Limp Wrist and the Iron Fist at Brixton House

It was a night of firsts as we made our way to a new venue for the Cog team – Brixton House. Located in the ever-so-trendy area of Brixton, the venue opened in 2022 and is the renamed and relocated Oval House Theatre, which closed in 2020.

Brixton House is a modern, community-focused theatre hosting bold, experimental, and socially conscious performances. It boasts two flexible theatre spaces, multiple rehearsal and studio rooms, as well as a café and bar – all designed not only to be a fantastic performance venue but also a creative hub for artists and the local community.

Tonight’s offering was the gloriously queer Limp Wrist & The Iron Fist, written by Emmanuel Akwafo. First staged at Brixton House in 2024 as part of the Housemates Festival, it has now returned for another run in 2025.

Emmanuel describes the story as being born from his own deeply personal experiences, aiming to empower young Black queer people to embrace the fullness of who they are:

Starring Noah Thomas, Prince Kundai, Romeo Mika, and Tyler Orphé-Bake as Nathaniel, Monday, Joseph, and Amari, the play navigates faith, friendship, family, and the struggles of growing up Black and queer in London.

From the moment the play begins, it’s clear this is a story unafraid to confront difficult themes. There is plenty of humour, but beneath the surface lie brutally honest accounts of racism, homophobia, complicated relationships, and the internal conflicts each character carries.

The cast is incredibly strong. Every actor delivers a rich, fully realised character with intensity and vulnerability. The production’s greatest success is the chemistry between the performers; they feel like lifelong friends who know exactly how to push each other’s buttons – and how to support one another when it really counts.

The production design is stripped back but atmospheric. Clever lighting and sound keep the energy shifting between scenes, from loud, vibrant clubs to still, delicate moments so intimate it feels as though you’re intruding on something private.

There was a great deal to like about this performance; however, I found the shifting, sometimes inconsistent pacing a little jarring. Back-to-back monologues occasionally drained the momentum, and I struggled to re-engage once the action moved on. At points, the abrupt switch between humour and trauma left me feeling slightly unsettled.

My final thoughts on this production are that it tells an incredibly important story, exploring lives and identities that are often kept private or hidden. While the storytelling format wasn’t always successful, it was still stylishly delivered, filled with hope and queer joy.

I imagine there will be many audience members who feel deeply moved and validated by the themes explored in this piece.

Illustration by Marieme Ba for our Cultural Calendar.