L-R Soroosh Lavasani, Ryan Nolan, Lauren Waine in The Bounds. Photo: Von Fox Promotions

Stewart Pringle's play The Bounds at the Royal Court Theatre upstairs is set in 1553. It's the day of a much-anticipated football game between two rival Northumberland villages.

But this isn't football as we now know it; Tudor football is played over a sprawling area, it's violent, and it lasts as long as it takes for there to be a winner.

Percy (Ryan Nolan) and Rowan (Lauren Waine) are positioned on one of the very outer edges of the game, keeping an eye out for any sign of play coming their way. Then Sam (Saroosh Lavasani) turns up. Neither Percy nor Rowan really know who he is or why he is there. 

In the introduction to the play text, Stewart Pringle describes The Bounds as the most peculiar play he's written, and as it progresses, it becomes evident why.

The opening scene of banter between Percy and Rowan about the previous year's games and what might happen at this one is full of witty lines, but the football game eventually becomes a background accompaniment to other things going on.

In 1553, the boy-king Edward VI was on the throne, and his advisors were instigating a wholesale purging of what was left of Catholicism—finishing what Henry VIII, Edward's father, had started.

We see the impact of this through the attitude of Percy and Rowan to Catholics, particularly when the reality of Protestant landgrabs hits home.

I haven't read Maggie Nelson's book Bluets, but after watching this stage version adapted by Margaret Perry at the Royal Court Theatre, I don't feel the need to.

It's directed by Katie Mitchell, and given the technical/live film treatment I last saw her use in ...some trace of her at Soho Theatre, which I really enjoyed.

In Bluets, three actors, Emma D'Arcy, Kayla Meikle and Ben Whishaw, play the same character. They stand in a row, each with a table and video camera, and above each is a screen.

They take turns delivering lines, sometimes just a few words, that tell the story of how, after a relationship breaks up, a woman falls in love with the colour blue.

It is voice-over style, so who you see on screen doesn't match who you hear. Only one screen is active at a time, allowing the other performers to set up the next snippet of live film.

The film performance is focused on reenactment/positioning shots to illustrate the story on screen. So the actor will stand side on to the camera, arms positioned to look like they are driving, while footage of a street passing plays behind them, for example.

Among the visual effects are 'walking' along a street, drinking whisky, laying in bed looking at a phone, those sorts of things.

It's technically mesmerising and fascinating to watch, at least for a while. The actors have to remember not only their snippets of dialogue but also all the video cues, where they need to be standing, what props to hold, etc.

But I have problems with it.

Word-Play, Royal Court Theatre July 2023 l-r Yusra Warsama, Issam Al Ghussain, Kosar Ali, Simon Manyonda, Sirine Saba. Photo Johan Persson

Rabiah Hussain's play Word-Play starts with a PR team in crisis mode, having just heard the Prime Minister use a particular word (we don't know what that word is) in a live interview. The press and social media are crawling all over it.

The Prime Minister refuses to apologise, and there are hints of a less sweary Thick Of It as one of the team Googles synonyms for 'sorry' for the statement they want to put out.

Performed behind a glass screen at one end of the oblong performance space, it gives the sense of being a clinical observer. We return to the story later, and there are also snippets of reactions in Whatsapp groups and social media. 

But the bulk of the play is a mixture of monologues and scenes exploring the complexity and power of words, particularly when it comes to culture and identity.

In one scene, impartiality is challenged to the point where choosing certain descriptive words is deemed 'opinion'. In another, a father is racked with guilt have having told his children the lie that 'names don't hurt'.

And in another, 'See it, say it, sorted' sparks a debate on what is and isn't normal.

The most powerful is the final story of a mother who is challenged over the use of her mother tongue when her young daughter uses it at school.

Less effective are the scenes where words are repeated and shouted - to what end?

The majority of the play is performed in the central space (audience on three sides) with the occasional use of plastic chairs although there is one amusing and tongue-in-cheek meta moment involving the audience.

Word-Play punches at appropriation, prejudice, and the distortion of meaning. It highlights how meaning can be ascribed through the lens of who uses or hears the word. And how language is rich, fluid and powerful.

I'm giving it ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Word-Play, Royal Court Theatre

Written by Rabiah Hussain

Directed by Nimmo Ismail

Cast: Issam Al Ghussain, Kosar Ali, Simon Manyonda, Sirine Saba, Yusra Warsama

Running time 80 minutes, no interval

Booking until 26 August; for more details and to buy tickets, visit the Royal Court's website.

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Cuckoo, Royal Court Theatre July 2023. L-R Michelle Butterly, Jodie McNee, Sue Jenkins & Emma Harrison. Photo: Manuel Harlan

Home is where the heart is for the Merseyside family at the centre of Michael Wynne's play Cuckoo at the Royal Court.

Daughters Carmel (Michelle Butterly) and Sarah (Jodie McNee) gravitate towards their mother Doreen's (Sue Jenkins) house, but when granddaughter Megyn (Emma Harrison) locks herself in an upstairs room and won't come out, the peace of their chip shop dinners and scrolling on their phones is disturbed.

Patience is tested, concerns grow, and uncomfortable truths are revealed.

The play's title serves up its double meaning. It's a reference to the borderline crazy situation and perhaps a nod to the derogatory term for people with mental health problems.

Cuckoos also famously lay their eggs in other birds' nests to be brought up by the unsuspecting 'foster' parent, and Megyn has taken up residence in her grandmother's bedroom, where Doreen waits on her hand and foot. Megyn will only communicate via text.

Megyn's mother, Carmel, is withering in her remarks, which doesn't always help the Megyn situation but does deliver a sharp humour to contrast the more playfully funny lines given to Doreen and Sarah.

But underneath the humour, the real world and the problems, struggles and strife that come with it press in.

Kate O'Flynn in All of It, Royal Court, June 2023. Photo: Tristam Kenton

In three short plays performed as monologues by Kate O'Flynn, writer Alistair McDowall explores authenticity, the inner vs outer self.

Northleigh, 1940, the first play, starts explosively with the poetic story of mythical creatures. But it's all in the head of a woman who escapes into books as often as possible.

But they aren't the sort of books a woman 'should' be reading, so she hides them. Later she has a conversation with her father in their Morrison shelter; it is ordinary, domestic and mundane.

Which is the authentic self, and what is the role of society in shaping or hindering that?

In Stereo, the second play, ordinariness again collides with less ordinary, often in an amusing way. Inner thoughts are observations and descriptions, and the self is divided, appearing in different parts of a house:

"I hear myself moving around downstairs I was keeping out of my way"

Is the voice the house? Perhaps. Just as the self has divided, so do the voices. It becomes a cacophony of inner monologues with nothing distinguishable. Which did beg the question, what was the point other than to create a noise of dialogue?

Dyllón Burnside and Danny Lee Wynter in BLACK SUPERHERO, Royal Court, March 2023. Photo: Johan Persson

"I'm holding out for a hero" is Bonnie Tyler's famous song, and it could be the theme tune for David (Danny Lee Wynter) in BLACK SUPERHERO. He's long held a torch for friend King (Dyllón Burnside), who is playing superhero Craw in a low-brow movie franchise.

"I trained at Julliard," he moans while secretly enjoying being recognised.

When King reveals that he and his travel-writer husband Steven (Ben Allen) have decided on an open relationship, David is a beneficiary of King's new liberal sleeping arrangements.

But can David keep himself together long enough not to screw up the one thing he's dreamed about?

Danny Lee Wynter's debut play bursts onto the stage with banter and bitching between David, his sister Syd (Rochenda Sandall) and friend Raheem (Eloka Ivo), who are supposed to be on a night out with King.

Sharp and witty

It sets a crisp pace and witty tone with sharp one-liners as relationships and sex - particularly each other's - getting dissected.

Alistair McDowall's The Glow at the Royal Court is a play I've had to ponder - a lot - and I still don't have any firm conclusions.

The Glow, Royal Court Theatre: Ria Zmitrowicz and Rakie Ayola. Photo Manuel Harlan

It is why my immediate thoughts on leaving the theatre were the staging and, in particular, the lighting design - which was stunning. It was something tangible to mentally grasp, but I'll come back to that.

The first half of the play is set in Victorian England. The mood is gothic: dark corners, shadows, ghostly figures and candles.

Mrs Lyall (Rakie Ayola), a spiritualist, bribes a porter at an asylum to let her have a woman (Ria Zmitrowicz) with no memory to use as a conduit for spirits. She sets the woman up in her son Mason's room (Fisayo Akinade), much to his disgust.

She is kind to her, albeit with selfish intent. She wants to be the first to reanimate a human and the woman's lack of memories or identity make her the perfect vessel.

But the woman is far more than Mrs Lyall could ever conceive. Her returning memories are strange and ancient, like the soldier (Tadhg Murphy) who chases her in them.

Al Smith's new play Rare Earth Mettle at the Royal Court is a meaty piece that covers a lot of ground, ironic considering the central premise is about the fight for control over one piece of land.

In Bolivia, Kimsa (Carlo Albán) scratches a living showing tourists around the remnants of colonial silver mines, including a British train, but the land he lives on is rich in the rare and valuable mineral lithium.

Billionaire Henry Finn (Arthur Darvill) wants to buy the land to mine the lithium for batteries for his new range of electric cars. Anna (Genevieve O'Reilly) is a doctor who wants the lithium because research tentatively shows that lithium helps improve mental health.

And Nayra (Jaye Griffiths) wants to use it for political (and financial) gain.

On the surface, there is something inherently good about all their motives - green cars, better health and a leader who wants to make life better for indigenous people.

Tarnished motives

But as the play unfolds, those motives are increasingly tarnished by the devious, corrupt and illegal means they'll go to reach their end goals.

If the play was focused purely on the debate over good motives badly executed, it would make for a really interesting and provocative play, particularly given the sharp wit and humour that weaves through it - more of that in a moment.

Two actors on stage describe their characters as if the direction in the playtext is part of the script. It is the first of many quirks in Aleshea Harris' dark revenge comedy Is God Is.

(l-r) Adelayo Adedayo and Tamara Lawrence in Is God Is, Royal Court. Photo Tristram Kenton

Twin sisters Racine (Tamara Lawrence) and Anaia (Adelayo Adedayo) receive a letter from their mother (Cecilia Noble), whom they thought was dead.

When they visit her, she tells them her dying wish is that she is avenged for a horrific past crime, and so the two set off from the "Dirty South" to California armed with just a name and a determination to carry out their mother's deadly wishes.

Dressed differently by their mother as young children so she could tell them apart, Racine is the natural leader, often protecting her more 'emotional' sister Anaia. But their mission proves revealing both about their family, their mother's past and themselves.

(l-r) Adelayo Adedayo,  Ray Emmett Brown, Tamara Lawrence in Is God Is, Royal Court. Photo Tristram Kenton

The brutality that fuels and defines the narrative is played out against incongruous sets of candy-coloured houses, cartoon-like props and sound effects. There are backdrops that would look at home in a spaghetti western and signs in different styles that announce each scene.

Sometimes plays just have one actor. They might be playing one character, they might be playing many, but they don't have any other actors to play off. It is just them and their performance.

There are no distractions, it's just you and them.

Do you have a favourite solo performance?

The moment I started thinking about this, I realised it was going to be really tricky to choose a favourite as I've seen some superb solo performances over the years.

So here are a couple of notable mentions... and my overall winner:

Carey Mulligan in Girls and Boys, Royal Court Theatre

A tour de force performance from Carey Mulligan in which she manages to paint a picture of domesticity filling the stage with a family that is only their in our imagination while subtly hinting at something different. It's a play that surprised and a lot of that was down to the delivery.

Cillian Murphy, Misterman, National Theatre

Not only was it a solo performance, it was a solo performance on the Lyttelton stage which is one of the biggest in London. And Cillian Murphy made use of the entire space. It was a superb performance that mixed humour and fun with something darker and sinister, and I still remember it vividly.