Broken Legs Blog

“Pacey and punchy with glimpses of something more profound”

A trail of polaroid photos paves the way to Nottingham Playhouse’s Neville Studio, where we are greeted by Abby Clarke’s stunning set design, a blank white canvas adorned with hundreds of photos covering the wall and floor, each providing a little snapshot of Jess and Billy’s lives together. And that is exactly what this play is, brief scenes that whizz through the friendship of the two Gen Xers, almost as though we are flicking through a photo album, seeing different memories brought to life. What makes the play even more special is that it is set in and around Nottingham, with writer Jane Upton peppering the script with local references that are bound to resonate with Playhouse audiences. The play is, however, a little too on-the-nose with some points, and occasionally gets lost amidst too many themes. Thankfully it is all held together by the immense talents of Katie Redford and Benedict Salter, who create characters that age and grow before the audience’s eyes in a superb demonstration of intricate characterisation.

We begin in 1992, with 12 year old Jess and Billy preparing to perform a play for their parents, Jess taking charge and acting as director, Billy getting a bit too enthusiastic as he tries to imitate Alan Rickman. It is all wonderfully silly and yet incredibly realistic, immediately transporting us back to our own childhoods – I’m sure my mum remembers many times that my friends and I made her sit through hastily put together “shows” in our living room. Jess and Billy immediately feel like people we can connect with, and quickly we are propelled into 1995, both teenagers now preparing for a school show instead of a homemade one. Upton’s script is excellent at capturing authentic voices, as the teens drift off on random tangents about various escapades of their classmates, which often draws laughs. The observational comedy here is carefully constructed – not distracting from the serious teenage melodramas that drive these early scenes, but providing lots of light relief. These early scenes are, at times, very funny.

As Jess and Billy age, the comedy also falls away, and more serious themes take its place. Their various situations become a little harder to relate to, and we lose the glow of reminiscence that infests those early scenes. It means that both Redford and Salter have to work just that little bit harder to keep the audience with them. Redford manages this through sheer warmth and down-to-earth outlook – whilst Billy parties with celebrities in London, Jess feels more relatable, holding down a full-time job, attempting to settle down in a relationship, building up the courage to audition for an amateur drama society. The play focuses solely on Jess and Billy’s friendship – we never see them when they are alone or not interacting in some way. It means the only things we learn about Jess are the things she chooses to tell Billy, and the result is that we only see half the story. When Jess talks to Billy, there is a certain jealousy, a longing for the sort of lifestyle that Billy leads.

As Billy becomes more and more integral to the London theatre scene, he becomes increasingly standoffish towards Jess. She serves as a reminder of an unhappy childhood, and he is frequently condescending towards her. The friendship between the two of them becomes toxic. There is nothing soft or cajoling in Salter’s putdowns – the disdain towards his friend feels genuine, his brusque dismissals of Jess’s achievements almost a gut punch to an audience that so far has been invested in their friendship. It is why, when we never see a significant moment of reconciliation, we feel cheated. The next scene sees Jess attending Billy’s stag do, and then Billy visiting Jess following the birth of her first child. Suddenly they are closer than ever – it feels as though we have missed something.

This is, of course, the central conceit of the show, we are only seeing scenes from their friendship, not the entire story. Sometimes this can be fun – trying to fill in the blanks and piece together what has happened since we last dropped in on the pair. But it is odd that the majority of the scenes Upton chooses to present are scenes where Jess and Billy are often not very nice to each other. The middle section of this 90 minute play features very few scenes where Jess and Billy regress into their silly teenage selves, where they set aside their different points of view and just enjoy each other’s company. They seem to despise each other and one wonders why they even bother keeping in touch. And suddenly, the final section arrives, heavy themes are introduced and the plot requires both to be best mates again, and we never see any form of growth in their relationship. We jump from point A to point B with no clear trajectory in between. It feels disjointed, and means we struggle to connect emotionally at the climax of the play.

Talking of heavy themes, this is a play that doesn’t ever really seem to know what message it is trying to portray. The start focuses heavily on themes surrounding sexuality, and coming out, and gradually we move past that as the characters grow older and learn more about themselves. This part is handled well, and feels like it naturally lends itself to the idea of disparate ‘scenes’. But the latter half of the play throws so many ideas into the mix that they can’t possibly have any sort of emotional impact – one minute the play is about adoption, then surrogacy, then disability, then mental health. Of course, across a lifetime, people can experience all of these things. But to cram it all into a one-act play makes the narrative too crowded. Redford and Salter try their best to make the emotional climax land, but it all feels a bit forced, the scenes crumbling around a groundwork that hasn’t been properly laid.

Under Hannah Stone’s direction, the play is pacey and punchy with glimpses of something more profound. It excels in making small nostalgic references, whilst the characters use a myriad of different technologies that reflect the passage of time (disposable cameras become flip phones and then smart phones) and the smattering of pop culture references will resonate with anyone who grew up in the 90s and 00s. Jess and Billy are an enjoyable pair to spend an evening (or 30 years) with, but whether Upton ever succeeds in making the points she wants to remain to be seen. For me, I was left smiling at the James Blunt reference but feeling particularly empty regarding the deeper themes at play.

Tom Morley, May 2026

For more information on how I decide on star ratings, see here: Star ratings – Broken Legs Blog

Review Round-up:

Elemental Theatre: Scenes from a friendship – 4* from Elemental Theatre, who say the show is “packed with laughter, awkward tenderness, and the kind of emotional honesty that catches audiences off guard”

East Midlands Theatre: Scenes from a friendship – 5* from East Midlands Theatre which commends the “faultless and naturalistic acting, excellent direction [and] cracking stage storytelling”

WhatsOnStage: Scenes from a friendship – 4* from Amarjeet writing for WoS, who calls this “a moving exploration of memory, identity, and the remarkable way one person can know and love you for all that you are”