Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown at Hayes Theatre: Review
- Victoria Luxton (she/her)
- May 16
- 3 min read
Updated: 7 days ago
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown is a frenzied swirl of melodrama, farce and 1980s flair — and while it may not tick every box as a feminist triumph, it embraces emotional chaos with such conviction that it’s hard not to be swept along for the ride.
Director Alexander Berlage brings his signature theatrical flair to this musical adaptation of Pedro Almodóvar’s cult classic. What unfolds is part sitcom, part soap opera, and part fever dream — a show that leans into its camp and confusion with open arms.
The set, designed by Hailley Hunt, frames the action like a television screen, bordered in black with vibrant ribbon curtains along the edges — as if the characters are performing live inside a pulsing, over-saturated telenovela. The apartment space is messy, colourful, and full of '80s knick-knacks. A functioning phone box cleverly doubles as a recording booth, and the bed, placed dead centre on stage, becomes a focal point throughout. At one point, it literally catches fire (intentionally, of course), sending up a plume of smoke that was just a touch too enthusiastic. The audience, naturally, was thrilled.
Costume designer Sam Hernandez matches the visual language perfectly — the costumes are bold, textural, and rooted firmly in the show’s campy, retro spirit. Hernandez and Hunt’s work complement each other beautifully, creating a world that feels cohesive, heightened, and thoroughly theatrical.
There’s a sense of controlled chaos to the entire production, with choreography by Chiara Assetta that is playful, slick, and full of surprises. One particularly joyful moment saw hands emerge from the ribbon curtains to clap in rhythmic layers — a beautifully timed visual gag that speaks to the tight ensemble work on display. This is a well-oiled cast that works seamlessly as a team, each performer playing into the show’s frenetic tone with total commitment.
Amy Hack is luminous as Pepa. She can captivate with just a glance — one raise of an eyebrow is enough to command the room. Her performance is sharp, funny, and emotionally rich, grounding the show even as everything else spins wildly around her. She carries the cast through the show’s emotional peaks and valleys, embodying Pepa with a confidence that’s both commanding and vulnerable.
Tisha Kelemen delivers the evening’s most unexpected emotional gut punch as Lucia. Her song Invisible temporarily halts the chaos, allowing a moment of raw honesty to shine through. Kelemen’s voice and presence cut through the noise with heartbreaking clarity, shifting the musical into a more grounded register — even if just for a few minutes. Aaron Robuck, as the ever-present taxi driver, provides sweet comic moments and a joyful musical surprise, playing a sparkling accordion under a warm spotlight — a small but delightful highlight that felt like a love letter to theatrical charm.
While the musical itself has been criticised in the past for its structure and score, I found the script witty and well-paced. The music may not be groundbreaking, but in Berlage’s hands, it supports the mood with verve. If the show stumbles in places — and yes, the emotional stakes could be better distributed — it does so with style.
Women on the Verge is ultimately a loud, messy, riotously entertaining night at the theatre. It’s a show that knows exactly what it is and makes no apologies — full of flair, friction, and heart. Come for the chaos, stay for the accordion, and let yourself be swept up in the madness.
