There may be a rough-edged quality to Nicole Charles's pacy production, but this is a play that speaks to today, as a woman finds her own story and the voice to tell it with.
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shouting for change...Triumphant, if crude, West End transfer of a heartfelt account of a Renaissance woman
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I adore the fact a play about a neglected 17th-century female poet is generating a tidal wave of enthusiasm in the West End, but a tiny part of me couldn’t help feel that by being recast in the mould of an angry everywoman, the real Emilia has in some small way been silenced all over again.
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It's also a rousing reminder of the countless creative women who have been written out of history or have had to fight relentlessly to make themselves heard.
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This show should be shorter and a few of the feminist rants before the interval need to go (we got it the first time), but the final roar at the end from Clare Perkins is a wonder. This one could go far.
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She eyeballs us ferociously in an incendiary final speech, in which women are encouraged to embrace the flame of anger inside them. The room ignites, and complaints about structure or character development go up in smoke.
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Nicole Charles’ production loses a little of its magic in its new home, but none of its power.
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