'Manic Street Creature' review — Maimuna Memon is a performer of astonishingly varied and endless talents

Read our review of gig theatre show Manic Street Creature, now in performances at the Kiln Theatre to 28 March.

Summary

• Maimuna Memon brings back her acclaimed gig theatre show Manic Street Creature
• The show now runs at London's Kiln Theatre
• The story follows an aspiring musician who enters into a complex romantic relationship
• The production showcases Memon's astonishingly varied talents

Since Maimuna Memon debuted her semi-autobiographical piece of gig theatre, Manic Street Creature, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2022, she has won an Olivier Award for her supporting role in the Donmar’s production of Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812 and solidified herself as one of theatre’s shiniest stars. Her return now to her own play might come with a heightened status, but this evolved version retains all the raw, devastating power of its first outing.

It begins in a rehearsal room, with a band preparing to play before the lights go down. Surrounded by a collection of guitars and microphones, Memon enters as Ria and performs as if recording her songs one by one. With each track, we are drawn further into Ria’s world: she drives down from her hometown of Lancashire to begin a new life in London, hustling her way through pub gigs and sky-high rent while dreaming of becoming a musician. Soon enough, though, the once happily single Ria locks eyes with Daniel, and romance blooms almost uncontrollably.

But this is no simple love story. Instead, Memon’s gorgeous folk-inspired tunes trace a roller coaster of highs and lows. From the early, chirpier numbers comes a much darker turn. At first, Daniel can’t sleep. Then he disappears for two months. Finally, after he returns to her doorstep to confess his love, it is revealed that he has bipolar disorder. Ria makes it her mission to look after him the best she can.

But her dedication has its own mental toll. Switching between big, blow-out songs and confessional speech, Kirsty Patrick Ward’s production gradually pulls Ria apart too. Her role as a caregiver morphs into co-dependence and desperation. Still, she continually pushes her own needs aside; her only concern is keeping Daniel alive. When she finally joins the dots, the stage opens out in a burst of colour and revelation. “Someone else’s trauma can be traumatising,” she concedes.

Throughout it all, her father’s absence is a constant weight. She brushes past questions about him, yet longs for him to pick up her calls. Although we only hear snippets of their history, his illness and its manifestation in her childhood shape Ria’s every step.

Mental illness here ripples across generations, strains familial and romantic relationships, and drowns out the joys of life. Already, it is a topic rich with feeling. But in Memon’s liquid-gold singing voice, the emotional beats almost pierce your skin. Every note sounds entirely effortless. And with such aching honesty in her score, Memon lays herself completely bare.

By the end, tears roll down her cheeks (and probably half the audience’s, for that matter). Memon is a performer of astonishingly varied and endless talents. Her name is not going anywhere.

Manic Street Creature is at the Kiln Theatre to 28 March. Book Manic Street Creature tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk

Photo credit: Manic Street Creature (Photos by Johan Persson)