"At first glance, ‘Here’s Connie’ appears to be just another late-twenties angsty life-hasn’t-turned-out-like-I-planned-it show. Fortunately, about five minutes into the play, the drama takes a left-turn and we begin the journey to find out what is actually causing Connie’s angst. As the show unfolds it explores themes such as war, PTSD, mental-health, aging and grief, and we find that there’s a lot more to Connie’s malaise than meets the eye. The show is the creation of Carrie-Ann Wilde, its writer and sole actress. The play is mostly a monologue narrated by Connie, although occasionally Wilde assumes different personalities including her brother, grandmother and a nursing patient, Lizzie. For one person (and especially one so young) Wilde is a remarkably self-possessed actress. She takes on the various roles and themes of her show with confidence and skill, looking out calmly over the audience. As well-performed as the show is, however, it would not be nearly so poignant were it not also well-written. Through the various monologues and personas we get to see first-hand how PTSD, mental illness and loss can affect different people. As the characters talk about their relationship to Connie we also get a much more more complete...

"Self-written, one woman play ‘Here’s Connie’ is a brave, poignant and deeply compelling piece of theatre. This is the story of a woman desperately trying to find her way in a life that has dealt her a bad hand, though often succumbing to the ever tempting hedonistic escapism of one night stands, alcohol and pounding nightclubs. Waking up hung-over one morning, Connie’s piecing together of memories from the night before leads her to evaluate the state of her life and the people in it. Most significant about the piece is its unflinching handling of uncomfortable societal truths, such as the problem of technology obsessed youth, and porn’s brutal eradication of romance. Graphic, explicit, truly evocative; there is something in this performance that will speak to everyone."    

"This forthright monologue opens the door to actress Carrie-Anne Wilde, an engaging new talent whose work embodies the follies of youth while creating a great sense of context for why her character's actions take place. Her Connie begins as a cliche, a vapid party girl with a wicked turn of phrase and a powerful lack of regard for what anyone thinks. She loves the sense of "false understanding as you talk so much drunken pish", and jokes about her own promiscuity. She dreamed that losing her virginity would involve candles and a Boyzone soundtrack, but now it's all "off-my-face Tulisa-style blow-jobs." Her mum calls to commiserate on the death of Maggie Thatcher and suggests she grow up, but Connie denies the chance. "Then our minds get lost," she says of giving in to the responsibilities of adulthood, clinging onto the absolution of responsibility she has bought into, and we come to find out why - about her soldier brother's dark change when he returned from the Middle East and the fate of John, her partner and his best friend. It's often a raw piece of work, but Wilde's storytelling is compulsive and engaging, with an authentic ear for the...