The Shitheads - Royal Court Theatre (Upstairs)
Theatre is subjective. Not every story will suit everyone; one is bound to find a piece that simply does not speak to them. I realise that beginning a review in this way does not bode especially well for the production in question. Whilst that instinct is not entirely misleading, there is, in truth, much here to unpick. It is only fair to preface any discussion by noting that this is a show steeped in blood and gore, and one which proves genuinely terrifying at points.
The piece, its writer (Jack Nicholls) suggests, may take inspiration from a true story. It follows a family living in a prehistoric cave, whose defining belief is that there are two kinds of people in the world: themselves and the so-called “Shitheads”. Within minutes we learn that they are convinced consuming the brains of these others will grant them access to their thoughts and dreams. When Clare encounters Greg, those beliefs begin to feel dangerously seductive. In practice, however, the narrative often becomes secondary to the visceral impact of what unfolds onstage; the sheer volume of gore is difficult to look beyond.
Whilst this reviewer spent much of the performance in the front row in a state of genuine fear, the production value is undeniably high. The set is extraordinary, particularly given the limitations of a studio space. Almost entirely contained within the cave, the textured relief and earthy palette feel strikingly authentic, the rock walls adorned with primitive paintings that flicker in the half-light. If the aesthetic is distinctive, what lingers even more vividly in the memory is the puppetry., imagined and choreographed by Finn Caldwell. The opening sequence, in which Clare and Greg hunt a vast elk operated by three performers, is an arresting image, strongly reminiscent of the National Theatre’s production of War Horse. It is not the only example, and each appearance is handled with impressive precision and imagination.
What ultimately anchors the show, however, are the performances, which are as chilling as the material demands. The cast sustain an atmosphere of ritual and threat, their vocal work and physicality blurring the line between human and something altogether more primitive. Even at its most grotesque, the acting remains controlled and purposeful, ensuring the horror is psychological as much as visual.
This is not a comfortable evening of theatre, nor does it seem to want to be. It is frequently overwhelming, sometimes to the point that its story struggles to be heard above the sound and fury of its own invention. And yet there is no denying the craft on display: the meticulous design, the inventive staging, and a company of performers who commit to the material with fearless intensity. One may leave unsure whether they liked the experience, but certain that it is not easily shaken — and in a theatrical landscape often accused of playing safe, that in itself feels like a kind of triumph.
Production Value: 70%
Value For Money: 70%
Personal Enjoyment: 35%
Overall Score: 58% - ⭐️⭐️⭐️ (3*)
(AD | Ticket gifted in exchange for an honest review)
Show Information
Venue: Royal Court Theatre (Jerwood Theatre Upstairs), London
Playing until: 14th March 2026
Run Time: Approximately 1h40
Tickets for this production are now SOLD OUT. Check the theatre's website regularly for returns.
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