Review by Simon Jenner, July 11 2025
“I’m a recovering Mormon” Steven protests, Sean Daniels’ The White Chip arrives at Southwark Playhouse Borough till August 16th, directed by Matt Ryan.
Premiered off-Broadway in 2024, it’s a comedy about tragedy, something overtaking, destroying millions of us annually. It’s so funny it hurts. Unusually too, there’s not only redemption, but as Daniels’ alter ego Steven concludes: “It might be God, but it’s certainly science.” The white chip struck me as a mix of Vegas casino and bitcoin. Double dodgy.
Ed Coleman. Photo Credit: Danny Kaan
It’s neither, but a mandatory watch for anyone who’s ever been, or ever known someone with alcohol addiction. Daniels suggests that’s most of us touched by the disease. Which sounds boring. Don’t worry. It’s a scream.
Steven (a superbly distrait Ed Coleman, gangling charm) narrates his slipping-down life with a button-holing aplomb that makes him wonder if after all alcohol gives him his spark. With two multi-roling actors #1 (Mara Allen) and #2 (Ashlee Irish) first Mom and Dad, then students, work-colleagues, wives (yes plural) friends and mentors, this sparky trio rollercoasters over 90 minutes like a road musical. Without songs. Allen and Irish sashay through knotty people with a poise airborne and funny: perfect foils to a hollowed-out laughter Coleman makes his own.
Lee Newby’s set swirls chairs and Steven’s subfusc costume is counterpointed by the black ones worn by his colleagues. Lit by Jamie Platt there’s a riotously skilful use of small torches as lights – oncoming traffic being the most spectacular. Lighting generally sculpts the landscapes of this bare Borough Large studio. Max Pappenheim’s sound pumps out and snaps off with brio.
We first meet Steven as a 12-year-old Mormon introduced to beer by a friend. He swiftly morph-ons into a college student long losing his religion (as do his parents), partying so hard he crashes cars. But he strolls out of early wreckage, lunching martini professionally. His zen-like father suggesting he writes poetry is a gentle influence; relations with his mother though are fraught.
Landing his theatre career, Steven fast-tracks to the top of a company, day-drinking. It’s fine, Steven’s uber-smart and charming, wisecracking jokes like ice tinkling in the vodka and Diet Coke you can’t detect. Co-workers are fine with this too: “You’re an artist. You’re expected to be eccentric!” he smarms.
Ed Coleman, Ashlee Irish. Photo Credit: Danny Kaan
Problem is, Steven puts down this success to alcohol. Later he complains he can’t imagine chatting to a woman without it, or interviewing for a promotion. He even marries a woman whose desire is to be married, then live long distances away. His father gets Parkinson’s, gets sicker, Steven doesn’t visit. When he does call, his father in a disease-slurred voice tells him not to call for the Christmas break. Steven’s relations with his mother have broken down as far as that. There’s a caper with ashes.
What happens as Steven spirals is the stuff of truth (it’s closely autobiographical) and thus spoilers. Clearly Steven/Sean has survived. But quite how this happens isn’t as predictable as you’d think. Cure devastations, AA (cue that title) rehab, rehab, AA, rehab.
What changes is when Irish’s mentor tells Steven in a startling phrase: “Go to the Jews, they’ll tell you.” This point (acted deliriously with side-cracks by Allen and Irish) has to be a spoiler because it’s a life-saver too. Alcohol we find replaces the dopamine that makes you happy. The brain doesn’t need it with alcohol topping up; but if you withdraw from alcohol the brain’s forgotten how to summon dopamine back: cue alcohol cravings.
There’s an extraordinary twist to that epiphany, and radiant epilogue. It’s realistic too. The story of Job, despite Steven’s agnosticism, is relevant. With superb acting, and stylishly minimal set, it’s the most entertaining life-saver you’ll see, whether you need it or not. If you don’t see it, spread the word anyway.
Production Manager Mark Hartley, Stage Manager Rosie Morgan, ASM Jodie Devlin, Costume Supervisor Madeleine Edis, Production Electrician Lewis Watson, Production Sound Manager Oscar Cotran, Accent Coaches Nina Zendejas & Caitlin Stegemoller
Lighting Hire White Light, Sound Hire Pressure Wave Audio, Press Kevin Wilson PR, Marketing & Digital Media Jack Malin, Artwork & Graphic Design Pyjama Media, Production Photo Credits by Danny Kaan, Production Videographer. Jake Waby, Production Assistant Bethany Whittle, Casting Director & General Manager Danielle Tarento
Ashlee Irish Ed Coleman. Photo Credit: Danny Kaan
