Review: BLINK at the King's Head Theatre

Blink centres around a delightfully quirky premise that is equal parts funny and tragic. Sophie (Abigail Thorn) and Jonah (Joe Pitts) are two lonely neighbours who form an unlikely connection when Sophie impulsively mails Jonah a baby monitor with a screen, connected to her flat. He begins obsessively watching her, and then following her whenever she leaves the house, all while she pretends not to be aware, and soon two find themselves in an unconventional romantic relationship - without ever having met face to face.

What could have come across as purely sinister winds up being almost strangely heartwarming. Jonah and Sophie go through the motions of dating - watching the same trashy soap opera, going out for meals at the same restaurant, even taking a romantic spin on the London Eye - without acknowledging each other's presence, in what feels like a parody of the artifice of online dating. Although the play was written fourteen years ago, it feels eerily relevant to the modern age of the internet, where livestreams and social media have given rise to online stalking and parasocial relationships. It feels like even more of a pointed commentary with Sophie being played by Abigail Thorn, creator of Philosophy Tube, who has been vocal about her experiences with parasocial relationships as a YouTuber.

But despite the fascinating premise and its social implications, the script falls apart slightly towards the latter half of the play, resulting in an ending that feels rushed and a bit unearned. There are points where the story drags with moments of drama or digression that detract from the subtlety of Sophie and Jonah's bizarrely sweet relationship. The play sets up all kinds of complex questions about the fragile nature of human connection, how we cope with loneliness and depression, and the fear of real intimacy, and then leaves many of these threads hanging.

The real saving grace of the play, however, is the chemistry between Thorn and Pitts, who play off each other with sincerity and humour. Thorn's stilted, melancholy awkwardness and apathy perfectly capture Sophie's depressed, repressed state, while Pitts as Jonah is manic and earnest, equal parts unsettling and endearing in his lack of social awareness. Their comedic timing flows seamlessly with the overall deadpan humour of the play's tone, where even mundane moments are described with a sense of mocking absurdity, punctuated by outrageously funny one-liners.

The tiny space of the King's Head Theatre immediately evokes the same sense of intimacy and claustrophobia that Sophie and Jonah experience in their flats, and Matt Powell's video design, with ten screens laid out on the wall behind the stage, allow us to observe Sophie in fragments, the way Jonah does. As the only two actors onstage, Thorn and Pitt manage to bring a richness and depth to the world of the play. The two characters narrate the events of the story in parallel, initially interrupting each other's monologues, before they gradually start finishing each other's sentences as they become more in sync, and finally culminating in a poignant scene where they have a conversation at last, speaking to each other instead of the audience.

In this way, Blink straddles the line neatly between sweet and strange, offering a subtle, satirical commentary on the modern state of love (Jonah informs us in the opening that this is, at its core, a love story) without banging us over the head with it. And while it trips over itself slightly towards the end, Thorn and Pitts' performances carry the story through its shakier bits, so that what emerges is as profound as it is funny.

Blink is playing at the King's Head Theatre until 22nd March 2026.