Review: Ballad Lines, at the Southwark Playhouse Elephant, London

Don't you love a (kind of) last minute London trip? While I may be heading to town for a few days in March, this particular show will have ended by then. And it looked so much up my street, and I had heard so much from word of mouth and social media, I wanted to try it out. So despite it being a very long day, it was worth it.

Plus it got one of my 2026 Theatre Resolutions crossed off in February: to visit a theatre I had never been to before

The new folk musical Ballad Lines is currently having its London premiere at the new-ish London venue Southwark Playhouse Elephant. Originally called A Mother's Song, it was originally created for Royal Conservatoire of Scotland and American Musical Theatre Project in 2018. From Chicago, to Edinburgh's Fringe, a reading as part of Lowry's Rewrites Festival and a studio cast album last year has now lead to this. So, first big reason to see this: support new musicals! 

In Ballad Lines, we follow women across geography and time, through songs (or ballads) passed down from generation to generation

We criss-cross across time, from 1600s Scotland, Ireland approximately 100 years later, to present day New York; following the real life migration route from Scotland, to Ulster in Northern Ireland, and then to the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia. 

In modern day New York, 34 year old Sarah has inherited a mysterious box from her estranged and deceased Aunt Betty. At the encouragement of her partner Alex, Sarah opens the box to find an old diary and a load of tapes made by her aunt. Through they diary and Betty's tapes, Sarah dives into the stories of her ancestors from Scotland and Ireland. Through the ballads, these women told stories of grief, hardship, love, and motherhood, forcing Sarah to embark on her own journey of self discovery. 

I have to first mention this score; because it is beautiful

Fans of Benjamin Button, Once, Come From Away and Hadestown will love the score for Ballad Lines. Finn Anderson wrote songs that are rooted in traditional Scottish and Irish folk, along with genres of music other settlers would add their inspirations to create: bluegrass, country, blues and jazz. And what is genius, is that the further back we go, the more traditional the score sounds, but when we are in a more recent timeline, the more mixed the sound becomes. Through the small band of keys, drums, violin and guitar, you feel the rhythm of this music pulsing through the audience like a heartbeat, aided by the cast thumping their feet on stage, rooting you to your seat and into the action. And in the same sentence, the harmonies created from this wonderful cast have you almost floating as one of the referenced women of water and air. 

Similar to sea shanties and country, the ballads are the women's way of passing down their stories from generation to generation (rather than writing it down). Similarly with the score, Anderson's lyrics draw you in, and get you invested in the story, no matter which timeline we are in, or even if there are multiple at one go. There seems to be a rise in folk being the main genre in new work, particularly in British musicals, and I hope this score gets added to the most beloved roster. 

If there were to choose one main theme to Ballad Lines, it would be choice

In a period where certain individuals think they have the right to make a choice on what a woman does with her body for them, it is refreshing to see a piece of theatre tackle this subject not just in different time periods, but also different circumstances: a woman being happily married but not wanting children and who cannot find the words to say that to her husband: a young girl becoming pregnant after a fling with a sailor, and fleeing all she's known to keep her baby: and a queer woman who thought children were never on the cards for her, now having doubts about the choice she's made. 

Ballad Lines is a unique look at womanhood and motherhood that I don't think I have ever seen before. Anderson and co writer Tania Azevedo's book emphasises the lyrics, giving you engaging characters, and a story which not only hooks you in, but is also incredibly moving. There was at least one point a tear was shed throughout this wonderful story. 

And said story was aided beautifully by this wonderful cast 

Would tightly together, the almost entirely female small cast were utterly captivating, through their acting, though Tinovimbanshe Sibanda's earthy choreography, or the harmonies for days. Lead by Frances McNamee (Girl From the North Country) as Sarah and Olivier winner Rebecca Trehearn (City of Angels) as Betty, this group is outstanding. Both leads, acting as our narrators through both present and past respectfully engage you from the start. And by the time you get to their flashback scene, the only scene with the two of them in together (not counting any recordings here), you are punched in the gut by these two. 

We also have some wonderful supporting performances, from Kirsty Findlay as Scottish ancestor Cait, Yna Tresvalles as Irish ancestor Jean, and Sydney Sainté as Alix, who provides the much needed bits of sarcastic wit and comedy into what could otherwise end up being a show on the heavier side. 

If you are able to see Ballad Lines (the run ends 21st March 2026), I cannot recommend it enough

Just like the Ballads being passed on, the love for this show is rightly spreading across social media, and I really do hope it gets a further life: whether that be a West End transfer (the Ambassador's would be as perfect as it was for Benjamin Button), a tour, or a run in another part of the country. Not to be biased, but I think it would do perfectly in Lowry's Quays Theatre, or maybe even the Royal Exchange. 

But if you think Ballad Lines is up your street, have a listen to the studio album, and book yourself a ticket. Because this little show deserves to be seen by as many people as possible.