Londongrad – Camden Fringe / Camden People’s Theatre, London

Londongrad throws a newly minted Labour prime minister into crisis mode when Putin offers to buy London – via emoji – in this sharply–executed political farce.

Londongrad

There’s an undeniable energy to Londongrad, Athena Atherton’s satirical political farce that imagines what would happen if, just months into a Labour government, Vladimir Putin offered to buy London. In emojis. It’s exactly the kind of ludicrous premise that shouldn’t feel plausible, and yet here we are. The hour-long crisis management scenario that unfolds in No. 10 draws liberally from real-life scandals. An unsecured group chat, awkward proximity to the Epstein files, career politicians saying the quiet parts out loud. The play’s pacing is relentless and so is the humour, which veers between sharp, absurd, and worryingly believable.

We open on Keira Palmer (Cassia Crimin), the newly elected PM whose only clear ideology seems to be “stay in power.” She’s flanked by a Foreign Secretary (Cameron Wight) more interested in banter than cabinet briefings, and a Comms Director (Molly Kerrigan) seemingly promoted well beyond her capability. Together, they lurch from one disaster to another. The style owes plenty to The Thick of It: cut-glass dialogue, panicked spin, and characters who were clearly never built for high office. The execution is impressively deft. Soundbites ping in from Murdochs and world leaders, while a projector flashes up maps and press footage. Simple lighting recreates the press scrum with minimal fuss. There’s a satisfying rhythm to the whole thing: short scenes, big laughs, then onto the next indignity. And it really is funny – the audience laughed often and loudly.

Sometimes, You Just Have to Laugh

If I have a critique (aside from wondering why that wig made the final costume design – and not even the one in the images), it’s that I’m not entirely sure what Londongrad wants to leave us with. It does a brilliant job of skewering our current political moment: the way scandals land with all the force of a dropped sandwich, quickly forgotten and cleaned up by whoever’s nearby. The show is at its best when it leans into this grim absurdity, but doesn’t quite reach for more.

There’s no real comeuppance for these characters, no moment of reckoning or implosion, so we don’t get the release that satire can sometimes offer. But equally, it doesn’t try to suggest a way out of the mess either. Maybe that’s a conscious choice, gallows humour for an exhausted electorate. Perhaps we’re not meant to feel better, just to recognise how farcical it’s all become.

Still, it lands. The writing is slick, the cast are clearly having fun without tipping into caricature, and the whole piece has a strong sense of control, even as its characters spiral. There are only a couple of nights left on the Camden Fringe run, and if you, too, have reached the point where you just have to laugh, you could do a lot worse than Londongrad. The parallels with late-stage empire comedies are hard to ignore. If the world really is burning, maybe this is exactly the kind of satire we deserve.

Salterton Arts Review’s rating: 4/5

Londongrad on as part of Camden Fringe until 2 August 2025. More info and tickets here.