BRIGHTON FESTIVAL: TONIGHT – The Dance Space, Brighton

Written and performed by: Bertrand Lesca and Nasi Voutsas

Bertrand Lesca and Nasi Voutsas (Bert and Nasi for short) make an endearing double act. They start the evening sitting at a plain, practical, wooden table facing the audience as if they’re about to interview us for a job, and in a riffing, collaborative fashion they tell us about the show we’re about to see. As their scramble to prepare us for what we’re about to witness sprawls out, it becomes clear that what at first appears to be an introductory preamble is in fact the show itself. The inner workings of their creative endeavours are laid bare and allowed to roam freely in a free associative rollercoaster ride that is knowing but sincere, terrifying yet funny.

This is a show about grounding oneself in the nowness of the present moment. We’re led on an exploration of what “tonight” might entail, how it’s different to all the other performances because it’s in the present moment and those other nights are on other nights. But of course, it’s also exactly the same as the other nights because, as they tell us, “we wrote all these words”.

To lay bare the nuts and bolts of the machinery behind a show can be a difficult trick to pull off. It’s not uncommon for theatre on the experimental side to have plenty of winks and nudges towards the artificiality of the suspension of belief we’ve all signed up for. But TONIGHT doesn’t do metaness for the sake of metaness. It’s about two people acknowledging and exploring the creative boundaries of putting together a piece of theatre. And they do this with the humour of two wise fools alighting haphazardly upon profound truths.

“We can go dark tonight,” they tell us as they instruct their lighting engineer to show the dimmer switch in action. And it’s a forewarning for a rather alarming tonal shift as a flight of fancy on the theme of why they don’t do intervals gets very dark indeed. A nightmarish hellscape is conjured and it’s a sharp turn. There are distorted backwards voices, static and screams from the underworld. It’s a rather queasy journey testing the limits of Bert and Nasi’s friendship and trust in each other.

This hell is contrasted with a frivolous escapade featuring impressively up-to-date references to Sir Keir Starmer as he and his political colleagues enjoy a beach barbecue after they’ve solved all the problems in the world. It all quickly ends and it feels like awaking with a start from a vivid night of dreaming. What’s left behind is the impression of two very talented performers and writers who have pulled off a highly unique feat of theatrical magic.

Reviewed on 12 May 2026