Looking For Giants, King’s Head Theatre Review
Written by Paris for Theatre and Tonic
Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review
I was deeply unsettled when I finished watching Cesca Echlin’s Looking for Giants last night at the King’s Head Theatre in London. My feelings were tangled. At first, I felt a rush of excitement—like the thrill of a passionate discussion with a charismatic person you’ve just met. But one who expertly uses seduction and enticing words to distract you from deeper truths, and who, rather than treating you as an equal and caring for your mutual satisfaction, is mainly interested in their own.
Looking for Giants is an ambitious debut that navigates the fragile line between fantasy and reality, immersing the audience in a dreamlike narrative. Written and directed by Echlin and performed by Abby McCann, the play blurs the boundaries of memory and imagination through its three stories, leaving the viewer to ponder whether these moments are raw recollections or wistful, idealised reimaginings of the narrator’s past. Each story explores the narrator’s encounters with a different man—a university tutor, a dating app match, and a school crush—each serving as a canvas for her projections and unmet desires.
McCann, as the unnamed narrator, delivers a compelling performance that captivates the audience for the full 70-minute run. Effortlessly, she shifts between emotions and moods—funny, angry, passionate, sexy, neurotic, and deeply depressed—within minutes. Her undeniable talent, combined with the rhythm and energy of the text, as well as Echlin’s acting direction, gave her all the necessary materials to shine. McCann’s performance is nothing short of mesmerizing, showcasing her extraordinary ability to hold the audience’s attention and breathe life into complex emotions. It is a tour de force that remains the highlight of the evening.
Yet, there were missed opportunities with the direction overall. While the minimal use of movement and space works to focus on the text and story, the lack of distinct directional choices to differentiate the three parts—especially given that they occur at different times and stages of the character’s journey—felt like something was missing. It would have been compelling to see the character’s varying mindsets, ages, and situations reflected more distinctly through staging and performance.
Skylar Turnbull Hurd’s lighting design was masterful, adding depth to the tone and enhancing the emotional resonance of the play. An essential part of the storytelling and a true showcase of Hurd's skills. On the other hand, Sarah Spencer’s music, though of high quality and well-matched to the story’s tone, occasionally overshadowed the performance. At times, it felt as though the music dictated the audience’s emotions, leaving less room for McCann’s performance to breathe. This might be a matter of taste, but I personally prefer solo performances to lean into their rawness, without excessive external aids.
While Echlin’s text was undoubtedly well-crafted, with a strong sense of rhythm and the seductive power of language, it often felt more like prose than a cohesive play. The script seemed uncertain about its core purpose—what it wanted to communicate or the struggle it hoped to illuminate. Though it touched on potent themes such as the masochistic aspect of desire and the duality of getting both pain and pleasure from gendered power dynamics, it often felt like a self-admiring mental exercise. The play didn’t fully embrace the darker, uncomfortable truths of these themes; instead, it offered a perspective that came across as privileged and unaccustomed to hearing “no,” rather than incisive and capable of self-reflection.
A more profound exploration of the unsettling realization that power and submission play out in everyday social dynamics—not just in overtly consensual sexual terms—could have added depth to the piece. Shedding light on this “claustrophobic” discussion between guilt, pleasure, boundaries, conscious and unconscious choices, could have pushed the piece into deeper, uncharted territory. As long as I believed this was the direction the play was heading, I thought it was brilliant. This is an area that demands exposure and critique, yet the play stops short of fully addressing these internal and external authoritative structures.
Looking for Giants has moments of brilliance and showcases Echlin’s potential as a director and writer. The performance itself is a testament to the power of storytelling and the ability of theatre to reach orgasmic highs thanks to the aid of an unforgettable performance. In the end, though, I left with the same question as the protagonist in the play’s conclusion: was the audience there simply to indulge another of the creator’s-controlled imaginations, or was there an effort to share something meaningful and useful with the mutual respect and satisfaction that a conversation between art and its audience should always strive for? I think I am leaning more toward the first in this case.
At King’s Head Theatre until 26 January 2024
★ ★★
