Lobster Pot – The Space

The Space is a theatre on the Isle of Dogs, managed by St. Paul’s Arts Trust (registered charity no 801587). As an organisation, they aim to increase access to the arts and support new artists. The venue was formerly St Paul’s church, built by a Presbyterian mission that started praying in the area around 1856. It’s been operating as an arts space since the late ‘90s and boasts Ian Mckellan as a patron. It’s got a charming bohemian bar and lovely staff, but visitors to this theatre might be advised to plan their journey to this ‘hood with better precision than yours truly.

A security guard at Canary Wharf had never heard of the D7 bus and sent me in the wrong direction, to a remote and incorrect bus stop. He was friendlier than Google Maps, but just as useless in the maze of metal, glass and concrete. Running late, and unhinged by anxiety, once at The Space, I followed signs to the box office. This took me to a silent kitchen, occupied by a sad chef, sat on a stool. In response to my rising hysteria, the stern cook insisted there was, ‘NO THEATRE’.

‘But the address of the theatre is here,’ I whispered, pointing at the linoleum floor, almost in tears.

‘NO THEATRE,’ he repeated, with unbending clarity.

I was in the right building, but in my urgency, had wandered through an erroneous door and sought guidance from the wrong person. Then, on finding the correct door, I walked into a hostage situation. For clarity, this was the first sign that my evening might be going to plan.

An armed siege at a supermarket is central to the plot of The Lobster Pot by Nicky Osborn, currently playing at The Space. It’s his first play and an ambitious theatrical dip into the manosphere, misogyny and the dislocating effects of trauma on perception and memory.

NicoleNadeauplays Katy who finds herself in a Tesco under siege. She takes refuge in a utility room with an employee called Joshua (Blake Crimson). He’s a young, sexist creep. She’s a wily older woman with no time for blokey banter or threats of sexual violence. Their awkward entrapment in the cupboard is thrown into further tension at the arrival of Sophie (Ellie Stones) who joins their tense sanctuary from the unseen horrors on the other side of the door. As the action unfolds, Sophie is revealed to have a vengeful agenda against Joshua, who it transpires, has a dubious past as a lively online incel.

Osborn has crafted a twisty tale which seeks to shift and question audience sympathy via surrealism, shock and alternating perspectives. It’s a fierce and fruitful concept, which might benefit from sharper distinctions and boundaries. At the end of the play, it’s hard to know what happened and who might be the villain. Perhaps that’s the point. Is any witness to their own trauma a credible source and can memory be coloured by political affiliations or grief?

Nadeau, Crimson and Stones deliver great performances, but the observations on sexual fantasy, female solidarity and toxic masculinity become somewhat lost in the shifting realities. The decision to juggle with a linear narrative and question everyone’s version of events is understandable from an artistic perspective, but diminishes the critiques it may have on the social media culture it seeks to question.

In the interest of disclosure, I admit to missing the opening sequence of Lobster Pot. By all accounts, this siege scene was stressfully dramatic and highly exciting. While surreptitiously sneaking into a seat at the back, I kicked over a glass of wine belonging to the man sat in front of me. At the end of the show, while apologising to the wine-less victim of my Daddy long legs, I asked if he had greater clarity on the narrative, having witnessed more than myself.

‘Did I miss a crucial detail due to my late arrival?’

He looked me dead in the eye and replied, ‘No’.

Reviewer: Stewart Who?

Reviewed: 17th August 2025

North West End UK Rating: