‘an important piece of theatre, delivered with remarkable sensitivity, intelligence and precision’
The production, written by Isabelle Palmer, opens in fragments: flickers of teenage joy, half-remembered conversations, the kind of soft-focus nostalgia that makes you forget what came next. Supported by assistant director Naomi Ricci, director Dionne Hunter embraces this fractured style from the very first beat, dropping us into SHE’s scattered memories rather than leading us through a tidy chronology. It’s a bold choice that immediately signals a production unwilling to sanitise the messy, disorientating reality of coercive control.
Across a number of years, Filipa Pereira’s SHE revisits her relationship with JACK between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two. The script ricochets through time, scenes colliding and overlapping like memories replaying themselves without warning. It’s an ambitious structure that demands absolute precision, and the creative team rise to the challenge. Transitions are seamless, lighting shifts are carefully judged, and despite the fractured narrative, the emotional arc remains strikingly clear.
The production’s visual language quietly mirrors SHE’s emotional journey. Early scenes feel open and full of possibility, with space, warmth and light reflecting the exhilaration of first love. As JACK’s influence tightens, that world steadily contracts. Lighting narrows its focus, the sound design develops a harsher edge, and the once-vibrant atmosphere gives way to an increasing sense of claustrophobia. By the final act, the stage itself seems to close in, echoing the emotional confinement at the heart of the story. Intimacy coordinator Zane Marsland further strengthens that honesty, ensuring moments of physical closeness remain authentic, purposeful and firmly rooted in the shifting balance of power.
At the centre of it all is Filipa Pereira, delivering a quietly devastating performance as SHE. She charts the character’s gradual unravelling with remarkable subtlety: the optimism of sixteen, the uncertainty of eighteen, and the hollow stillness that eventually replaces the young woman we first met. Her physicality speaks volumes, from the way her posture gradually diminishes to the careful hesitations that creep into her speech whenever JACK is near. Pereira understands that abuse isn’t defined by a single explosive moment, but by countless seemingly insignificant moments that slowly dismantle a person’s sense of self.
Opposite her, Noah Lennon gives an unsettling performance as JACK precisely because he never slips into caricature. His charm curdles almost imperceptibly, possessiveness disguised as care and manipulation wrapped in affection. The production wisely resists presenting him as an obvious villain. Instead, it exposes how easily controlling behaviour can masquerade as protectiveness, particularly within the intensity of young love. That ordinariness is exactly what makes JACK so frightening, and Lennon captures it with chilling restraint.
The supporting cast provide the emotional foundations of SHE’s world. Tiana Wanjiru brings warmth and humour as Carrie and recognises the danger long before SHE can admit it, her directness offering moments of painful clarity. Robyn Aster’s Rachel provides a perfect balance between SHE and Carrie.
That psychological isolation becomes the production’s most powerful achievement. JACK doesn’t simply dominate SHE; he systematically strips away every source of support until leaving him feels more frightening than staying. The play’s most devastating insight is that she becomes trapped not only by fear, but by the belief that without him she has nothing left. It is this manufactured dependence, rather than physical violence alone, that emerges as the abuse’s most insidious weapon.
There is no sensationalism here, no melodramatic villain waiting in the wings. Little Deaths instead offers a meticulous study of how coercive control grows through tiny compromises, subtle manipulations and silences that accumulate almost unnoticed. Beyond the stage, content creator Glory Oyewobi extends the production’s reach, helping its urgent themes resonate beyond the theatre and reinforcing the conversations the play seeks to ignite.
The final poignant scene where SHE relives sweet and innocent childhood memories brings a tear to the eye of even the most hardened theatre goer.The result is gripping, humane and quietly devastating. Little Deaths lingers long after the final blackout, leaving audiences not only emotionally shaken but with a sharper understanding of how coercive control takes hold. It is an important piece of theatre, delivered with remarkable sensitivity, intelligence and precision.
Review Date: 25th July 2026
Star Rating: FOUR