Thanks for Having Me at Riverside Studios – review

Thanks For Having Me should fall under the umbrella of a horror story – not because of blood or gore, but for its unflinching portrayal of modern dating and the emotional carnage it can leave behind. Steeped in the bones of a cautionary tale, the play follows two men in their early 30s, tentatively navigating romantic relationships in a world where vulnerability is currency and miscommunication is the norm. There’s an uneasy charm to it all, but beneath the surface simmers a quiet dread.

From the moment the lights went down, the discomfort is palpable. Not in a bad way, but in that itching, skin-crawling kind of way that only comes from seeing something painfully familiar play out in front of you. The awkward text exchanges, the slowly tightening grip of emotional dependency, the thrilling but exhausting back-and-forth of modern situationships, it all lands with precision. As Taylor Swift might put it: “I think I’ve seen this film before… and I didn’t like the ending.”

Keelan Kember’s writing is sharply observed, blending dry wit with moments of real emotional warmth. One standout line comes from Honey (played by Kedar Williams-Stirling), who describes each woman he’s let down as forming a kind of emotional horcrux, a darkly funny metaphor that lingers. There’s something refreshing about seeing male characters portrayed through a softer lens: romantic, hopeful, even naive. Cashel (played by Kember) is no exception to the rosy idealism that borders on love bombing, leaving the audience to question: is this sweet or is this a warning sign? That tension is where the play thrives. Will Cashel fall victim to heartbreak and end up floating through life leading girls on? It never tells you what to think, it just lays it out, raw and disarming.

Performances are solid across the board, with a naturalistic delivery that makes you feel like you’re eavesdropping on real conversations. The first date dynamic between Honey and his love interest Maya (played by Adeyinka Akinrinade) feels authentic and intimate. The chemistry between the actors carries the narrative, even when the plot meanders slightly in the second half. Direction (Monica Cox) is understated but effective, allowing the characters’ emotional truths to take centre stage without distraction.

The play does however lack a sense of urgency and dramatic stakes, the characters rarely feel like they have anything meaningful to lose. While the onstage chemistry is strong, Eloise (played by Nell Tiger Free) and Maya often come across as narrative tools, existing primarily to further Cashel and Honey’s emotional journeys rather than having fully developed arcs of their own.

The set design (Ellie Wintour) is sparse but evocative, with clever use of lighting (designed by Matt Karmios) to convey shifts in mood and perspective. There’s a creeping sense of claustrophobia, especially in the more intimate scenes, that mirrors the emotional entrapment unfolding in the script.

Ultimately, Thanks For Having Me succeeds because it doesn’t try to offer answers. It simply holds up a mirror, one you might not want to look into for too long. It’s uncomfortable, messy, and quietly devastating. But it’s also funny, tender, and achingly human.

Thanks for having me? You’re welcome. I think.