The White Chip at Southwark Playhouse – A Funny, Fierce & Deeply Moving Triumph

Sarah
11 minutes ago
3 min read

★★★★★

A man standing holding the Book Of Mormon, whilst a woman throws confetti over him and a man looks on — Ashlee Irish, Ed Coleman, Mara Allen Photo by Danny Kaan

There’s a moment about ten minutes into The White Chip at Southwark Playhouse where you realise you’re not just watching a play—you’re witnessing a man lay his soul bare in the most honest, captivating and unexpectedly funny way imaginable. It’s theatre at its most alive. And it deserves every one of its five stars.

Based on playwright Sean Daniels’ own journey through addiction and recovery, this UK premiere—led by the mesmerising Ed Coleman—takes us on a whirlwind tour through the life of Steven, a successful theatre director whose carefully constructed world is quietly collapsing under the weight of alcoholism. Coleman isn’t just telling us the story—he’s confiding in us. From the get-go, he looks you in the eye and brings you with him, whether he's reliving awkward AA meetings or acting out the brain chemistry of a binge.

And yes, you read that right. One of the most unexpectedly powerful parts of this play is the science. Coleman switches seamlessly from heart-wrenching confessions to explaining how alcohol hijacks the brain’s reward system. But this is no PowerPoint lecture—it’s performed with such clarity, physicality and even humour, you feel the science rather than hear it. It’s especially potent for secular audience members; Steven, a lapsed Mormon, struggles with the spiritual “higher power” at the heart of Alcoholics Anonymous. It’s only when some Jewish AA members reframe recovery through a scientific lens that things finally begin to click. For anyone who’s ever questioned the role of faith in healing, this show offers another way through.

What makes this all the more powerful is how present and reactive Coleman is. He doesn’t just deliver a monologue—he’s also subtly stage-managing the piece: cueing lighting changes, directing sound, shaping the set as he goes. We watch the mechanics unfold in real time, which somehow makes it feel even more human. This isn’t polished perfection—it’s messy, immediate, real. And it’s utterly compelling.

He’s flanked by two brilliant actors—Mara Allen and Ashlee Irish—who play every other character Steven encounters, from his long-suffering parents, his wife, to his therapist and to fellow AA group members. They shift roles with ease and razor-sharp timing, helping to create a fast-paced, emotionally rich world with just a handful of props and chairs.

Directed with purpose and heart by Matt Ryan, and brought to life with Lee Newby’s simple yet evocative set, Jamie Platt’s clever lighting, and Max Pappenheim’s razor-sharp sound design, The White Chip is both laugh-out-loud funny and quietly devastating. One moment you’re chuckling at the absurdity of certain rehab centres, the next you’re choking up as Steven admits just how much he’s lost. It’s a delicate dance, but the show pulls it off with grace.

This is storytelling with humour, heart and hard-won hope. And perhaps the most sobering thing? It leaves you questioning your own relationship with alcohol, whether you're a casual drinker, a social regular, or somewhere in between.

If you're after a night of theatre that’s equal parts funny, fearless, and genuinely life-affirming, The White Chip is the ticket. Go. Watch. Reflect. And maybe skip the bar afterwards.