The Grim at Southwark Playhouse – A Dark Comedy with Plenty of Potential

Deborah Tarrant
14 minutes ago
2 min read

⭐⭐⭐½

A Night of Comedy, Chaos and the Supernatural

I headed to Southwark Playhouse Borough for The Grim, curious to see how this horror-comedy hybrid would play out. With its reputation for sharp dialogue and spirited performances, I was expecting something quirky—and that’s absolutely what the evening delivered, though not always in the ways I thought it would.

A man sits reading a paper on a stainless steel table whilst the other stands nearby — Inside the funeral parlour with Shaun and Robert - Phot credit MOLLY JACKSON-FRENCH

A 1960s Setting That Doesn’t Quite Answer Its Own Questions

The play plants us firmly in 1964, though I must admit I wasn’t completely sure why. The undertakers’ space—from the stainless stell slab to the white shirts, dark trousers and aprons felt timeless. The passing references to Woolworths and those distinctive blue-and-white panda police cars place the production in its chosen decade, but they didn’t feel strictly necessary.

I did find myself wondering whether the era had been selected partly to contextualise certain outdated terms—like “gyppos” and “pikeys”—which stood out rather awkwardly.

The Heart of the Play: Shaun and Robert

Edmund Morris, who also wrote the piece, stars as Shaun, the reluctant and perpetually weary proprietor of the family undertakers. Beside him is Louis Davison as Robert, whose lively blend of religion, superstition, nerves and earnestness brings much of the comedy.

Their relationship is wonderfully lopsided—Shaun just trying to get through the day, Robert constantly fretting over signs, spirits and the state of the world. One of the funniest running jokes revolves around Shaun’s mother still packing his lunches, something he bristles at with just the right level of embarrassment. Their exchanges feel genuinely affectionate, lived-in, funny, and very watchable.

Enter Jackie Gallagher – With a Bang

When notorious criminal Jackie Gallagher, played by Harry Carter, storms into the story, the energy shifts sharply. Carter brings a ferocity and unpredictability that jolts the audience upright. His performance is memorising—violent, brooding and delivered with real presence. It’s one of the standout elements of the evening.

A man standing on a table holing a hammer., her is behind 2 other men, one seated the other standing. The seated man is pointing — Just what is The Grim? Photo credit MOLLY JACKSON-FRENCH

Where the Horror Falls Short

While the comedy lands, the supernatural strand doesn’t quite have room to breathe. The sense of what “The Grim” actually is remains too vague, and the horror arrives abruptly rather than simmering beneath the surface.

As a result, the big line—“I am the Grim”—slides in without the weight it should carry. With a bit more slow-burn tension earlier on, this could have hit far harder.

The interval, too, came surprisingly suddenly. It didn’t feel like the story had built to a natural stopping point.

A Promising Show That Could Become Something Special

Despite these bumps, there’s a lot to enjoy. The performances are strong across the board, the humour is sharp, and the premise has real potential. With some tightening of the horror and a more gradual layering of dread, The Grim could evolve into a standout production.

For now, it’s three and a half stars from me—but I can genuinely see this show developing beautifully as the run goes on.