Grafting through the grief, a beautifully vulnerable, and nuanced portrayal of the psychology rooted in working-class masculinity.
Max Emmerson Productions present a deeply authentic portrayal of working-class masculinity—its constraints, contradictions, and quiet vulnerabilities. Joe Mallalieu’s brilliant solo performance is raw, emotive, and powerful. Over the course of an hour, we are deeply drawn into a part of society rarely given such unflinching, unapologetic, and compassionate focus on stage. Under Tess Seddon’s astute direction, Mallalieu writes a piece that is not only theatrically engaging, but also socially urgent.
Mallalieu, a former plasterer himself, brings a lived-in truth to his performance. His presence is magnetic—naturalistic, grounded, and emotionally nuanced. He seamlessly moves through everyday banter, technical plastering detail, and personal anecdotes, all while peeling back layers of inherited expectations and emotional repression. His performance reminds us that masculinity, particularly in the working-class context, is often tied to silence, toughness, and skill—but beneath that, there’s tenderness, trauma, and longing.
The set is cleverly simple yet symbolic—two flats representing a room mid-renovation, with three gaping holes torn into the plaster. These physical wounds in the set mirror the emotional wounds Danny (Mallalieu’s character) tries to patch over. As he works, he speaks to the ghost of his beloved Grandad, evoking memories of early days on the job site and the generational bonding and banter that occurred not through emotional conversations, but through doing and building. There is deep poignancy in this; the trades are not only inherited vocations but emotional legacies too.
There is an excellent use of lighting and soundscapes which moves us between timelines and emotions, particularly Danny’s present-day reflections and his younger self’s memories with the lads, Jason and Kyle. The sound design creates a haunting, almost dreamlike texture, contrasting with the solid, physical world of tools and plaster.
The play thoughtfully addresses the complex identity formation of working-class tradesmen. The expectation to “pick up your dad’s tools” becomes both a source of pride and entrapment. The weight of generational masculinity hangs heavy—what happens when your identity is handed down rather than chosen? Can you be more than your trade, without betraying it?
What makes this piece especially powerful is how it handles the emotional repression so often linked with traditional masculine roles. Rum lads, with enough bravado to form the basis of the stories passed on down at the pub, are shown as both bonding mechanisms and barriers. But within this, Mallalieu finds moments of gentleness and introspection, as well as the brutality of supressed emotional trauma, suggesting that masculinity is not rigid—there is space for change, for healing, and for new narratives to be written.
Theatre rarely gives space to authentic, unfiltered representations of working-class men—particularly in a way that is neither patronising nor stigmatised. This piece is refreshing in its refusal to shy away from the dirt, both literal and metaphorical. It tells a story that deserves to be told—and retold.
Ultimately, there’s hope. In the words of Danny’s Grandad: “Do things right at the start, so things go easier later on.” Perhaps this is the message for the next generation of men—to do the emotional work early, to speak the unsaid, to break cycles without breaking themselves.
Following its run at the Edinburgh Fringe 2024, Rum is coming to the end of its Spring/Summer 2025 tour which ends at The Glastonbury Festival on the 27th & 28th June 2025.
Reviewer: Gill Lewis
Reviewed: 14th June 2025
North west End UK Rating: