Image Credit: Gemma Barnett, photographed by Nina Maria Allmoslechner.

Actor, writer and poet Gemma Barnett heads to Soho Theatre with Revenge: After The Levoyah – a sharply funny, steadily escalating two-hander about fear, manipulation and the frightening ease with which collective hysteria can take hold. Playing one of two ordinary people pulled into extraordinary political absurdity, Gemma brings warmth, wit and moral clarity to a show that asks who gets radicalised, and why. Alongside her stage work, she continues to write: her acclaimed short film Bridge – drawn from her time working in a health centre during the pandemic – screens at the BFI on 5 December. Looking ahead, Gemma is shaping new poetry, new ideas, and, when asked about her hopes – she replies: Zack Polanski seems cool.

If we wind the clock right back – to your earliest spark of creative expression – what did young-Gemma first reach for? Was it language, performance, mischief, observation, or something stranger? And now that you work across acting, writing and poetry, if you had to distil all your art-forms into one core ingredient, what would it be?

According to my mum from a very young age I was often the mediator in situations or the one that teachers called upon to try to resolve a conflict. I’d like to think that’s because I found different perspectives on things interesting. But I wonder if it would be more accurate to say that I enjoyed the chaos. I’ve grown out of that now thank god. I also remember a straight haired, red wig I loved and my total obsession with The Little Mermaid. I wonder if that spoke to a sense of disappearing. I enjoyed disappearing into other worlds and characters.

Which is funny because if you’re asking me for one core ingredient now I think it would probably be the opposite. The work I’m most drawn to making/performing always seeks to better understand myself, the world, people – in an exposing way.

Image Credit: Promotional photograph for ‘Revenge: After The Levoyah’, with Gemma Barnett and Charlie Cassen.

Revenge: After The Levoyah asks audiences to laugh right up against something profoundly serious. How did this story first take hold of you, and what were the creative conversations with the team that shaped its tone – part political farce, part psychological warning flare?

I think you answered that for me in your first statement! When I read the first iteration (which was only 15 minutes) the thing I was most struck by was how funny it was. And then how Nick [Cassenbaum, the writer] used that as a way of broaching radically ‘political’ conversations. This whole show has got me thinking about humour in a new way. How we literally have to open our mouths to laugh. Maybe there’s something about that that means things go in. I don’t know. A question that very often came up in the development process was ‘what’s the funniest option?’ I think that’s a great thing to ask most of the time as long as it still serves the story.

I think what the show does so well is it grounds us in a very real world with very real people. And those people are held and played with warmth and understanding. That’s where the humour first comes from. The absurdity builds and it’s the entrances of the geopolitical representatives that don’t need that same tenderness. I think that speaks to a big message of the play in that so often peoples’ fears are manipulated by those in power. We punch up but we don’t punch down.

The show confronts antisemitism not as a distant threat but as something creeping, familiar, sometimes disarmingly banal. How did you navigate the responsibility of performing inside a narrative that balances humour and harm, and what conversations were essential in making sure the satire still lands with moral precision?

I think, similarly, leading with truth as a performer is often a way of navigating that responsibility. Humour and harm in the real word are often entangled. The main scene in the show that deals with antisemitism in a very clear and direct way was rehearsed and directed by Emma with a real focus on portraying truth. It almost feels like a suspension with how it changes the pace and rhythm. And it is from there that the rest of the action snowballs. I think separating harm from humour in the real world is impossible because they are so intertwined. Trump in office I guess makes that very clear. In art I think the main question to always, always be asking is ‘who are we laughing at?‘

Image Credit: Gemma Barnett, in rehearsal for ‘Revenge: After The Levoyah’.

At its core, Revenge: After The Levoyah is about collective hysteria – the way fear, rage and misinformation can snowball into catastrophe. What have you observed in audiences, or in Britain today, that makes this story feel so urgent? And is comedy a pressure-valve, a mirror, or both?

That people can’t tell when they are being manipulated for somebody else’s benefit and that the press has a lot to answer for.

Both. But I’m sure it depends who you ask. I’ve been fascinated by how this show has landed so differently depending on the person.

This is a tightly crafted two-hander. What have you learned from the choreography of performing so closely with your fellow actor – the timing, the politics, the emotional tightrope – and what has the company behind the show meant to you creatively?

That trust is everything! If one of you drops the ball, the other is on it! I’ve been so stupidly lucky to work with two actors who are so brilliant they’ve made me better! A joy and a gift. My current co-performer Charlie is also just such a great guy to have in a room. Sometimes I think that’s more important on jobs like this. We have fun together! Get on! And also want the show to be the best it can be. Charlie is one of the hardest workers I’ve met. I couldn’t have asked for more really.

I actually can’t quite put into words what this company has meant to me. It’s been a community these last few years that without, I think I’d feel very differently about being Jewish. I have often gone to Emma to sum up how I feel about a thing I’ve read in the news because her brain is SO impressive, she is so articulate and knowledgeable, she’s been able to offer me the words that I was looking for. Everyone is so bloody good at what they do professionally but they are also brave, brilliant and deeply FUNNY people. I love them.

Film Credit: Trailer for ‘Bridge’. Written by Gemma Barnett. Directed by Tara Aghdashloo.

Turning to Bridge: it’s a beautifully intimate short, and one that carries your distinctive poetic clarity. What drew you to write it, and how was the collaboration with director Tara Aghdashloo – what did she unlock in the piece that surprised you?

I wrote Bridge because I was working as a GP receptionist during the pandemic and felt like everything and everyone was at the height of an emotional register all the time. My relationship had ended for multiple reasons but one of them was over the question of kids – my not being ready for/wanting them. I then ended up working on the Baby Clinic, weighing and measuring 8 week old babies and sitting with new mums. I couldn’t stop thinking about all things motherhood, loss and connection. Specifically the connection between women and AFAB people [Assigned Female at Birth]. That has been a very healing space for me – both romantically and platonically.

Collaborating with Tara is what made Bridge everything it is. There are some directors that have a very clear vision and aesthetic and some directors that are great at working with actors. Very rarely do you find someone like Tara who can do absolutely everything. She approached every shot, every scene with such poeticism and precision. And acting for her on set was so liberating. I remember shooting the flashback scenes with her and we almost ditched the script and completely improvised. She created such a safe and focused environment. It got the very best out of everyone. I am so proud of what we made together and will never not cry watching it.

Image Credit: Gemma Barnett, in rehearsal for ‘Revenge: After The Levoyah’, photographed by Alex Brenner.

For our readers: which three London spaces, venues or creative communities feel like “home” to you – the places you return to when you need to be sparked, held, challenged or restored?

I think I’m going to use this space to say Camden People’s Theatre is one of my favourite fringe venues that has such a strong ethos and commitment to supporting artists. It needs financial support – so if you are reading this go and check it out.

I think my creative community is (sadly & not sadly) less to do with venues and more to do with people. I am so lucky to have consistently met people in my career and education that I have continued to work with and seek the guidance of. It is so motivating to have a bunch of friends, who I also admire artistically, that I can text ‘hey I’ve written this thing – is it shit?’

And finally – looking toward 2026. On the micro level: what are you personally excited to grow, make or discover next? And on the macro: what are your hopes for the arts, for the stories we give space to, and for the kind of Britain you’d like to see taking shape?

I’m working on a poetry collection at the moment with the Genesis & JLF Emerging Writers Programme. That is feeling very creatively fulfilling alongside acting work.

Wow what a huge question. I guess my hopes for the industry would be: more funding & more risks!!!

As for Britain – too much to say but Zack Polanski seems cool.

Find Gemma on Instagram @gemlbarn

See ‘Bridge‘
Screened as part of the 7th 225 Film Club
Fri, 5 Dec, 17:30-22:30
BFI Southbank
Tickets via eventbrite.co.uk

Revenge: After The Levoyah
Soho Theatre,
21 Dean Street, London W1D 3NE
Mon, 8 Dec 2025 – Sat, 24 Jan 2026, 20:00
sohotheatre.com