What would you do if you knew explicit photos of a young schoolgirl were being leaked? Would you do anything? Have you done anything? We’ve all witnessed situations like this before—it’s an all-too-common scenario, so common in fact that most people wouldn’t bat an eye. HER, produced by Strange Town and written by Jennifer Adam, confronts the audience directly, urging us to stand up and take action. The play insists that there is no such thing as an innocent bystander.
Fast-paced and quick-witted, we are swept into the heart of the school by our two schoolkid narrators, B1 and B2, played by Zara-Louise Kennedy and Alex Tait. The pair move deftly through a multitude of characters, from teenage bams to ostentatious patrons of the fancy restaurant where HER (Eleanor McMahon) works. While the script itself isn’t inherently laugh-out-loud funny, Kennedy and Tait draw huge laughs from the audience thanks to their bold characterisations. Owning the material completely, the duo breathe new life into HER and keep the audience engaged from start to finish.
Playing opposite B1 and B2 are HIM and HER, portrayed by Reno Cole and Eleanor McMahon. Their performances provide a stark contrast to the chaos and humour of their castmates. HIM is HER’s childhood best friend turned boyfriend, but when HER’s explicit photos are leaked, he turns on her, leaving her isolated and vulnerable. McMahon captures this fear beautifully, portraying a teenage girl doing her best to hold herself together. Despite having fewer lines than B1 and B2, McMahon’s expressive performance ensures that HER remains central to the play’s emotional core.
HIM, on the other hand, is a more complicated figure. His behaviour is unpredictable and often incoherent, though Cole handles this inconsistency well, shifting smoothly between gaslighter and self-proclaimed “hero.” The audience is left oscillating between hating him and respecting him. However, the writing of this character feels uneven and detracts from the play’s larger message. HIM’s eventual moment of redemption—standing up to a friend who is again sharing explicit pictures—feels unearned, as we never witness his development from perpetrator to ally. Though the play acknowledges his past behaviour, his sudden redemption seems to exist mainly to make a point about the power of standing up for others. While that point is important, it doesn’t feel convincing coming from HIM.
The set design is simple yet effective, consisting of three layered rostra and a backdrop for projected visuals. The minimalist approach works well—the actors’ movement and blocking maintain visual interest without requiring elaborate staging. That said, the projections themselves feel somewhat clichéd, a common challenge when dealing with themes of social media and technology that evolve so rapidly. The use of painted lines projected to represent the school’s traffic-light system is a nice touch, though other visuals feel somewhat redundant or dated. However, they likely help keep the attention of the school-aged audiences the show is intended for.
While HER holds everyone—from parents to teachers—accountable, it is most directly relevant to school children. Strange Town tours this show in schools, and with that in mind, it’s easy to see why HER is structured as it is. Its message is clear, powerful, and easy to grasp, ensuring audiences of all ages can understand its themes. HER may not be a deeply complex piece of feminist critique, but it has a vital place in both theatre and education. The work Strange Town does with schools is essential, and HER undoubtedly leaves a lasting impact on the attitudes of the young audiences who see it.
Reviewer: Jessie Martin
Reviewed: 3rd October 2025
North West End UK Rating: