SUGA

TNC THEATRE REVIEW | 2026
Housemates Festival 2026: SUGA
Brixton House
1 – 5 Sept | 20:00
Cast
Max Hyner: Harry
Fanta Barrie: Sira
Jon Campling: Daddy
Writer: Max Hyner
Director & Dramaturg: Sean Landis
Image © Courtney Nathan Phillip
Video: Luke Moreau, Sean Landis
Sept, 5, 2026
The best way to understand the changing nature of a city is by questioning the young. For several decades, one of the biggest groups to be affected by the regeneration and gentrification of a city has been young people. Squatting became illegal, club and rave culture started to become commercialised, and a growing influx of transplants has pushed a city like London to its limits. This inevitably starts to change the culture and community of a place, with increased rents and few job opportunities. Adding to this is the cost-of-living crisis, which is perhaps felt more in London. It creates an untenable situation that can leave you desperate. Or, in Harry’s case, force you to try to swim under the current.
Harry, Max Hyner, is in his twenties, a South Londoner, and thought it was a good idea to get a NEXT store card. What sounded like a good plan started to snowball, and the debt grew; as did payment demands. One day his friend, Sira, Fanta Barrie, tells him she got £300 from a guy she met on a website. With the demands for payment increasing further, Harry asks Sira for the name of the website. With some reluctance, and a lot of trepidation, Harry creates a profile, logs on, and meets Daddy, Jon Campling.
The pace is slow at first, but Hyner never shows his hand. There’s an insightful nod to Philip Ridley in Hyner’s text, and in how he allows his story to unfold whilst also holding back and leaving questions unanswered. The chemistry between Barrie, Hyner, and Campling is electric. The palpable energy they’ve forged, guided by their director Sean Landis, means you follow their every word and every action. In Sira, Barrie balances out her rough confidence with a subtle vulnerability. She’s direct and needs to talk to Harry, but she knows she can’t get through to him. This means he doesn’t see her pain because he’s so wrapped up in his own drama. Campling keeps you guessing about Daddy’s intentions. He’s somewhat untrusting but never feels as though he’s being overly exploitative. There is clearly a power imbalance, but by exploring their initial connection and showing how Harry ignores the many warnings from Sira, Hyner allows his audience to gain a deeper understanding of Harry and the spiral he’s on.
The relationship between Harry and Daddy is transactional, but ‘nothing comes of nothing’. Maybe it’s more metaphorical; maybe for Harry, Daddy does become a father figure in some roundabout way. Of all the scenes between Daddy and Harry, it’s the visit to the opera that is the most heartbreaking. The subtlety of this moment: you feel Harry’s like a fish out of water, Daddy’s arm slowly reaching over but not fully touching. Hyner shows, for this brief moment, that Harry seems happy.
There is a lot of meaning in the way Hyner writes that it’s only now, whilst I have the opportunity to sit down and write, that I get a moment to think. It seemed odd that a young man would have chosen to get a NEXT store card; it’s not the hippest place. But what NEXT means to Harry is perhaps connected to his family, to the memories of going shopping with his parents. Much like his use of Cockney rhyming slang, NEXT is Harry’s attempt to hold onto his memories and his identity. The humour in the text, especially the way the messaging is realised and the banter between all three characters, creates a nice balance and wonderfully highlights the lyrical beauty within Hyner's writing.
The journey Hyner takes his audience on isn’t linear, and it plays with the themes of memory, fears, and the need for emotional connection. The confidence we see in Harry at the start is innocent and naive, and Hyner takes his time pulling you into Harry’s world. This is his first trick that lulls his audience into a false sense of security. Harry, with his short blonde hair and semi-cocky London swagger, is lovable, but by the time we meet him, he’s beyond being helped. He holds pain from a past relationship that hasn’t subsided, and likely won’t, leaving him more vulnerable and in need of connection.

His penchant for speaking in pigeon Cockney rhyming slang opens up another avenue of pressure he’s experiencing: the fear of not only losing his home but losing his identity. You only have to say the word Gail’s, and in London particularly, we know what that means. Gail’s is the new Foxton’s; it’s a sign of gentrification. This irreversible change to a local community brings with it higher prices and annoying transplants. I thought it was somewhat apt that Gail’s is being mentioned in this way in Brixton. This change is forcing Harry to panic. Harry’s tendency to refer to his parents using Cockney rhyming slang seems to heighten his fears and puts him in a much more precarious mental situation. This is powerfully explored during an argument when Sira challenges his use of Cockney rhyming slang.
It’s this moment that you start to see how far Harry has gone. Sira is blunt, and perhaps there’s frustration in the way she’s now talking to Harry, who has put on blinkers to his own actions. He can no longer see the damage he’s doing to himself and to his friend. When Sira calls out his use of Cockney rhyming slang, it exposes him.
Maya Heritage’s set is minimal, completely white, with splashes of blue text. The symbolism couldn’t be more apt. The white space offers no real personality or personal touches, which gives way to the idea that we may not actually be in Harry’s apartment. The same can be said of Hazboy’s sound design, which, in parts, is so delicate and subtle, acting like a heartbeat that maintains the tension. From the beginning, Hyner is playing with time and space, manipulating the audience into seeing what they can’t see. He locks his audience so deliberately into Harry’s world that when the twist comes, it actually takes your breath away.
It’s not until Harry’s unwise trip out of the city that the reality of his situation hits you. It was akin to that scene in Requiem for a Dream where Sara Goldfarb runs out of her apartment because she believes the fridge is going to eat her, only for the camera to pan back to a tidy, muted apartment. Tom Hicks lighting design in this scene is perfection; it hurts in an instant as we see how gentle, desperate, and lonely Harry is. You hear Harry’s real voice for the first time; he stands there not as a man but a little boy who needs to be told he will be OK. The scene changes the way we see Harry, and it allows us to appreciate the situation he’s in all the more profoundly.
"From euphoria to desolation, Harry is a broken man, but he was when we first met him; we didn’t see the signs until it was too late."
Now, with fresh perspective, Harry’s white, soulless room takes on a different meaning, as does Lewis MacKinnon’s role as Crew. It wasn’t until the penny dropped that I understood how significant MacKinnon’s role was. From euphoria to desolation, Harry is a broken man, but he was when we first met him; we didn’t see the signs until it was too late. Hyner’s ability to establish a role reversal in this way is commendable. It’s not an easy thing for an actor to do with authenticity, yet as Harry lies on his bed, his voice softer and somewhat withdrawn, the man we see now is not the man we’ve known. It’s hard not to appreciate the significance of the number on Harry’s door, 666, which further adds to Hyner’s ability to introduce multiple meanings behind the things he wants his audience to see.
As SUGA comes to an end and the stage goes black, I am immediately drawn to Joan Armatrading’s Save Me. In particular, this verse: Intimacy and affection frozen
In this game of chance, I forfeit. In his white room, surrounded by his memories, Harry is a young man who needs to be saved.
SUGA is a masterclass in theatre. This only happens when all the elements are aligned in a way that genuinely leaves no room for mistakes. Landis’s direction is sympathetic, respectful, and brave. As dramaturg, the connection he’s forged with Hyner has allowed them to push the boundaries of what they can achieve, while also bringing a complex piece of new writing to the stage.
