Review: REDCLIFFE at Southwark Playhouse Borough

Date: 28/05/26

Stars: 4

History tends to remember people for the worst day of their lives.

That’s certainly true of William Critchard and Richard Arnold; their names survive because of what happened to them, not because of who they were, and what Redcliffe does so well is make them feel like real people before history catches up with them.

For much of the first act, this is actually a surprisingly funny musical – there’s romance, obviously, but there’s also family, friendship, gossip, and a village community that feels properly lived in. No one seems to exist just to move the plot along, and everyone has their own personality, their own place in the story, and their own reason for being there.

At the centre of it all is Jordan Luke Gage’s William. He’s not written as some tragic hero, nor does Gage play him that way; William is awkward, uncertain, occasionally impulsive, and trying to understand feelings he’s spent a long time ignoring. Opposite him, Daniel Krikler’s Richard seems a little more confident, a little more experienced, but he’s feeling exactly the same fear underneath it all. Together, they feel completely real; they’re not mythical folk heroes or symbols of anything – they could be your neighbours, your friends, your brothers, and that’s what makes it so easy to become invested in what happens to them.

Rebecca Lock is an absolute joy as Mother. She’s loving, protective, funny and occasionally exasperated, she steals almost every scene she’s in. Her excitement during The Most Amazing Wedding is one of the highlights of the evening; having convinced herself that William has finally met a girl, she’s practically planning the ceremony before anyone’s asked her to. Alongside her, Jess Douglas-Welsh’s Abigail gets swept up in the excitement too, and for a few minutes the whole show feels wonderfully optimistic. Every one’s imagining a future that, unfortunately, the audience already knows isn’t coming.

For a while, Redcliffe is a romance wrapped up in family life and community spirit, then there’s a discovery that changes everything. Passing the cave where William and Richard are together, Baber (Adrian Hansel) swings a lantern in their direction. There’s a flash of light, then darkness. It’s the moment that sets the rest of the story in motion, although I did find it a little underplayed considering how important it is; blink and you could almost miss it. The consequences, however, are impossible to miss.

From that point onwards, the show becomes something very different – the warmth and humour that carried so much of the first act don’t disappear completely, but they’re suddenly fighting for space against something much darker, and apart from the wonderfully upbeat Felix Farley’s Christmas Poem, the laughs become fewer and farther between as the reality of the situation starts closing in around the characters.

The score follows a similar path. Written in a modern folk style, some songs occasionally blur into one another, but there are more than enough memorable moments to keep things feeling fresh. The strongest of these is Void of Love, which is a song about suppressing feelings, pretending to be someone else, and wondering how long you can keep doing that before you totally break down. Jordan Luke Gage’s vocals are exceptional, making the whole thing seem effortless, but what really makes the song work is how you get a proper insight into William himself.

That’s something Redcliffe gets right throughout because William and Richard are never reduced to symbols or causes; yhey’re allowed to be funny, stubborn, frightened, romantic and occasionally foolish. They’re allowed to make mistakes. Most importantly, they’re allowed to be ordinary.

By the time the men reach the scaffold, there isn’t much left to say. We know what’s coming. They know what’s coming. And yet seeing them stand there together, still refusing to let go of one another, is surprisingly difficult to watch.

History remembers William Critchard and Richard Arnold because they died. Redcliffe remembers them because they lived.

Redcliffe plays at Southwark Playhouse Borough until 4th July 2026, and tickets are available here: https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/redcliffe/#book-tickets