Review: CRUSH by Hannah Eggleton

Teenagers are strange creatures. I don’t know about you, but I was certainly a bit of an awkward, insecure mess in school. That turbulent, in-between phase of adolescence forms the heart of CRUSH – Hannah Eggleton’s debut full-length play. Set against the familiar backdrop of classrooms, homework and extracurriculars, the play captures the volatility of teenage emotion, packaging desire, angst and confusion into one riveting tale.

The premise is simple but effective. A group of students from St Margaret’s School for Girls is preparing to put on a production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream alongside a boys’ school, under the direction of their bright-eyed English teacher, Ms Evans (Georgina Cooper). Annie (Juliet Taub), earnest and excitable, finds herself nursing a burgeoning crush on Ms Evans. When Ms Evans opens applications for the role of assistant director, Annie leaps at the opportunity, eager to work with Ms Evans more closely. Jo (Hannah Eggleton), Annie’s best friend, is the more level-headed of the two, always bringing Annie back down to earth. The duo introduce us to Mary (Sasha Ivanova), the sullen new girl who hardly participates in class. When Ms Evans hands the coveted role of assistant director to Mary, the shock sends Annie spiraling. With each rehearsal, Annie grows increasingly jealous, suspicious and obsessed, convinced that something untoward is happening between Mary and Ms Evans.

Eggleton’s writing is brilliant, spirited, and thoroughly entertaining.

Eggleton’s writing is brilliant, spirited, and thoroughly entertaining. The first half is delightfully silly – full of schoolroom clichés, teenage gossip and one-liners that can only be described as comedy gold. The dialogue feels natural; the pacing is brisk but just right. There is never a dull moment in the play. Annie and Jo often address the audience directly, breaking the fourth wall to share confidences and commentary that create a vibrant dual world – one grounded in classrooms, the other in the characters’ inner lives. Fantasy and daydream bleed into the everyday. It’s immersive and theatrical in all the right ways.

The show boasted a stellar cast, with Juliet Taub giving a captivating performance as Annie. She nails the twitchy energy of a student desperate to impress; a well-meaning goody-two-shoes who is mildly insufferable. Taub’s ability to switch moods on a dime – smiling, then aggressive (in her imagination), then smiling and nervous again – is impressive. Eggleton, stepping in last-minute as Jo, proves to be just as skilled an actor as she is a writer. As Jo, she is brisk, sardonic, yet deeply loyal. She may make witty quips at Annie, but you know she has her back. Together, the pair have a rhythmic, playful chemistry; Jo’s grounded delivery serves as the perfect foil to Annie’s jumpy behaviour, and their scenes together fizzle with energy.

Georgina Cooper is effortlessly convincing as Ms Evans, exuding that magnetic blend of idealism and enthusiasm that so many well-loved teachers have. She is unwavering in her optimism, sincerely abiding by her mission to instil a love for Shakespeare within every student under her charge. Her honeyed tone could have easily turned cartoonish, but her character always felt entirely real.

Mary, by contrast, says little – but Sasha Ivanova speaks volumes even in silence. Her spoken lines are delivered bluntly, but her performance during quiet moments is subtle and deeply affecting. In one stirring scene, as Ms Evans tests the lighting, a lone spotlight catches Mary crouched on stage, looking out towards the back of the darkened theatre. In the stillness, Ivanova’s expressions flit between detachment, sorrow and pain, and we suddenly feel the full weight of the burden Mary has been carrying. It’s a rare moment that allows us to focus on Mary without all the noise, and it lingers long after the lights go down.

Taub’s ability to switch moods on a dime – smiling, then aggressive (in her imagination), then smiling and nervous again – is impressive.

Edith Matthewson and Alex Rawnsley round out the ensemble with stand-out comedic brilliance in a medley of minor roles, including allergy-prone schoolboys and odd adults. Their physicality and comedic timing must be commended. Rawnsley showed impressive versatility, playing the role of an eccentric music teacher, and later on, Mary’s mysterious mother.

The technical elements of the production are equally accomplished. Lighting and sound design are thoughtful and stylish. Pink hues illuminate Annie’s dream-like, fantasy sequences involving Ms Evans, and sharp red heats up the stage when Annie sinks into anger and confusion. A piercing, high-pitched ring accompanies Annie’s most anxious spirals, recreating that sensation of emotional turmoil within us. There are some creative moments of lighting, such as the use of house lights to transform the North Wall Theatre into Shakespeare’s Globe. The scene transitions are smooth and effective – six plastic chairs, a whiteboard and a long table are used to great effect, arranged in different configurations to create various settings. I particularly enjoyed the use of the whiteboard as a sign-up sheet, where characters who wished to audition for Dream had their names written down in various styles of handwriting.

The final moments with Mary and Annie on stage are quiet, aching and deeply sombre. Annie’s trembling, final lines leave the theatre in stunned silence.

In the second half, Jo has stopped addressing the audience, leaving Annie alone as narrator. The most consequential parts of the plot unfold only through Annie’s perspective, making us question her reliability as narrator, destabilising our trust in her version of events. Annie’s constant suspicion of Mary drives a wedge between her and Jo, who has begun to befriend the new girl. The tension culminates in a climactic confrontation on the night of the performance, when Annie accuses Ms Evans and Mary of being romantically involved – a serious accusation and a horrible misunderstanding.

When the truth comes to light, it is striking and dramatic. Near the end, all the characters emerge on stage, each delivering a short line in quick succession to create a cohesive narrative. Some lines echo past moments; the same words are repeated in a new context, acquiring a different meaning. It’s haunting, impactful, and clever. The final moments with Mary and Annie on stage are quiet, aching and deeply sombre. Annie’s trembling, final lines leave the theatre in stunned silence.

CRUSH was one of the most professional, impressive pieces of student theatre I have seen here at Oxford. Eggleton has created something special – a world that is intimately familiar, rich with emotional insight and wonderfully original. This is the kind of debut that leaves you excited to see what comes next.

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