Kym Marsh’s Hedy clasps Lisa Faulkner’s Allie in Rebecca Reid’s stage adaptation of A Single White Female. Picture: Chris Bishop
HERE comes Single White Female at the double.
Journalist, author and writer Rebecca Reid’s new stage adaptation is not so much a doppelganger, in the style of Hedra’s identity thief, but a new spin on Swiss director Barbet Schroeder’s 1992 film and John Lutz’s 1990 source novel, SWF Seeks Same. One, however, still equipped with stilettos and a nerve-shredding elevator.
Correction, it is not an elevator, but a malfunctioning, screeching lift, as Reid has switched the location from Nineties’ New York apartment to an Elephant and Castle tower-block flat with dodgy lighting and electrics in the invasive social-media age of 2026 London.
No stranger to the kitchen from her 2010 Celebrity MasterChef victory, cookery books and YouTube channel with husband chef John Torode, Lisa Faulkner returns to the stage after a 21-year hiatus and finds herself standing behind the island on Morgan Large’s open-plan set.
Lisa Faulkner in her first stage role in 21 years as London divorced mum and tech start-up boss Allie in Single White Female. Picture: Chris Bishop
Two doors lead to neighbouring bedrooms, a third to the lift, and, out of view, is the doorway to Faulkner’s divorced mum Allie’s bedroom. A glass panel gives views of a less-than-beautiful London skyline.
Large’s rectangular design is framed by Jason Taylor’s lighting, sparking on and off in blues and reds that pick out the eerie shape of a children’s cot above, accompanied by a child’s cries and echoing screams.
The misbehaving electrics, lift and lighting are matched at the outset by gremlins in Max Pappenheim’s sound design that thankfully dissipate as Monday’s press night progresses. The overall effect is deliberately unnerving, whether screeches, clunks, cries or sparks spitting from plugs, complemented by amusingly discordant slabs of musical discharge (even an instrumental segment from Radiohead’s Creep).
Single White Female’s Allie and Hedy (Kym Marsh) are no longer in their late 20s/early 30s. Allie has a 15-year-old daughter, surly Bella (Amy Snudden), who is starting at a new school, and already consigned to the role of bullied misfit, after tech start-up boss Allie is found a new home by business partner Graham (Andro) in his tower block.
Amy Snudden’s troubled teenager Bella and Lisa Faulkner’s mum Allie in Single White Female. Picture: Chris Bishop
To make ends meet, Allie advertises for a flatmate (on social media of course). Fashion photographer Hedy replies, moves in and takes over the cooking, building bonds with Bella. Graham, buoyed by acquiring a new boyfriend through Grinder, keeps popping in, as does Allie’s “reformed” alcoholic ex-husband Sam (Jonny McGarrity), whose bond with daughter Bella remains strong, even if access is restricted.
Piece by piece, flash of light by flash of light, we learn of Hedy’s past, her loss of a child, spoiler alert, to cot death, and so Marsh portrays a more complex character than either Jennifer Jason Leigh’s film portrayal or indeed Marsh’s more openly villainous Cruella De Vil on her last visit to the Grand Opera House in 101 Dalmatians The Musical in November 2024.
Manipulation of social media and mobile phones is now Hedy’s weapon of choice, whether impersonating Allie on phone calls to the errant Bella’s school, tampering with Graham’s Grinder account or using her photographic training to help Bella to send a compromising A1-doctored post.
Reid’s script is snappy, witty, darkly humorous, surprising, suspenseful and up with the zeitgeist. If you have never heard the expression “situationship” before, as playground argot for “relationship”, you will here.
Seeing double: Jonny McGarrity’s Sam encounters Kym Marsh’s blonde Hedy in Allie’s dress in Single White Female. Picture: Chris Bishop
Reid riffs on Schroeder’s film, but makes those tropes her own, whether the startling lift noises, or the notorious stiletto when Marsh’s Hedy gives Sam a right eyeful as director Gordon Greenberg turns up the schlock horror without reaching for the histrionics.
Marsh, fresh from her tyrannical Beverley in Mike Leigh’s Abigail’s Party at Manchester’s Royal Academy, is terrific and, yes, ultimately terrifying as Hedy, never resorting to melodrama, but calculated, desperate and consumed by grief, jealousy and finally uncontrolled rage.
In a parallel story arc, the equally impressive Sneddon’s troubled teenager descends into her own darkness with terrible consequences, warped by the machinations of electronic messaging and bullying.
Faulkner’s enervated Allie, Andro’s amenable Graham and McGarrity’s pliable Sam all contribute to the rising tide of tension emanating from Greenberg and Reid’s stylish, steely, stiletto-sharp psychological thriller. Book now, but don’t wear stilettos.
Single White Female, Grand Opera House, York, until Saturday, 7.30pm plus 2.30pm Saturday matinee. Box office: atgtickets.com/york.
Lisa Faulkner’s tech company boss Allie and Andro’s business partner Graham in a nerve-shredding moment in Single White Female. Picture: Chris Bishop
