The Candidates - Review

From the moment the audience takes their seats, The Candidates makes its intentions clear. This is not simply a play about politics, but about the performance of politics. The stage is dressed as a televised by-election debate following the resignation of a Labour MP in a marginal seat, immediately immersing the audience in the rituals, tensions, and artifice of modern British democracy.

Produced by the University of Manchester Drama Society and written by Harry Petts, the play peers behind the podium to expose the games being played when power, image, and media collide.

What unfolds is very much the story behind the story. Rather than focusing on policy, The Candidates interrogates the dynamics between political parties and the press, positioning the media as the true main character of contemporary politics. Journalists and broadcasters do not simply report events here; they shape them, control the narrative, and decide which voices are amplified or sidelined. 

Notably absent are the Conservatives, yet their presence is felt throughout. Their ideology lives on through the Labour and Reform candidates, blurring supposed ideological divides and suggesting how deeply entrenched certain political instincts have become. This choice sharpens the satire and reinforces the play’s argument that party labels matter far less than the structures that sustain power.

Joe Noble delivers a sharp performance as debate host Brett Emery Sabbath Darling, a name that perfectly encapsulates the polished, Oxbridge-bred media figure he represents. Noble captures the entitlement and faux neutrality of a broadcaster who believes himself above politics while actively shaping it. As the face of the debate, he embodies the illusion of impartiality that state broadcasting often claims, but rarely achieves.

That illusion is further explored through Daniel Baffoe’s Danny, the showrunner caught between professional detachment and moral reckoning. Baffoe plays him as a man visibly shaken by the wheeling and dealing unfolding around him, trapped by the expectations of neutrality while slowly realising the extent of the media’s complicity.

Joe Moore’s Laboure candidate Steven Ollenshaw is a masterclass in political pastiche. He nails the centrist politician whose language, performance and polish slides effortlessly between the Cameron and Blair era politician, all while saying very little of substance. 

Ruby Coyte’s Verity Bateman, the Reform candidate, is drawn with precision. She is the sort of country set conservative who has quietly replaced a Thatcher poster with one of Farage, carrying forward the same instincts under a different banner.

As the Green Party candidate, Hattie Wood’s Elle Pritchard initially appears lightweight, overwhelmed by the louder and more established voices dominating the room. Yet Wood’s Pritchard explodes into life when personal attacks on her sexuality surface.

The main parties are played broadly at times, almost in the style of a Christmas pantomime, with Labour, Reform, and the Greens forming a trio of exaggerated archetypes. This parody works in the play’s favour, highlighting how political debate is often simplified to the point of being dumbed down for public consumption.

Against this noise stands the independent candidate, Leo Wilson, played by Millie Hampson-May. Hampson-May, who previously impressed in Wannabes at the Edinburgh Fringe, delivers another standout performance. Their physicality conveys a deep, simmering despair that mirrors the mood of much of the British public. As the media and major parties talk amongst themselves, her character represents the local voice being systematically ignored. When she finally erupts, it is both inevitable and cathartic. This is a performance full of sincerity and frustration, and it anchors the production emotionally.

Directed by Dan Greenwood, The Candidates balances satire and broad comedy with clarity and keeps the pace tight and the staging purposeful, allowing the performances and writing to do the heavy lifting.

Ultimately, The Candidates is steeped in despair about the state of modern politics. Yet it refuses to be nihilistic. Through Leo Wilson and the idea of local representation, the play suggests that sincerity still exists, even if it is routinely marginalised by establishment forces and political parties. Hope, it argues, is not found in the grand spectacle of televised debate, but in the quieter insistence that politics should still mean something. In an era defined by cynicism, the Independent voice and local message feels both urgent and earned.

4/5 

Lee Hutchison