Hannah Maxwell whisks her audience into a whirlwind of tea-making, grief and full-blown Eurovision obsession that somehow all makes perfect sense. One second, she’s in the kitchen with her nan, the next, she’s waltzing through a Parisian fantasy, utterly convinced that meeting Barbara Pravi will change her life. It’s hilarious and heartbreaking, with that magic mix of chaos and charm that keeps everyone hooked. Her storytelling is sharp, her timing is impeccable, and just when you think you’ve got a grip on where it’s going, she flips the script with a gut-punch moment that leaves the room stunned.

The show feels huge, even though it’s just one person on stage. Maxwell bounces between reality and fantasy, pulling the audience straight into her world, breaking the fourth wall like it’s made of tissue paper and making every single person feel like part of the story. The writing is smart, the performance electric, and the dream sequences are so vivid they almost feel real. Then, just when it seems like she’s wrapped it all up, she unleashes a final song in flawless French that leaves everyone holding their breath: what a way to end a show. With humour, heart and a full dose of theatrical magic, Nan, Me & Barbara Pravi is wild, ridiculous, moving and the kind of theatre that lingers long after the lights go up.