Hot Mess

The Other Palace, London July 2026

Small is definitely out. Now that news and reviews only come in extra-large sizes, stuffed with superlatives and extreme promises, it’s dangerous, maybe foolish, to try selling the public any dance or theatre that requires attention to the detail.

It’s different if you’re selling star names. On the strength of her television performance in Killing Eve, Jodie Comer could fill a London theatre every night for her one-woman show, Prima Facie, exactly the way the ballerina Sylvie Guillem could pack them in whenever she danced solo.

Summer in London means musicals, often familiar hits that international tourists can enjoy without testing their English. Summer also means concerts, specifically the Proms at the Royal Albert Hall, where you can enjoy a different ensemble every night without fluency in any language.

Thoroughly entertained by the split-second choreography of World Cup football, I couldn’t find much dance that would offer the same satisfaction. So I took a chance on a new musical, Hot Mess, which arrived at The Other Palace trailing raves from last year’s productions at the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh and London’s Southwark Playhouse.

Talk about small. Hot Mess involves only two in the cast and three in the band. But Jack Godfrey (music and lyrics) and Ellie Coote (book and direction) didn’t need any more to track the progress of this planet and its inhabitants over the course of 4.5 billion years. In a mere 75 minutes this talented duo and the irresistible voices and personalities of Danielle Steers and Morgan Gregory transform some of today’s most pressing issues into a cool, life-enhancing romp, a poignant love story wrapped around some harsh truths.

Since the dawn of time, Earth has been hunting for someone or something to respect her needs and take care of her. In her first speech, she delivers a sly introduction to the show’s mocking tone and crafty double entendres. “I’ve been single for 750 million years,” she declares. “I can pull anyone—it’s called gravity. I’m not picky, I’m naturally selective.”

Innocent and perpetually cheerful, the potential partner who turns up is Humanity, an optimistic explorer searching for something he can develop, improve, and promote to everyone’s advantage. Once he stumbles onto the scene, the personal and planetary atmospheres heat up, and movement becomes as important as words. When Earth promised “There’s tons of stuff you haven’t discovered under the surface,” Humanity pounced on her to drill for the treasure inside her, and his naked lust brought a laugh of recognition and a shiver of apprehension from the audience.

Venturing hand in hand through history, the unlikely lovers can’t help but follow their inherent natures. He barges ahead ambitiously, she reins him in. He follows his creativity, she advises restraint; as he builds cities and armadas from wood, she warns that there’s not enough of it.

Each has nagging doubts about the relationship—can they ever live in harmony?—and eventually the mutual fascination that kindled their hopes turns toxic and grows cold. Their intimacy ends with Earth spinning off on her own, proudly independent, and Humanity charging ahead with ever more extravagant plans, still repeating “We’ll figure it out.”

Packed with rhymes like rap lyrics, the pop songs are rhythmically simple, verbally dense, and often sacrificed to amplification that seems unnecessary in a 312-seat theatre. It’s the staging, however, that holds the humor, desire, and disappointment in orbit.

Welded together inextricably, Alexzandra Sarmiento’s choreography and Coote’s direction fuse the dizzy romance to the climate crisis in gestures, glances, and action that adds physical dimension to thought. Humanity’s passion for progress shoots through him like electricity, shaping his body, his gait, his emotions and ideas. Earth moves smoothly—except when she blows her top—confidently flaunting her attractions.

Romcoms aren’t usually serious. Civilization’s mistakes aren’t usually funny. But unusual things happens every day when the world is a hot mess.

Hot Mess remain in The Other Palace until September 6. theotherpalace.co.uk