On the 19th of October 2024, I went down to London to attend a performance of Nassim Soleimanpour’s White Rabbit, Red Rabbit in @sohoplace. I was intrigued by the play’s premise in which each performance sees a different actor reading the script for the very first time on stage. I was attending the performance of one Callum Scott Howells, a personal favourite actor of mine whom I adored in Russel T Davies’s brilliant series It’s A Sin, so to say I was looking forward to the evening would be a criminal understatement. I’m delighted to say that my excitement was vindicated.
White Rabbit, Red Rabbit sees the performer give a cold read of a script which oscillates between different forms throughout the show. It is generally a monologue wherein the actor relays Soleimanpour’s reflections on life, occasionally dipping into a more conventional script structure, or even sets of instructions which the performer, as well as select audience members, are expected to carry out. This eclectic format is incredibly engaging in practice. You’re taken on an odd journey wherein each turn is unexpected but holistically coherent. The tone of the show is also carefully considered, such that my audience went from near-constant laughter and applause to rapt silence as the show went on—and this change never felt jarring. The show thoughtfully engages with its multifaceted nature in a way that makes it utterly enrapturing and enjoyable from beginning to end.
In particular, I want to highlight how well the show sticks with you. Near the end of the performance, Soleimanpour invites the performer to sit on the stage and think about their experience after the audience has left. When I saw Callum Scott Howells at the stage door after the show, I overheard him tell other attendees that he had followed Soleimanpour’s request for as long as the staff would let him. I understand that completely, since the show has been constantly rattling around in my mind too. It’s not that it introduces particularly novel ideas; rather, it highlights and frames its ideas so creatively that you’re compelled to ponder them afterwards. The way that the format and script openly invite us to interrogate the nature of performance as well as the tripartite relationship between writers, actors, and audiences provides plenty of food for thought in an effective and gripping way.
Before I went to see White Rabbit, Red Rabbit, I spoke with a flatmate who asked, based on the premise of the show, if it was a comedy. I wasn’t quite sure, but I had received a list of content warnings beforehand, so I assumed it would be heavy and dramatic. After seeing the show, I think both of us were half-right. White Rabbit, Red Rabbit is fully aware of the implications of its form—including the comedy of unpreparedness, the second-hand embarrassment of audience participation, and the need to capture the audience’s attention right away so that heavier later content lands properly—and Nassim Soleimanpour masterfully navigates and utilises these to create a unique and powerful experience. While the show’s run at @sohoplace is unfortunately now over, I highly recommend that you keep an eye out for more runs in the future, because the experience I had in the audience of this show is one I will never forget— and I can only hope will be shared by as many people as possible.