Lawlessness and lack of accountability seem, tragically, on the verge of becoming a new American norm, so what better time to re-consider High Noon, the classic 1952 Western that forefronts issues of moral rectitude. Will Kane, the marshal who stays on in his tight-knit New Mexico community to square off against an outlaw whom he sentenced to hanging five years before, possesses a moral propriety akin to the likes of Atticus Finch.

Just weeks after the theatrical version of the cult film Paranormal Activity successfully recreated the original’s nail-shredding fear, A Ghost in Your Ear offers its own distinctive route to transcendental terror. Where Paranormal Activity – directed by Punchdrunk’s Felix Barrett – leans heavily on superb stage illusions, A Ghost in Your Ear, as the title suggests, largely channels its chill factor through soundwaves. 

Lyle Kessler’s 1983 three-hander has embedded itself in the American repertory, attracting a Tony nomination and star casting. Here it was graced with an award-winning turn onstage from Albert Finney, who later starred in a film version. But is it more than an actors’ play?

Egad, what a simply spiffing time is to be had at the Orange Tree just now! Director Tom Littler has taken Sheridan's first play, and (with his associate Rosie Tricks) pruned and honed and moulded it into an even sparkier version of itself. The plot, the satire of manners, are still intact but now Lydia Languish, Jack Absolute, Mrs Malaprop et al inhabit the Bath, not of 1775 but 1927.

If it's possible for snippets from live theatre to play in the mind on a perpetual loop, the London theatre during 2025 offered many such moments that I am (very happily) finding it hard to shake. 

Peace and Goodwill to All Men outside. Inside, on stage at least, there’s not much peace nor goodwill to be had on the horror-filled Saturday afternoon before Christmas. A high-spirited full house is set to spend a couple of hours with spirits of a very different kind. In every sense, it's a shocking contrast.

JB Priestley’s glorious pot shot at marital complacency in pre-First World War Bradford proves to be a tonic at a time of year where, for better or for worse, many people are forced to play happy families. Written in 1938 – seven years before his markedly different An Inspector Calls – it was so successful that it went on to be the first play ever broadcast live on television. 

A leftfield, Tony-winning phenomenon on Broadway, Cole Escola’s comedy comes to London very much living up to the hype. This is a gloriously eccentric, rude, riotous marvel – laugh-out loud and daft as a brush.

While many regard the current White House as a mad house, Escola’s naughty revisionism goes back in time to debunk one of the country’s most genuinely revered presidents. But the chief focus of this breezy 80-minute play is the first lady, Mary Todd Lincoln. 

In a warehouse, Tube trains rumbling below, Noah, his sister Tamara and his (Gentile) girlfriend Maud, live in a disused space, a North London simulacrum of a kibbutz, but with drug dealers at the door, unhinged co-tenants wandering in and out and a Christmas tree in the corner.

If your heart sinks every time a Shakespeare funny-man enters, here comes the RSC to put an unforced grin on your face. Its latest Feste is the real deal: an emcee with true comedic chops, abetted by a rising-star director who understands exactly how to exploit the innate comedy of both the play and its most anarchic spirit.