and connection.

Launched in 1998, Fierce is Britain’s longest-running live art festival. For one week it takes over Birmingham’s conventional theatres alongside unconventional spaces, especially in ex-industrial Digbeth, which is fast becoming a creative hub. Also on the bill this year: late-night artist dinners, a show in a swimming pool, and a six-hour performance jam at a grand gothic hall that was apparently the inspiration for Cluedo.

Sherman theatre, Cardiff
Hannah McPake’s high-wire drama pokes fun at tech bro machismo, reality TV and Musk-style Martian escapes – think A Christmas Carol in space

This show takes local history as its starting point, that of a 19th-century balloonist’s assistant who performed a parachute stunt in the skies above Cardiff. It throws in a current-day tech billionaire, the space race, a time-travelling hot-air balloon, and – for good measure? – a lifesize seagull that speaks.

Surprisingly, given the complications of writer-director Hannah McPake’s high-wire drama, it lifts off, swirling through the clouds on its air-bound set, crackling with humour and effervescent imagination along with a keen sense of unwritten history, to become a complete blast.

Exclusive: London theatre’s new artistic director working with David Tennant and Caryl Churchill as he wrestles with Britain’s decline – and with smart glasses

A spate of highly political plays will feature in one of north London’s most storied theatres next season, as its new artistic director says the world “is falling apart”.

An exploration of Britain’s decline featuring David Tennant and a searing series of new plays by Caryl Churchill are planned for Dominic Cooke’s first season at the Almeida theatre.

What is it about music that makes even non-professionals want to hit the dancefloor, and is it disco, funk or even classical that does it best? Four leading choreographers discuss their theories, with the science to back them up

‘I don’t know what it is about house music that makes me move, but I just can’t help it,” says Faye Stoeser. “And I don’t care what I look like. I just go for it.” “If a Missy [Elliott] track comes on, that’s me, I’m in the zone,” says Dannielle “Rhimes” Lecointe. “With hip-hop it’s something deep within the gut that makes you want to move. It has so many rhythms to it – a heartbeat, a pulse, a ricochet – that you feel in so many different places of your body.”

What is the best music to dance to? Is it house music, it is hip-hop, is it disco or funk? Stoeser and Lecointe should have some insight since, as performers and choreographers, dancing is what they do for a living. When it comes to popular floorfillers, the DJ Intelligence platform found the most-requested track from UK DJs last year was Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody (with Abba’s Dancing Queen second, and Mr Brightside by the Killers third). In the US, Billboard’s top wedding song is Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson featuring Bruno Mars. A 2013 Mixmag poll named Daft Punk’s One More Time as the ultimate dance track, whereas Radio 2 listeners in 2008 voted for Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean.

But what about those for whom dancing is more than recreation? When it comes to dance on stage, there is plenty that isn’t driven by music at all. Back in the 1940s, the US choreographer Merce Cunningham began to disconnect dance and music in his collaborations with the composer John Cage, rehearsing the dancers in silence. Some choreographers use music to create dance in the studio that is totally different from what they’ll perform to on stage. Dance that’s focused on musical connection definitely went out of fashion for a while, but there are a bunch of shows coming up where music is the absolute driving force.

Brixton House, London
Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s compassionate solo play follows a young mother’s struggle to get life back on track after time behind bars

Plenty of abuse survivors don’t go on to commit terrible crimes, argues the titular Baby as she attempts to make sense of the cause-and-effect cycle that landed her in prison and saw her precious baby daughter forcibly removed. It’s a line that echoes the more merciless commentary surrounding the case of US death row inmate Christa Pike, whose failed execution last month led to global headlines.

Produced by Brixton House and Clean Break, a theatre company built specifically for women in the sightlines of the criminal justice system, Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s compassionate solo play offers a holistic, cradle-to-grave look at its character’s life, while spotlighting a broken pipeline. Once you’ve fallen through the cracks and into a gutter of crime and drug dependency, it argues, it’s impossible to climb back out. Survive and you’ll become a number with a case file and a lack of agency, whose remaining years will be spent pinballing between probation officers and case workers.

A decade after the premiere of his work setting Kane’s hard-hitting play, it’s returning to the Royal Opera House. The composer remembers its fevered beginnings, the sweat and tears shed along the way, and how it changed his life forever

In January 2015, I was on an overnight flight coming back from New York, having attended Prototype, a festival of new opera. I didn’t sleep a wink, but worked without stopping in a packed, dark, sleepy cabin, reading and annotating a book and furiously making notes on my laptop. As if in a fever dream, my mind whirled with text, music, dramaturgy, theatre.

Those six nocturnal hours were some of the most creatively fertile of my life. The book was 4.48 Psychosis; the annotations became the blueprint for an opera. Sarah Kane’s text had unlocked something in me, a fervour, a deluge of ideas. I could barely keep up, noting every impulse, every fantasy, as my mind pinballed around.

Harold Pinter theatre, London
This Ranevskaya feels of our time but Conor McPherson’s plain-speaking adaptation, co-starring Stephen Mangan, doesn’t always hit you emotionally

There have been several starry Madame Ranevskayas in recent times. The prodigal Russian landowner, returning to her beloved estate and cherry orchard, was searingly played by Nina Hoss in 2024 and less memorably by Helen Hunt this summer. Now here is Kristin Scott Thomas, who brings a hard-edged modernity that you believe in. She feels of our time, despite the references to dachas and peasants, and could be an upper-middle-class Chelsea mother or minister’s wife, stewing in regret and an unfulfilled life.

Ian Rickson’s elegantly directed production uses a plain-speaking new adaptation by Conor McPherson. The pair have previous form on Chekhov, from six years ago, when they brought a pitch-perfect version of Uncle Vanya to the West End. This too is handsome and engaging, the crumbling drawing room of Chloe Lamford’s set design bearing damp patches and a faded grandeur.

London film festival
McKellen and Allam reprise their roles for the film version of Ben Weatherill’s play in a star-filled bittersweet comedy about finding love later in life

There is a tender sweetness to this silver-years romance of new experiences and new ideas – and also some sugary sentimentality, an autumnal woodwind score telling us how to feel, and a bit of sitcom-cartoony characterisation in the all-star gallery of supporting turns. Sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t. But the movie’s easy-going good nature wins out – and there’s a terrific contribution from Joanna Lumley, playing Belinda, an elegant woman poignantly suffering from early onset dementia. Screenwriter Martin Sherman adapts the two-hander stage-play by Ben Weatherill in which Roger Allam and Ian McKellen originally starred. They return here for the expanded movie version and Sean Mathias once again directs.

Allam plays Frank, a retired history teacher whose wife died of cancer a few short years ago (Belinda is his sister-in-law) and who now likes to walk his dog Toffee on Hampstead Heath. McKellen is Percy, an academic sociologist and climate scientist who can be found there too, with his dog Bruno. Percy is rather acrimoniously separated from his now ex-partner, a waspish and querulously self-pitying figure gamely played by Stephen Fry.

Shakespeare’s bloody revenge-fest is full of horror and grotesquerie but the camaraderie of performing it with a youth theatre had an upbeat effect

Titus Andronicus has to be among William Shakespeare’s worst plays. In fact TS Eliot called it “one of the stupidest and most uninspired plays ever written”. Yet it holds a very special place in my heart. It’s a bloody revenge-fest in which each act of violence is more grotesque than the last. Titus Andronicus returns from war with “barbarous” Tamora, “Queen of the Goths”, as his prisoner. She stealthily proceeds to kill and destroy his family, and when he discovers this, he murders her sons and serves them up to her in a pie. The play ends with gudgeons of fake blood and a sea of carnage. In Shakespeare’s day it was a huge hit, a kind of slasher film of the 16th century.

Plays are very powerful things and I have spent my life watching them and writing them. Some have been revelatory but none has affected me like Titus Andronicus. It was the first play, outside of school, that I was ever in – so I suppose this is about the transformative power of youth theatre.

Audiences in Manchester will be asked to wear smart glasses for An Ark, which debuted in New York this year

Ian McKellen will star in a groundbreaking new play that gets its UK premiere in Manchester next spring. But the veteran actor will not set foot on stage.

The Lord of the Rings star is taking part in An Ark, a “mixed reality” play that had its debut in New York earlier this year. Theatregoers are asked to wear smart glasses, which project the actors into the room.

As the Oscar-winning Stasi surveillance film hits the stage, Knightley and co-star Luke Thompson talk about the paranoia at its heart, the cost of theatre tickets nowadays – and their fury at ringtones in the stalls

Unpacking assorted tubs of carrot sticks and salad, Keira Knightley winces apologetically. “I just realised I’ve got very crunchy food,” she says. How apropos that she should consider the impact that her lunch might have on my audio recording when we are here to discuss The Lives of Others, a new play in which the characters are divided between the spies and the spied-upon.

Based on the Oscar-winning 2006 film and set in East Berlin in 1984, the play stars Knightley as Christa-Maria, a theatre actor in a relationship with a playwright, Georg, played by Luke Thompson. Earwigging on them is Wiesler (Stephen Dillane), the Stasi officer whose principles are gradually challenged and weakened by his round-the-clock exposure to this cultured couple.

Battersea Arts Centre, London
Women up for a role as Chekhov’s aspiring actor navigate their meetings with a needling director in a tense show

Smile. Introduce yourself. Say you’re such a big fan. Now do whatever he tells you. These are the unspoken rules the women follow as they take turns auditioning in Caroline Williams’ discomforting, rage-fuelled production about men and power and rotting winged roadkill.

The women are auditioning for the role of Nina, the aspiring actor in Chekhov’s The Seagull, in an experimental production directed by sombrely pretentious wunderkind Goran (a brooding Rowan Polonski). Using live-feed cameras in his show, he is the type of director to dismiss the need for an intimacy coordinator while claiming credit for having one in the room.

As she leaves the Traitors castle to star in The Pelicot Trial and receive a lifetime achievement award, the actor has highlighted ‘a loss of regional identity’ caused by funding pressures on UK theatres

There has been “a loss of regional identity” in the stories on stages around the UK due to the challenging circumstances facing theatres, according to Julie Hesmondhalgh.

The actor, who last week was the fourth contestant to leave The Celebrity Traitors, observed that for financial reasons regional theatres are increasingly making co-productions with other venues. This can lead to a “generic” product, she said, rather than a show that specifically says something about the local area.

Reading Town Hall
The standup’s new tour covers cross-cultural identity, Hollywood mix-ups and exactly how honest to be about your children’s arts and crafts output

How British is Sindhu Vee? And how Indian? That’s what her new standup show Swanky addresses in a wonderfully self-possessed opening that sees her give account of herself to an old duffer at a party. It’s a subject well suited to Vee’s beady and sceptical style, as she drops a tart gag about India-Pakistan relations, or later interrogates the assumptions of a micro-aggressing mum at the school gate. One might wish the whole show were themed around this topic, but its larger part majors in the relatable if not always revelatory subject of parenting. And that’s before we even mention her tacked-on final section, on another matter entirely.

The parenting material dominates the show, and ranges from the generic to the specific. Specifically, Vee has a big age gap between her first two kids and her third, and many of the jokes are about how differently Child 3 has been raised – cue sardonic eye-rolling at the helicopter parenting of others, and of her own younger self. Sometimes this shades into over-familiarity (teens and their mobile phones), or cynicism, or both – as in the routine about the rubbishness of her kid’s arts and craft output.

Peter Flannery’s 90s TV drama classic is getting a theatre reworking in Newcastle. The director and cast talk about doing justice to its themes of scandal and decay – and emulating its star-making actors

In a small room at the top of Newcastle upon Tyne’s Live theatre, four actors are bringing to life the principal characters from one of British television’s best-loved dramas. Sitting around a table strewn with coffee cups, water bottles and annotated scripts, Tosker and Geordie have been boozing in a nightclub and weighing up their chances of pulling. Mary and Nicky have been arguing about whether they have a future together.

The scenes are from a new stage version of Our Friends in the North, the landmark nine-episode series first broadcast in 1996 on BBC Two. Set against a backdrop of Labour politics and police corruption, it charted 30 years in the lives of four working-class geordies and made stars of Mark Strong, Daniel Craig, Gina McKee and Christopher Eccleston. It was a hit with critics and viewers, won awards and regularly makes “greatest ever” lists.

The production marks the Hollywood director’s first play written for the stage, which he will also direct

Sacha Baron Cohen will headline Quentin Tarantino’s play The Popinjay Cavalier when it premieres on the West End in London in March 2027.

The production marks the Hollywood director’s first work written for the stage – which he will also direct.

Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh
Gayle Rankin is funny, sharp-tongued and sexually forthright as Vicky Featherstone’s production ditches 1930s starchiness for the bohemian avant garde

Jean Brodie has entered the classroom of Mr Lowther (Brian Ferguson). She tells the music teacher she will not be a distraction. “Proceed as if I wasn’t here,” she says.

Yeah, right. Nothing can proceed as if Jean Brodie was not there. Played by Gayle Rankin in a drape-sleeved top and figure-hugging leather skirt, she is impossible to ignore. Chloe Lamford’s dust-pink set is a little bit lecture theatre, an awful lot neo-classical staircase; Rankin floats across it like an exotic moth: colourful, distractable, ever present.

When the actor confessed to ingesting a few flakes of her mother’s ashes on opening nights, reactions ranged from recognition to disgust. But, she says, grief makes animals of us all

There have been headlines of late that make me out to be an ash-guzzling savage nightly devouring her mother’s charred remains. “Rachael Stirling eats mother Diana Rigg’s ashes before going on stage” declared a dozen news outlets last month, while others referred to the “strange habit only she really understands” and “Dame Diana’s daughter admits eating her ashes in bizarre tribute”. I’ve written a book about our relationship, All About My Mother, in which I do confess to nibbling a grain or two, but I didn’t expect to be portrayed as a matricidal cannibal by the press.

My mother was Diana Rigg, an iconic actor with a 60-year career. Young ’uns will know her as the Queen of Thorns from Game of Thrones, be-wimpled spouter of the best verbal roasts on television: “I’ve known a great number of clever men. I’ve outlived them all. You know how? I ignored them.” Old ’uns, meanwhile, go dewy-eyed at the memory of her leather-catsuited telly triumph as Emma Peel in The Avengers from the 60s, the first woman to perform kung fu on western television. She was also the only woman ever to marry James Bond. She appeared in The Great Muppet Caper because I was profoundly in love with Miss Piggy, and her child-murdering Medea was the toast of Broadway. She won an Emmy and a Tony, and had countless honours bestowed upon her for her many stage performances. She was a complete original and very witty to boot.

Richmond theatre, London
Jump scares, flying furniture and psychological unravelling hurtle towards a climax as a trio of guests investigate supernatural goings on at an abandoned mansion

There aren’t many productions that have the audience screaming within seconds of curtain up. But this is an adaptation of Shirley Jackson’s chilling 1959 novel, which Stephen King deemed “as nearly perfect ­­­a haunted-house tale as I have ever read”. It has some seriously spooky shoes to fill.

There is certainly the heart-quickening rumble of threat throughout (even terror, for some – the person in front of me spent the whole performance clutching their neighbour, muttering “No, no, no, I do not like this at all”). This is largely thanks to slick, inventive stagecraft from director Martin Constantine. As a trio of guests arrives at the abandoned Hill House ­– invited by Dr Montague to investigate its rumoured supernatural affliction ­– a soundscape of unsettling music, creaky hinges and unidentified thuds accompanies an intensifying stream of jump scares. Bulbs blow, blankets hover, menacing scrawls appear on walls, and furniture slides about unaided – a disquieting suggestion that even the set changes are the work of ghosts.

Feted for cooking up shows that can be mouthwatering as well as thought-provoking, the artist discusses his fusion of South Korean and European culture

When I meet Jaha Koo in Oslo, where he has just been honoured with the prestigious International Ibsen award, I hand him a congratulatory packet of Haribo. The alternative would be a jar of kimchi but one of the many things you learn from Koo’s captivating theatre shows is that air travel and fermented vegetables can be a disastrous combo. When he moved to Berlin from South Korea with 10kg of his grandma’s finest kimchi, it became “bloated like a dead whale” and exploded on his balcony. His new neighbours were unimpressed.

In Koo’s current touring production, Haribo Kimchi, he examines how this unlikely fusion of two foods represents his cultural identity. He does so while preparing an onstage banquet for two lucky audience members. Despite spending many years in Europe, where Haribo gummies originated around a century ago, Koo still finds himself considered foremost as Korean by Europeans. But when he returns to his original homeland he is not always seen as Korean either.

Royal Court theatre, London
A Black British woman traces her family’s enslaved past in Joy Nesbitt’s supernaturally charged play

Joy Nesbitt’s fantastically chilling play is both a ghost story and a reckoning with the undocumented history of enslaved people. It takes us from present-day America into the past, towards the exact moment when slavery was abolished.

A white couple has turned their South Carolina plantation into a holiday rental. People come for celebrations and weddings, we hear. It is tantamount to slave-plantation tourism, says Talulah (Jodie Campbell), a Black British woman who has traced her family line to this spot. Talulah is trying to channel her descendant Ginnie (Ronkẹ Adékọluẹ́jọ) through the ritual practice of “conjuring” – making contact is a way to fill in the gaps of her family’s enslaved past.

Jeremy Strong plays Mark Zuckerberg in Aaron Sorkin’s sequel to The Social Network, and the Last One Laughing star reckons with divorce in her new standup tour

The Social Reckoning
Out now
The David Fincher-directed The Social Network has only come to seem more canny over time, with the site co-founded by Mark Zuckerberg being held responsible for all manner of social ills. In this sequel from Aaron Sorkin (this time directing and writing) based on the incidents around the 2021 leak of internal Facebook memos, Zuck is embodied not by Jesse Eisenberg but Jeremy Strong.

Royal Exchange theatre, Manchester
Matthew Dunster’s disruptive reinvention of the tragedy merges two roles for its star and at times enters Game of Thrones territory

The TV series Succession was partly modelled on King Lear, the family name Roy derived from the monarchic French roi. Returning the compliment, Matthew Dunster’s production centralises dynastic dynamics among the young as they plot around a splintering figurehead.

The reading is supported by a modern setting – jeans, car keys and handguns for hessian, horses and swords – on an Anna Fleischle set of spangly strings variously dividing the stage into a nightclub, England and France, dungeons and, in the storm scene, serving as shower curtains to keep theatregoers dry.

Barbican theatre, London
With a dual narrative set in Tokyo and a world of dreams, Philippe Decouflé’s epic production is as bewitching as its balletic unicorns

How to stage Haruki Murakami’s epic, dual-narrative novel without leaving the audience in a muddle? Director-choreographer Philippe Decouflé goes big, filling the enormous Barbican stage with a kaleidoscope of dream worlds for Ako Takahashi’s adaptation. It could have become a scramble of stories and inquiries into memory, technological advances in society and the imagination. Instead, it is turned into one long immaculate coup de théâtre.

There are two versions of the protagonist, Watashi (Tatsuya Fujiwara) – one is in Tokyo, the other in a world comprising dreams. The city is noirish while the latter is beautiful but dangerous, with a complicated storyline involving the sundering of humans from their shadows, a walled city, roaming animals and a professor (Narushi Ikeda) who collects their skulls to channel past experiences through sound.

Widespread blackouts have become increasingly common in Cuba since the US imposed energy sanctions in January. Outages frequently surpass 24 hours as the ageing grid fails. The Impulso theatre group has had to adapt as power cuts pose severe challenges for the performing arts

Tom Stoppard theatre, London
Stranger Things’ Gaten Matarazzo leads the grief-stricken 90s musical about friends living under the threat of Aids

Is Rent one of the musical greats? It’s a forever fan favourite – this new production extended its run even before the official opening – and its origin story holds a special place in theatre-kid hearts. Jonathan Larson, Rent’s creator, died just before the off-Broadway premiere in 1996, aged 35 – a poignant echo of its raggle-taggle bohemians in New York, living fast and fearing death will come before their time.

This production is developed by director Luke Sheppard (Paddington: The Musical) from his version at Manchester’s Hope Mill theatre. With onstage seating circling the space, Sheppard cradles the piece in community, knitting together the story’s hopeful vagabonds. Actors watch between scenes, harmonising and dancing in their chairs. The cast even form something close to a prayer circle for the imperishable Seasons of Love.

As we approach the centenary of equal franchise in 2028, it is important to build on the rights that were won by the suffragettes, writes Helen Pankhurst

There was a proud Pankhurst in the audience in Leicester as Sylvia: A Musical Revolution began its national tour (Suffragette cities: blazing Sylvia Pankhurst musical hits the road – in pictures, 3 October). A blazing show indeed – and one that, 98 years after women gained the vote on equal terms with men, asks how much remains to be done, how to do it and how women can bridge their differences to advance their common cause.

As Sylvia Pankhurst’s granddaughter and Emmeline Pankhurst’s great-granddaughter, I honour both women. Their political paths diverged. I seek to reconcile their legacies through Centenary Action, the cross-party coalition that I lead, in a shared cause: dismantling the barriers to women’s participation, selection and retention in politics.