Too Small To Tell ⭐️⭐️⭐️

It’s a story about friendship, power and surviving Harvey Weinstein’s heliocentric hell. The play is a deeply personal story inspired by the #metoo movement and draws from Rose's own experience of working as an assistant at Miramax and actress in the 90’s. Nearly thirty years later, in the wake of recent allegations about - Justin Baldoni, Russell Brand, Sean Combs, Gino D'Acampo, Noel Clarke, Mohamed Al-Fayed, Giovanni Pernice, Kevin Spacey, Donald Trump and Jeffrey Epstein. Lisa reflects on her time at Miramax and asks: when is a story too BIG to tell? why does this keep happening?

📷 Peter Williams

Direction by Liz Ranken and Paula B is mostly clear and thoughtfully structured. The storytelling is easy to follow and the transitions between time periods are generally smooth. However, there were a few entrances and exits that felt slightly contradictory in tone, and some small movement sequences (borderline stylised dance moments) that didn’t entirely land. They weren’t disruptive, just slightly unclear in purpose.

The set design is stripped back: a black chair, a single mic and mic stand. It’s minimal, unfussy and appropriate for a one-woman piece like this. The simplicity allows the audience to focus on the words and performance rather than spectacle.

Video design is one of the production’s strengths. The opening projection sets the tone effectively, grounding us in context without overwhelming the space. It’s then used sparingly and tastefully throughout. If anything, I’d have welcomed it being slightly larger, the imagery felt strong enough to warrant a more dominant presence.

📷 Peter Williams

Lighting is simple but functional, clearly shifting us between locations and emotional beats without drawing attention to itself. It’s subtle work, but solid. Sound is where things become slightly frustrating. The projection levels were clear, but the microphone didn’t seem to add much in terms of reinforcement. At times it felt more symbolic than practical. As it looked like they were using an SM58, them mics are meant for close range talking rather than standing further away. It might have been the positioning or levels, but the result was that it didn’t noticeably enhance the storytelling.

For me, the biggest area for development lies in the book by Lisa Rose. The show carries a vital message, one that absolutely deserves a platform, but the structure feels slightly unfocused in the first half. We spend a significant amount of the show time in early scenes centred around auditions and flat-sharing anecdotes. While these moments provide context, they don’t strongly drive the central narrative forward, and the repeated references to a certain character that didnt always feel necessary.

There’s also a sequence involving a penis costume and audience interaction that is clearly intended as comic relief. On paper, it’s bold and satirical. In practice, at least on the night I attended, it felt more awkward than playful. The humour throughout the show is mixed: some moments land sharply, offering welcome levity, while others feel tonally at odds with the gravity of the material.

📷 Peter Williams

However, once the play shifts into Lisa’s experience within the industry and the deeper thematic exploration of power, complicity and survival, it truly starts to come into its own. This is where the show feels focused, emotionally charged and dramatically engaging. The pacing tightens, the stakes feel clearer, and the storytelling becomes more immersive. That said, because so much time run time is, in the earlier, less essential scenes, the most powerful sections of the show end up feeling slightly under explored and in some parts tagged on. Just as we begin to really dig into the heart of the story, the systemic issues, the emotional fallout, the uncomfortable truths the show ends. It feels like we’re only scratching the surface. I found myself wanting these moments to be developed further, to sit in them longer, and to interrogate them more deeply. There is rich, complex material here, and it deserves even more space to breathe.

Performance-wise, Lisa Rose delivers a strong and committed portrayal. She carries the show with confidence and emotional honesty. There were a few fleeting moments where I would have appreciated more physical distinction between characters, as occasionally it took a second to work out who we were with. But overall, her performance is assured, brave and clearly deeply personal.

Too Small To Tell is a show with an important story at its heart and a performer fully invested in telling it. While the structure would benefit from tightening and a sharper focus on its most compelling material, when it leans into its central message, it becomes powerful and absorbing. With some refinement and deeper exploration of its strongest themes, this could evolve into an even more impactful piece of theatre.