There is something wonderfully unpredictable about a dinner party with old university friends. Add alcohol, unresolved relationships, mobile phones full of secrets and a rogue rat called Romeo, and you have the ingredients for Screwed, a new 55-minute comedy from writers and co-directors Juliet Cooper and Lilli Wenzel.
Appropriately, the evening begins before we even enter the theatre. At the bar, audience members are greeted in character and offered a “water shot”. I hadn’t realised the performance had started, which made the interaction all the more effective. A trial shift, a C.U.N.T. badge and warnings about Romeo the rat quickly establish the playful and irreverent tone.
Inside, the production keeps things simple: a table and chairs in the intimate, darkened space become the setting for an annual reunion of university friends.
The opening takes a little time to settle. Some of the dialogue and comic timing could be tighter, meaning several of the early punchlines don’t quite find their mark. The waitress and the running Romeo storyline also initially feel slightly detached from the more natural comedy developing around the dinner table. Thankfully, Romeo gets his redemption later in the evening when the arrival of a remote-control rat turns the running joke into a surprisingly funny visual payoff.
It is when Screwed concentrates on the dynamics between its friends that it becomes much more assured.
There are shades of Abigail’s Party in its observation of people attempting to enjoy themselves while insecurities, old resentments and social awkwardness simmer underneath. This is very much a contemporary version of the uncomfortable dinner party, populated by recognisable characters and fuelled by smartphones, Instagram, dating apps and rather a lot of alcohol.
Big T’s intoxicated spiritual party boy is particularly entertaining, enthusiastically hugging his fellow guests and attempting to achieve “brain synchronisation”. Elsewhere we recognise the friend drinking too much to cope, the suspicious partner wondering whether somebody was flirting, and the long-suffering boyfriend trying desperately to keep his girlfriend happy.
The writing is at its sharpest when observing the small social rituals of reunions. Questions about being single, break-ups and whether anyone has children carry considerably more judgement than their innocent wording suggests. An embarrassing university hook-up resurfaces. Awkward silences appear. People instinctively retreat behind their phones.
One particularly perceptive moment comes when the phones are taken away. Finally forced to communicate with one another, the friends almost immediately resort to discussing the weather.
Then comes the game’s fatal mistake: reading messages from each other’s phones.
From here, Screwed begins to loosen up — both as a party and as a production.
Grindr notifications, aubergine emojis, an unexpected OnlyFans message and increasingly imaginative explanations involving nutrition and “spiritual connections” send carefully maintained appearances tumbling down. An Alcoholics Anonymous notification gives one character’s drinking an unexpectedly poignant undertone.
Faced with this avalanche of uncomfortable truths, the group’s solution is beautifully predictable: order considerably more alcohol.
The second half gathers pace as revelations become increasingly difficult to contain. An accidentally consumed edible adds to the confusion, secret relationships emerge and the evening eventually erupts into glorious physical chaos, complete with flying wigs and a deceased husband’s urn meeting an unfortunate fate.
Some of the strongest comedy comes not from conventional punchlines but from the staging. An accidental phone call allows a girlfriend absent from the party to hear considerably more than intended, while a mother calling for advice during some distinctly questionable under-the-table activity is very nicely judged.
My biggest laugh, however, came from one beautifully simple line: “I did warn you about the dark spirits.”
It’s exactly the sort of joke Screwed does best: emerging naturally from the ridiculous situation rather than announcing itself as a punchline.
The production also understands the unwritten rules of parties remarkably well. When one guest finally announces that they’re leaving, it triggers the inevitable mass exodus. And then comes perhaps the most recognisable party stereotype of them all: someone produces a guitar.
Naturally, it’s ‘Wonderwall’.
It’s a knowingly familiar choice, but it works, providing a warm and unexpectedly affectionate ending after the evening’s carnage.
Perhaps the most appealing thing about Screwed is that the play follows almost exactly the same trajectory as the party it depicts.
At first, things are slightly awkward. The conversation doesn’t always flow and you’re waiting for something to happen. Then everyone relaxes, the stories become more interesting, secrets start emerging and suddenly the evening has become considerably more entertaining than you expected.
There is still some polishing to be done. Sharper pacing and more confident comic timing would allow the writing to breathe and help some of the earlier jokes land more successfully. The observational humour is noticeably stronger than some of the broader comedy, and leaning further into that strength could make the piece even better.
This is, however, a young cast and creative team taking an ambitious swing at ensemble comedy, and there is plenty of promise here. Cooper and Wenzel have a particularly good eye for the strange little behaviours that emerge when old friends reunite and discover that shared history doesn’t necessarily mean their lives still fit comfortably together.
The Bread & Roses Theatre was unfortunately uncomfortably warm on the night — not ideal when watching an increasingly alcohol-fuelled dinner party unfold in such an intimate space — but that’s a venue issue rather than a reflection on the production.
Screwed may begin somewhat tentatively, but it grows increasingly confident, funny and likeable as the evening progresses. By the time Romeo is scurrying around, secrets are everywhere, the urn has gone flying and Wonderwall has inevitably appeared, the production has thoroughly found its groove.
Just like a good party, it takes a little while to warm up — but by the end, you’re rather glad you stayed.
Review by Joanna Birch
Screwed explores what happens when carefully maintained appearances begin to crack under the pressure of an unforgettable night. As friendships are tested and hidden, truths emerge, the dinner table becomes the perfect setting for a fast-paced comedy, witty dialogue, awkward encounters and plenty of surprises. This is one dinner party you won’t want to miss attending, so take your seat and allow yourself to become immersed in the entertainment.
Juliet Cooper – Waiter
Lilli Wenzel – Waiter
Megan Wells – Rowan
Leah Fox – Rebecca
Scott Cooper-Holmes – Aaron
Molly-Rose Ebner – Stacey
Franklyn Marshall – Jonny
Charlotte Preston – Poppy
Santiago Azcueta – Big T
Molly Masterson – Glint
Adam Turl – Michelle
Written and directed by Juliet Cooper and Lilli Wenzel
SCREWED
Bread & Roses Theatre, 23 August 2026
Libra Theatre Café, 24 and 25 August 2026
