Single White Female

The Alexandra Theatre

Birmingham

At The Alexandra Theatre, a venue long associated with touring drama and polished commercial productions, Single White Female arrives with a sense of anticipation that rests squarely on its leading duo. This new stage adaptation of the cult 1990s psychological thriller attempts to translate cinematic paranoia into live theatre, and while the results are occasionally uneven, the central performances from Kym Marsh and Lisa Faulkner give the production its pulse, its tension, and ultimately its reason to be seen.

The story itself is familiar, a recently divorced woman, Allie, opens her home to a lodger, Hedy, only for the arrangement to spiral into obsession and psychological warfare. In this updated version, adapted by Rebecca Reid, the narrative is firmly relocated into the modern world of social media, online personas, and digital dependency. This shift is both the production’s strength and its weakness. On one hand, it adds immediacy, grounding the story in anxieties audiences recognise; identity theft, curated lives, and emotional isolation. On the other, it occasionally feels over-insistent, as if the script is eager to remind us of its contemporary relevance rather than letting the drama emerge organically.

What anchors the piece, however, is the interplay between its two leading women. Lisa Faulkner’s Allie is drawn with a careful balance of resilience and fragility. She is not a passive victim but a woman stretched thin, by financial strain, motherhood, and the lingering emotional debris of a failed relationship. Faulkner brings a naturalistic ease to the role, allowing the audience to connect quickly with her predicament. There is a warmth in her performance that makes her gradual unravelling all the more affecting. She captures the quiet panic of someone who senses something is wrong but cannot yet articulate it, and this restraint proves far more effective than melodrama.

Opposite her, Kym Marsh’s Hedy is a study in controlled volatility. From her first entrance, Marsh resists the temptation to play the character as overtly sinister. Instead, she leans into charm; slightly awkward, slightly intense, but entirely plausible. It is this initial normality that makes the character’s descent so compelling. As the play progresses, Marsh introduces subtle shifts, a glance held too long, a tone that sharpens almost imperceptibly, a mimicry that becomes unsettling. Critics of the production elsewhere have noted that her performance occasionally edges towards heightened theatricality, but in the intimate space of a psychological thriller, that excess can feel oddly appropriate, even thrilling.

The chemistry between the two leads is the production’s greatest asset. Their scenes together crackle with an undercurrent of tension that never fully dissipates. Even in moments of apparent calm, there is a sense that something is being negotiated beneath the surface…power, control, identity. This dynamic mirrors the play’s central theme, the blurring of boundaries between self and other. Hedy does not simply intrude into Allie’s life; she begins to replicate it, distort it, and ultimately attempt to replace it.

Supporting performances, while solid, inevitably orbit around this central relationship. The addition of Allie’s teenage daughter, Bella, is a notable change from earlier versions of the story and serves to heighten the stakes. It introduces a generational perspective on vulnerability, particularly in relation to social media, and provides moments of emotional contrast. Reviews of the production have highlighted how this element deepens the narrative, giving Allie something tangible to fight for beyond her own survival.

From a technical standpoint, the production embraces a minimalist yet effective design. The set, largely confined to Allie’s apartment creates a sense of claustrophobia that suits the material. Lighting and sound play a crucial role in shaping the atmosphere; flickers of darkness, sudden bursts of noise, and subtle visual distortions all contribute to an environment that feels increasingly unstable. At times, these effects verge on the heavy-handed, but they undeniably succeed in keeping the audience on edge. The use of lighting to punctuate transitions and signal shifts in reality is particularly effective, echoing the fractured psychological landscape of the characters.

Yet for all its strengths, the production is not without its flaws. One recurring issue is tone. The script occasionally struggles to maintain a consistent sense of menace, with certain moments eliciting unintended laughter rather than tension. This is perhaps a consequence of translating a film where editing and camera work can control pacing and perspective into a live medium where everything unfolds in real time. Some critics have argued that the direction plays things too safely, missing opportunities to push the psychological intensity further.

Additionally, the modernisation of the story, while conceptually sound, can feel somewhat forced. References to contemporary culture like apps, influencers, lifestyle trends are woven into the dialogue, but not always seamlessly. Instead of enhancing the narrative, they occasionally draw attention to themselves, disrupting the immersion. It raises an interesting question about adaptation…how far should a classic be updated before it loses the qualities that made it resonate in the first place?

Despite these shortcomings, the production succeeds where it matters most, in its ability to engage. There is an undeniable pull to the story, a desire to see how far things will go and how the central conflict will resolve. The pacing, while uneven, generally sustains momentum, building towards a climax that is both shocking and, in some respects, inevitable.

What lingers after the final curtain is not the specifics of the plot but the performances at its core. Marsh and Faulkner elevate the material, finding nuance and emotional truth even when the script falters. Their portrayals transform what could have been a straightforward thriller into a more layered exploration of loneliness, identity, and the human need for connection, however distorted that connection may become.

In the context of Birmingham’s vibrant theatre scene, where touring productions must compete for attention, Single White Female stands as a solid, if not entirely groundbreaking, addition. It may not fully reinvent the genre, but it delivers a compelling evening of theatre driven by two strong central performances.

Ultimately, this is a production that thrives on its leads. Strip away the modern trappings and occasional tonal missteps, and what remains is a gripping duel between two women; one trying to hold her life together, the other quietly, methodically pulling it apart. And in that space between them, the play finds its most unsettling truth, that the line between admiration and obsession is often far thinner than we care to admit.

This production contains scenes involving the use of a firearm, depictions of knives, strong language, and flashing lighting effects that may be distressing or unsuitable for some audience members. Viewer discretion is advised, particularly for those sensitive to violence or strobe lighting.

A ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ production with a ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ performance; Single White Female is currently at The Alexandra Theatre until Saturday 10th May 2026.