Review: Single White Female, Richmond Theatre
A self-aware adaptation of the 90s cult screen classic delivers unapologetic entertainment.
It was the year of Basic Instinct and the lingering aftershock of Fatal Attraction – a moment when the femme fatale dominated screens and psychological thrillers flirted freely with something more lurid. Single White Female never quite scaled those heights, but it got included into film history somewhere between glossy paranoia and late-night cable staple, gathering cult status along the way.
Three decades on, it lands at Richmond Theatre in a stage version by Rebecca Reid that sensibly avoids treating the original with too much reverence. The action is shifted from 90s Manhattan to present-day Britain and threads in the expected markers of modern life – social media, body image and Ozempic craze, the low-level panic of constant visibility on social media. The premise remains deliciously intact. Allie, newly single after a failed relationship, advertises for a lodger. Here comes in quiet and seemingly self-contained Hedy. From there things slide with a steady unnerving insistence. Reid also gives the story a sharper edge by introducing a new character – Allie’s teenage daughter, Bella, that gives story a new dimension and a sharper edge.
Director Gordon Greenberg understands that playing this material straight would be a mistake. Instead, he nudges it, occasionally quite hard, toward something closer to camp and comedic. The plot shifts emotional gears quickly. It twists so often and with so much enthusiasm that by the interval conversations are firmly underway – who is playing whom, who is lying, what exactly is going on – and the second half does not rush to clarify matters.
Kym Marsh’s Hedy is not a slow reveal but a series of calculated adjustments: voice, posture, warmth, threat. She can pivot from ingratiating to quietly menacing in a heartbeat, and the speed of those shifts is uncomfortable. Lisa Faulkner gives Allie an easy, open quality that makes her immediately likeable, even when the script withholds some of the character’s sharper edges. Their dynamic often makes audience burst into laughter, which give this adaptation a fantastic self-aware wink.
A standout comes from Amy Snudden as Bella, whose easy susceptibility to Hedy’s influence introduces a more quietly unsettling thread. In a world where identity is already performative, her character feels particularly vulnerable to manipulation.
Visually, the production is sleek and contained. Morgan Large’s apartment set offers a modern, curated space that gradually reveals itself to be more claustrophobic than it first appears, while Jason Taylor’s lighting shifts deftly between domestic warmth and something altogether more clinical and exposed. Occasional flashes and strobes punctuate the action, pushing certain moments into a heightened, almost cinematic register.
What this version gets right is its sense of proportion. Unlike the original movie, it never tips over into something more self-important, it doesn’t attempt a grand statement about identity or obsession, and is better for that restraint.
Call it a guilty pleasure if you like, but you do get a sense that this is not a production interested in explaining itself , but rather interested in keeping you watching.
Single White Female plays at Richmond Theatre until 18th April and continues touring until June.
Tickets: here
Elena Leo is the Culture & Lifestyle Editor of Ikon London Magazine.
