I managed to pack in more than 70 theatre visits this year and saw some cracking plays. And some that didn't quite ignite.

My favourite plays of 2024

(In no particular order - links through to written or video reviews):

Oedipus, Wyndhams Theatre (booking until 2 Jan 2025)

Laughing Boy, Jermyn Street Theatre

Shifters, Duke of Yorks Theatre

When It Happens to You, Park Theatre

Little Foxes, Young Vic (booking until 8 Feb 2025)

Alma Mater, Almeida Theatre

Cyrano, Park Theatre (booking until 11 Jan 2025)

For Black Boys... Garrick Theatre

Wormholes, Omnibus Theatre

Waiting For Godot, Theatre Royal Haymarket

The Long Run, New Diorama

The Importance of Being Earnest, National Theatre (booking until 25 Jan, 2025)

Least favourite plays of 2024:

Machinal, Old Vic Theatre - I'm a feminist, but...I found the central female character extremely irritating. Sorry, I know a lot of people really liked this play. It's the second production I've seen, and I had a similar response the first time, so nothing to do with the Old Vic.

Seeing Cat On A Hot Tin roof a couple of weeks after The Little Foxes at the Young Vic Theatre, I couldn't help but draw some parallels. Both are period pieces that feature misogyny and unhappy families manoeuvring and manipulating to get their hands on wealth.

In the case of LF, it's about the spoils of a family business deal; in COHTR, it's an inheritance, but the women's lack of leverage in the fight compared to the men is similar. Both also feature strained marriages, but in COHTR, we delve deeper into the reasons.

The patriarch, Big Daddy (Lennie James), is dying, hence the manoeuvring, except in the case of younger, favoured son Brick (Kingsley Ben-Adir), it's left up to his wife Margaret, aka Maggie the Cat (Daisy Edgar-Jones), to make sure they get their fair share.

Brick only has eyes for liquor bottles. The suicide of his best friend - perhaps represented on stage by a mystery piano player (Seb Carrington) - isn't the only thing he is drinking to forget. 

There is little sign of love in Brick and Maggie's marriage, but that isn't unusual among the wider family. Is Brick crueller for simply ignoring Maggie than his father is for showing his blatant disgust for his 'old and fat' wife, Big Mama (Clare Burt)?

It's been a bit of a build-up to seeing Alma Mater at the Almeida Theatre. Twice performances we booked were cancelled, and tickets had to be rearranged.

So it was a relief to finally sit in the theatre watching it on a third attempt.

There has been a cast change; Justine Mitchell has taken over the role of Jo from Lia Williams, who had to pull out due to ill health.

With so little rehearsal time, Justine Mitchell still had her script in hand when I saw it, but her performance was such that I barely noticed. She plays an ex-journalist, feminist campaigner and now master of an esteemed college steeped in tradition and history.

When fresher Paige (Liv Hill) confides in student Nikki (Phoebe Campbell) that she was sexually assaulted, Nikki decides to take up the cause and turns to Jo.

But when Jo doesn't give Nikki the answers she wants, battle lines are drawn.

Kendall Feaver's play is knotty; there are no simple answers or straightforward characters.

Tanya Reynolds and Samuel Adewunmi in A Mirror at the Trafalgar Theatre - photo by Marc Brenner

The wedding between Layla and Joel is back on, having found a new venue at the Trafalgar Theatre.

Sam Holcroft's play A Mirror, which won rave reviews when it opened at the Almeida Theatre, has brought its lies to the West End.

That isn't a spoiler, it tells us the play is a lie in a tagline. And we, the audience, are complicit; we play along as wedding guests, standing for the bride and later to take an oath.

But for which lie are we complicit?

Inspired by Sam Holcroft's visit to North Korea, this is a play about culture in a repressive regime. What theatre is suitable for public consumption in the eyes of the state? Who is it for, and what does theatre mean in that scenario?

It is also about the truth and lies of theatre arts.

Layla and Joel's wedding is a performance, not so much a play within a play but a play to hide a play. 

That play follows Čelik (Jonny Lee Miller), the director at the Ministry of Culture, who believes he is a connoisseur of the arts and wants to improve the quality of what gets approved for performance.

When a play written by car mechanic Adem (Samuel Adewunmi) lands on his desk, it contains so many infractions of what is 'acceptable' theatre that Čelik should report him to the Ministry of Security.

It feels like theatre returned with a splash in 2023 after the dark days of Covid. I saw 62 and a half plays (64 and a half, including second viewings) across London's plethora of theatres, from tiny pubs to big West End stages.

Here are my favourite 10 plays - in no particular order (links are to the full review).

1. No One, Omnibus Theatre

This was a fun, lively and inventive storytelling, with brilliant fight scenes.

2. Linck and Mulhahn, Hampstead Theatre

Based on a real same-sex couple living in the 18th Century Prussia, this was a witty, effervescent and heartbreaking play.

3. Mediocre White Male, King's Head Theatre

Subtle shifts and throwaway remarks build to make a powerful point.

4. A Little Life, Harold Pinter Theatre (and Savoy Theatre)

A harrowing and compelling play that utterly flawed me and I had to go back and see it again.

5. The Motive and the Cue, National Theatre and Noel Coward Theatre

Superb performances in this sharp, funny and interesting play. So good, I had to see it twice.

At the interval during Portia Coughlan at the Almeida, I turned to my friend and said, 'it's very Greek tragedy'. At that point, I hadn't seen the Almeida's behind-the-scenes video in which Alison Oliver, who plays Portia, says: "It's very Greek in terms of the extremities she goes through".

I'd been careful to avoid any information about the play so I could sit down and watch without preconceived ideas.

Which seems a good time to do a spoiler warning. There may be more detail than I would typically include in this. Click away now if that's not your bag.

When we first meet Portia, she's still in her night dress and already drinking. It's her birthday, but her mood isn't exactly celebratory. Her emotions are strained by the absence of her twin brother Gabriel, who died 15 years earlier.

She is dismissive, distant and harsh to her loving husband and neglectful of her three children. This isn't a person in a good place.

Pain and grief roll off her in waves, but there is a desire for something. Sometimes it's a desire to forget, perhaps to feel something else or escape. During the day, she seeks out sex with lovers as well as drink.

There is also a desire for something more destructive; she doesn't seem to care about being seen.

But equally, she feels acutely her family's silence around Gabriel. Her family are unsympathetic, and she takes their reprimands silently - most of the time.

I was intrigued about A Mirror before I even got to my seat. Its description on the website doesn't give much away (and I don't like to read any interviews until afterwards).

The Almeida foyer is decked out ready for a wedding celebration. But alongside pink ribbons and pastel balloons, there is a huge Oath of Allegiance on the wall and notices from the Ministry of Culture reminding you of the rules and regulations.

That contrast in tone - celebration and authority - is emblematic of Sam Holcroft's play which has you thinking you are watching one thing, only for the curtain to be ripped back to reveal something else.

A Mirror is about making theatre when the state decides what is and isn't suitable to be put on stage. And from the moment you step into the decorated foyer, you are part of the narrative.

Inspired by Holcroft's visit to North Korea, Adem (Michael Ward) submits his first play to the Ministry of Culture for approval.

It ends up in the hands of Čelik (Jonny Lee Miller), a slightly sinister senior official who happens to have a love - and knowledge - of theatre. He doesn't want to necessarily follow a check list of suitability, but he does have firm ideas about what theatre should and shouldn't be.

He sees talent in Adem if only it can be channelled into material appropriate for public viewing.

The Almeida's production of A Streetcar Named Desire quickly sold out, presumably helped by the casting of Paul Mescal as Stanley. But the play's drama started before it opened:  A few days before previews began, its Blanche - Lydia Wilson - had to pull out.

Olivier-winner* Patsy Ferran stepped into the breach taking on the lead role, the first week of performances was cancelled to give her some rehearsal time, and the press night was pushed back to January (yes, this performance was an unintended preview).

While it wasn't referenced that Ferran would have a script with her in the stage manager's brief pre-performance speech, she had a black, hardbacked notebook with her throughout. However, it didn't really register for a long time until she seamlessly opened it, glanced at a page and then closed it again without missing a beat.

Seamless performance

In fact, I hardly noticed her looking at it; it was held like a prop as if it was dear possession, an item of comfort that Blanche clings to. And it was the only slight hint of having had so little time to prepare. She was that good.

The other unexpectedly great performance was director Rebecca Frecknall, who stood in to play Eunice.

Pushing last-minute substitutions to one side, this production is a very different beast from others I've seen. For a start, Ferran's Blanche is so fragile. You really get the sense of this being someone who is damaged, rendered delicate with frayed nerves. 

Hers is a sweet charm, an almost innocent flirtation which she can turn on almost like a reflex rather than a more overt sexiness of other portrayals. Her behaviour feels like her protective casing from years of trying to numb past trauma.

Menacing performance from Mescal

I feared for her before the brute that is Stanley had even stepped on stage. And Mescal's Stanley is menacing. Previously only having seen him play very gentle and quiet characters; it was great to watch.

Tea drinking features heavily in Dipo Baruwa-Etti's posh kitchen-set play The Clinic at the Almeida Theatre. But this tea may or may not have intoxicating or calming effects; even those who fervently dislike infusions get a taste for it. 

The Clinic, Almeida Theatre Sep 22. Mercy Ojelade, Gloria Obianyo, Maynard Eziashi, Donna Berlin and Simon Manyonda. Photo: Marc Brenner

And that is The Clinic, a mix of contemporary family drama and something more difficult to put a finger on.

It opens with the 60th birthday celebration of Segun (Maynard Eziashi) with his wife Tiwa (Donna Berlin), son Bayo (Simon Manyonda, daughter Ore (Gloria Obianyo) and Bayo's wife Amina (Mercy Ojelade).

The dialogue crackles and sparks; this is a familiar family dynamic that is a mix of love and frustration. There are harsh jibes and sharp digs centring on politics and activism.

Segun is a therapist and author, and Tiwa volunteers at a women's refuge. They have made a comfortable life for themselves and vote Tory. Bayo is in the police, Ore is a junior doctor and both vote labour. Amina is a labour politician.

Job choice comes under scrutiny, as does who is best placed to force change and drive racial equality and what is the most effective tactic. Sparks fly in a fierce, passionate, angry debate that quickly spills over into hurtful remarks.

Into this mix comes Wunmi (Toyin Ayedun-Alase), a suicidal widow with a baby, whom Ore thinks her parents can help.

Confession: I sat down to watch the Patriots at the Almeida, not realising that the central character Boris Berezovsky (Tom Hollander) was based on a real person. 🤦🏻  The penny drop moment came when a character previously referred to as 'The Kid' was introduced as Roman Abramovich (Luke Thallon).

Poster for Patriots, Almeida Theatre July 2022

Peter Morgan's play follows Berezovsky from his position as an influential oligarch who helps to put Vladimir Putin (Will Keen) in power to public enemy and exile.

He has a clever mind, a sharp tongue and is not shy of dropping f-bombs. While his primary motivation, he tells us, is doing what is best for his country, his arrogance says something slightly different. And that arrogance blinds him or skewers his judgement and leads to his downfall.

Tom Hollander plays Berezovsky with wit and swagger; it is a star performance (he got a standing ovation at the end) but not a surprising performance.  

Putin is the only other character that has some traction in the play and is expertly played by Keen. He really embodies the character presenting an uncanny likeness that is quite disconcerting.

Wasted character

It's similar for Thallon, he does bear an uncanny resemblance to the man he is playing. However, his character feels wasted, with little for Thallon to really get his teeth into, particularly given the meatier roles he's had recently (Camp Siegfried and After Life).