Home, I'm Darling - Lace Market Theatre Review

★★★★☆

There’s something irresistibly charming about the idea of escaping modern life to live out the fantasy of the 1950s — A world of starched collars, freshly baked cakes, and the comforting sound of a cocktail shaker at five o’clock sharp. But when nostalgia becomes a way of life, how long before the cracks begin to show? The Lace Market Theatre’s latest production of Home, I’m Darling asks precisely that, and does so with both humour and heart.

Laura Wade’s award-winning play follows Judy and Johnny, a modern couple who have chosen to abandon the 21st century and live as though it’s the 1950s. At first glance, their world is picture-perfect: pastel tones, vintage furniture, and a marriage straight out of a woman’s magazine. But beneath the gleaming surfaces lies a far more complex question: how much of this “perfect life” is performance, and what’s really being sacrificed in the name of nostalgia?

Jamie Goodliffe, Sally Eaton, Chris Mercer and Emma Smart. Photo Credit: Grace Eden Photography.

From the moment Sally Eaton steps on stage as Judy, it’s clear we’re in safe hands. Eaton embodies the 1950s ideal of the housewife with meticulous detail, a clipped accent, precise hand gestures, and a controlled smile. It’s all beautifully rehearsed, just as Judy’s life seems to be. Yet Eaton cleverly layers this veneer with flickers of vulnerability. Tiny cracks in the performance that suggest Judy knows, deep down, that her world is unsustainable. When the mask finally slips later in the play, Eaton gives a tender, emotionally rich portrayal that reminds us Judy isn’t ridiculous, she’s trapped. Eaton’s use of tone and subtle physicality makes this a perfectly cast, standout performance.

Jamie Goodliffe plays Johnny, the husband torn between admiration and exasperation for his wife’s dream. At first, Goodliffe leans into the old-fashioned gentleman stereotype, his exaggerated politeness and buttoned-up delivery played for comedy, and it works. But when Johnny steps outside the confines of his “1950s home,” Goodliffe smartly reveals another layer: a man who feels torn between eras, unsure of who he’s supposed to be. His switch between personas — one performative, one painfully real — is executed with conviction. The play’s emotional heart rests on this dynamic, and Goodliffe’s grounded approach gives it real weight.

Cynthia Marsh, as Judy’s mother, Sylvia, delivers what is arguably the production's defining moment. In a fiery, heartfelt monologue, Sylvia tears apart her daughter’s romanticised vision of the 1950s, laying bare the era’s hardships, inequality, and quiet despair. Marsh performs this speech with astonishing control, fierce but never shouty, raw yet precise. You could feel the air shift in the room as the audience leaned forward, hanging on every word. In a play full of nostalgic surface, this is a moment of pure, unfiltered truth. It’s an exceptional piece of writing by Wade, made even more powerful by Marsh’s performance.

Cynthia Marsh. Photo Credit: Grace Eden Photography.

Emma Smart brings a burst of modern energy as Fran, Judy’s sharp-tongued friend who openly points out the flaws of her friend's lifestyle. Smart’s performance is lively and relatable, her natural delivery grounding the show firmly in the present. There’s an authenticity to her interactions that contrasts beautifully with Judy’s stylised world. At times, Smart could afford to lean more into realism over performance, particularly in moments of revelation or vulnerability, especially when confiding about her husband's infidelity, where internal frustration was delivered as an outward performance of sadness. 

As Fran’s husband, Marcus, Chris Mercer is a whirlwind of charisma and confidence. His larger-than-life personality injects the show with comic energy, and his timing is impeccable. Mercer’s Marcus is funny, charming, and just the right amount of smarmy, a perfect contrast to Johnny’s beta-male modesty. However, as Mercer handles the character’s darker moments — an attempt to seduce Judy — I found myself wanting to laugh rather than be appalled, as the moment felt set up for a punchline, not a gasp.  But with Mercer’s stage presence, it's a tricky balance.

Finally, Ali Lit takes on the smaller but crucial role of Alex, Johnny’s boss. The grounded outsider looking in on Judy and Johnny’s strange domestic fantasy. Lit plays Alex with realism, feeling like an everyday human whose just stumbled into a wacky warehouse.

Ali Lit, Jamie Goodliffe, and Sally Eaton. Photo Credit: Grace Eden Photography.

Director Payash Raslan, in their Lace Market debut, brings together an impressively cohesive production. Raslan’s vision embraces the play’s charm, and it’s clear that every stylistic choice has a purpose. The sitcom-style laughter track that opens the show is a particularly clever touch, immediately establishing Judy and Johnny’s lives as something performative. However, some of the pacing could be tightened; the actors occasionally wait too long between lines, dulling the rhythm of Wade’s sharp dialogue.

Steph Nicholls’ set design is a true triumph; a 1950s dreamscape brought to life, complete with period-perfect flooring, furniture, and appliances. The costumes, designed by Sally Oxland, are equally exquisite, telling us as much about the characters’ psychology as their social standing. Gareth Morris’s sound design cleverly incorporates real 1950s radio jingles — Brill Cream and all — though they needed to be much louder to land fully with the audience. The choice to use canned laughter in the first act is both disorienting and clever, reinforcing the sense that Judy and Johnny’s lives are just another episode in a long-running sitcom. Allan Green’s lighting design complements all this beautifully.

If there’s one slight drawback, it’s that the play’s final moments meander somewhat. Wade’s script loses a little focus in its closing scenes, circling its point rather than driving it home. A sharper pace and higher energy from the cast might help the ending land with more of a punch. But even so, the emotional honesty of the performances carries it through.

Ultimately, Home, I’m Darling is a witty, heartfelt, and well-realised production, one that’s as entertaining as it is thought-provoking. The Lace Market Theatre continues to prove that amateur theatre can rival professional work in its ambition and craft. This is a show for anyone who’s ever wondered if life might be simpler in another era, and for anyone who’s ever realised that “simpler” doesn’t always mean “better.” For fans of WandaVision, Mad Men, or just good old-fashioned storytelling with a modern bite, Home, I’m Darling is a night well spent.

One thing’s certain: Home, I’m Darling proves that nostalgia isn’t what it used to be, and at Lace Market Theatre, that’s a very good thing indeed.