FringeReview UK 2025

Q.E.D.

The Drayton Arms Theatre

Genre: classical, Comedy, Drama, Fringe Theatre, LGBTQ+ Theatre, New Writing, Short Plays, Theatre

Venue: The Drayton Arms Theatre, Old Brompton Road, London

Festival: FringeReview UK

Low Down

Review

So what on earth is “quod erat demonstrandum,” doing in ancient Athens? Have the Romans taken over yet? Or is someone trying some clever cultural imperialism to piss off their mates when they can’t even spell it? It’s about 320 BC in the middle period of Greek philosophy, and dust has settled on Alexander the Great. So of course you need to light up a cigarette with a couple of flints. Welcome to James Turner’s latest play  Q.E.D. which premieres at the Drayton Arms during the Lambeth Festival directed by Sebastiao Marques Lopes and produced by Chrisanthi Livadiotis till December 6.

So what is in fact being proved? All the great philosophers have gone, but the neo-Platonics haven’t yet emerged though the witty Turner can’t help naming one character Plotinus, a name famous about five centuries later. He knows what he’s doing though and this 55-minute three-hander roars with life and wit, and a certain poignancy that breaks through the carapace of hard-boiling sophistry. Beyond all this a Greek funk music jangles out of Vasco Simoes’ sound and tech, designed by Turner and Livadiotis. Beyond a few props, including two chairs a Greek set of Pan-pipes and bright tote bag with pink bottles, nothing distracts. Marques Lopes keeps pace flowing, though there’s no flurry

Plotinus (Huw Landauer) is reading, or rather composing verse. We get a large bite of it later; it ought to be added Turner is a prize-winning poet (at The Isis, 2023) and knows how to create verse, not craft cod-poems. Landauer plays straight philosopher or indeed poet to a sparky rib-digging friend frenemy or sparring partner he hardly knows well.

What’s drawn them together? Landauer’s performance, a proto-nerdy pedant with a flair for verse which belies his peace-loving, melancholic nature is well-drawn. It’s a part where the bumbling bespectacled have to present flints to strike off others’ brilliance, and Landauer has a gift for letting his very drippiness as Plotinus seep tenderness and sincerity. Plotinus is easily upended, literally as well as figuratively, but despite his mild absurdity, and bluster, one wishes him a better fate than Glaucon. Turner’s suggesting subtly – and the subtext doesn’t need to be explicit – that Plotinus is some kind of Stoic. He’ll need to be.

So Plotinus is rudely interrupted by rich scion Glaucon (Aidan Parsons) an earthy, pragmatic but cute presence; who likes nothing better than to skive the Schools. As it happens they discover the Athens Schools are out that afternoon as the Master (a real one like less-known names Turner has intimated, such as Polemo and Arcesilaus, though this isn’t meant to be precise) has taken himself off: perhaps with someone fetching. Time to buzz off and get supplies in. Plotinus hardly drinks so caveat emptor (there’s intrusive Latin again) but it seems everyone smokes. A fantastical joke with ancient flint-stones that might be nuanced to a genuine ancient intoxicant.

Parsons’ ebullience which doesn’t stop short of snatching the protesting Plotinus’ verse, is certainly a foil. Glaucon though can sound depths too in Parsons’ shaded performance. It transpires that despite the rich dilletante studying the equivalent of PPE at Oxford (civilisation’s 3,000-year apex of the Mickey Mouse degree) he can wield QED Latin like a weapon of mass distraction. Glaucon’s an Epicurean (and Plotinus might qualify, it wasn’t all fun) who might believe in sensual temperance; but overall he’s a sensual straight guy with more than a quick wit. His rich father is an embarrassment. But Glaucon has noticed a young woman, just what Plotinus chides him for.

It’s what star pupil Andreios might find appalling (Alice Hope Wilson, who also plays the fleeting Aristion). But do they? And is Andreios  the object of both the others’ attention, for slightly different reasons that might up end up the same? Wilson, abetted by an obvious falsie beard – goat-hair they might claim – can quote Protagoras: “man is the measure of all things”; then put it to the question.

However, no philosophic questions are probed in this comedy. Just why people take up philosophic positions in the first place. In this, Wilson in a confident inhabiting of a parodically comedic role is the most sceptical of all, despite their unrivalled fluency. They imitate the Master and others uproariously, including Glaucon’s father, going too far even for him. There’s something disturbing about Andreio.

Navigating with some tenderness Plotinus’ infatuation, Andreios then has to both parry Glaucon’s jibes, yet turn on what’s serious in him; for very good reason. How this tale of love amongst the philosophers ends turns on a clutch of goats’ hairs.

Questions of why women aren’t allowed in to the schools emerges. Primarily though this is a world where finishing school meets serious world-changing investigation. And finishing school might win. Wilson has morphed from actor to props and puppet maker, but on this showing, they’ve a deal more to give as actor too: deft understatement, a certain tough delicacy and fine mimicry.

Duetting and trio ensemble are nearly alternated, a mild riot of sexual confusion and a glow at the end mark this witty, often riotous play. It’s not reached its final form; minor details might be finessed. Highly recommended for a summer night out of the winter rain.

Producer Chrisanthi Livadiotis, Technical Lighting and sound Vasco Simoes

Published December 4, 2025 by Simon Jenner