by Sarah Becker
Sparking conversations, stories and anecdotes after the 90-minute show, people seemed to fall into two camps.
For parents, new mother’s Margot’s monologue (performed with intensity by Kerry Lovell) lands as a reflection on how parenthood reshapes your whole being — turning you into someone sleep deprived, constantly alert listening out for your child. It captures the all-consuming nature of caring for a young child.
In contrast, Jacade Simpson as a singleton, offers a different perspective — one of freedom and independence. His reflections on a child-free life — sleeping in, making spontaneous choices, living without constraint — resonate more for those not yet in that stage of life.
Party Season, created by the Wardrobe Ensemble and co-directed by Jesse Jones and Helena Seneca, is a lively and chaotic comedy that dives headfirst into the world of parenthood in the modern age— with all its joys, anxieties, and social minefields.
Set around a series of children’s parties, the play explores the transition into parenthood and the identities people gain — or lose — along the way.
One of the intentions of Party Season was for audience members to recognise something of themselves — whether as a parent, a child, or somewhere in between — in the characters on stage. It’s fair to say that the show somewhat succeeds on this level in terms of capturing snapshots of parental moments.
The character work is for me a double-edged sword. From the hyper-competitive Celia (Jesse Meadows) who refuses to accept that her child hasn’t won the party games, to the passive-aggressive dynamics of the parents’ WhatsApp group, the show is filled with recognisable social types.
These characters feel almost drawn from modern digital culture, echoing the kinds of personalities seen in viral comedy sketches and online satire — think character actress and TikTok sensation Monica Geldart, who devises comic skits around a fictional mum of Maisie on Instagram.
I liked the contrast between the over-bearing party zealot Celia (Jesse Meadows) and the over-whelmed dad Xander (Tom England). James Newton as the party entertainer/DJ and child also gave some genuinely funny moments in his double roles.
Staging wise the I liked the fact that you had to work at making sense of the production. This wasn’t a show handed to you on a plate. From the pared-back set — minimal staging invites the audience to use their imagination — the effect is that your brain scrambles around for memories of parties you’ve attended.
It also leans into facets of our modern world. Characters appearing from colour-coded doors represent social icons messaging within the infamous parents’ WhatsApp group.
Stylistically, the production is energetic and demanding. Actors frequently double up as multiple characters, switching roles rapidly as they move between scenes. This creates a sense of constant motion and chaos, mirroring the unpredictability of children’s parties themselves. However, it does require the audience to stay alert — at times, the pace means that if you lose focus, you risk losing track of the narrative.
This becomes more noticeable in the second half. While the first part feels tightly constructed and full of sharp observations, the latter section becomes slightly harder to follow. A subplot involving Xander, a drunken message sent to the WhatsApp group, and the fallout that follows feels less clearly developed. As a result, the narrative loses some of its momentum, and it becomes harder to fully engage with the unfolding drama.
Mirroring the high intensity swipe-right culture we seem to be living in, it makes me yearn sometimes for complex, character-driven, slow-unfolding drama though. While Party Season thrives on energy, immediacy and recognisable snapshots, part of me is left wanting to sit longer with these characters — to dig beneath the surface of the archetypes and watch something more gradual emerge.
That said, there’s no denying the production’s sharp eye for modern social dynamics and its ability to spark recognition and conversation. It’s a lively, inventive piece that captures the chaos and comedy of parenthood in a way that feels both current and relatable. Even if it doesn’t fully satisfy that desire for deeper narrative immersion, it succeeds in doing exactly what it sets out to do — holding up a mirror to the messy, funny, and sometimes overwhelming reality of modern life.
Party Season runs at the Royal & Derngate until Saturday April 11th. For tickets visit: https://royalandderngate.co.uk/