Tru – Menier Chocolate Factory, London

4/5 stars

This was our third visit to the Menier Chocolate Factory, a theatre we’ve only discovered relatively recently, and I have to say, it’s rapidly becoming one of my favourite smaller London venues. Tucked away near London Bridge, it’s a little removed from the traditional West End, but with excellent transport links and the Bridge Theatre nearby, it’s well worth making the journey.

Our previous visits were for Equus and Midnight in the Never Get, two completely different productions that were extraordinary in their own ways. I thought Equus was phenomenal, while Midnight in the Never Get created this wonderfully atmospheric New York nightclub setting, with Ben Platt’s singing being quite something else.

Now we have Tru, and once again the Menier has managed to surprise me.

Written by Jay Presson Allen and directed by Rob Ashford, Tru takes us into the New York apartment of legendary American writer and socialite Truman Capote, played by Jesse Tyler Ferguson.

It’s December 1975, and Capote finds himself increasingly isolated following the publication of extracts from his unfinished novel Answered Prayers, which exposed the private lives of some of his wealthy and influential friends. The very people who had once welcomed him into their exclusive social circles are now rather less enthusiastic about his company. What follows is an evening of celebrity gossip, personal reflections, fabulous name-dropping and occasional glimpses of the rather more vulnerable man behind the public persona.

But before I get to Ferguson’s performance, I need to talk about the set because this set is absolutely extraordinary. The man responsible is Paul Farnsworth, and I genuinely hope he’s got a very large mantelpiece, because if there’s any justice, he’s going to need somewhere to put all the awards.

Having now visited the Menier three times, I struggle to believe it’s the same building. For Equus, we had a relatively traditional theatrical arrangement. Midnight in the Never Get transformed the venue into an intimate, atmospheric nightclub. But Tru takes things to another level entirely.

The whole theatre has been transformed into Capote’s apartment, and when I say the whole theatre, I really do mean it. The transformation begins as you enter the venue and continues right through into the performance space. The usual banked seating has disappeared. Instead, there are armchairs, sofas, tables and furniture arranged throughout the room. Bookshelves are filled, pictures decorate the walls, and even the ceiling has been treated to resemble the interior of an elegant apartment. It doesn’t feel as though somebody has built a set inside a theatre. It feels as though you’ve walked into somebody’s home.

Everywhere you look, there’s another little detail. I’ve seen some incredible theatrical designs over the years, but this is genuinely one of the best. I can only imagine the amount of work, creativity and money involved in making it happen.

Whoever approved the budget deserves some credit too. This clearly wasn’t a production where somebody suggested a couple of chairs and a bookshelf would probably do.

There’s a lot of discussion about immersive theatre these days, and what actually qualifies as immersive. For me, this is a pretty good example of how to get it right.

You don’t necessarily need performers running around you or dragging you into the action. Sometimes creating an environment so convincing that you forget you’re sitting in a theatre is enough. The apartment becomes a character in its own right, telling you something about Capote before he’s even opened his mouth.

Then there’s Jesse Tyler Ferguson. What a performance. We’d previously seen Ferguson at the National Theatre’s Lyttelton in Here We Are, Stephen Sondheim’s final musical, directed by Joe Mantello, where he played Paul Zimmer alongside Jane Krakowski, Rory Kinnear and Martha Plimpton.

I thought Ferguson was good in that production, but I have to admit I didn’t particularly connect with the musical itself. It was one of those shows where I could appreciate the talent on stage without necessarily enjoying what I was watching. As a result, I don’t think I fully appreciated quite how good Ferguson was. Well, Tru has certainly changed that.

His portrayal of Truman Capote is remarkable. From the distinctive voice and mannerisms to the way he moves around the apartment, Ferguson seems to completely inhabit the character. There were moments when I genuinely felt as though I was sitting in Capote’s living room, listening to him recount stories about his extraordinary life. He doesn’t simply deliver dialogue to an audience. He talks to you, acknowledges you and makes you feel included in the conversation.

That’s quite an achievement in a production so heavily dependent on one performer’s ability to hold everyone’s attention. His characterisation is funny, occasionally outrageous and, at times, surprisingly revealing. Ferguson makes it look almost effortless, although I suspect it’s anything but. I could quite happily have spent another hour in his company.

Which brings me to my one reservation about the production. The script. I could see what the play was trying to achieve, but I wasn't entirely convinced it went far enough. Perhaps we're simply meant to spend an evening in Truman Capote's company, enjoying the gossip, the extraordinary name-dropping and the occasional glimpse of the man behind the public persona. There's certainly pleasure in that, particularly with Ferguson delivering the material so brilliantly.

But beneath all the gossip and name-dropping is a deeply lonely, insecure man whose place in society depends on the approval of a rather fickle circle of friends. Capote is hardly an innocent victim in all this, of course. He's played his own part in destroying the relationships he depends upon, seemingly in a desperate attempt to remain relevant. There's something quite tragic about that, and I wish the script had explored the consequences a little further. We hear plenty about the scandal and the personalities involved, but just as things become emotionally interesting, we're whisked off to another entertaining anecdote. I wanted to discover a little more about the man behind the performance and the personal impact of his extraordinary life.

The production also introduces a second character, The Swan, played by Charlotte d'Amboise during the earlier part of the run. I could understand what the character was intended to represent, particularly in relation to the women who played such an important part in Capote's life, but I wasn't entirely convinced the device worked dramatically. Perhaps the occasional interruption also gives Ferguson a welcome opportunity to catch his breath, which, considering the amount of dialogue he's delivering, would be understandable. Even Truman Capote presumably stopped talking occasionally. For me, though, the character didn't add quite enough to justify the interruption to what was otherwise such an engaging performance.

Overall, though, Tru reminded me that theatre isn’t just about the words, or a script. It’s about what happens when performance, direction, design and atmosphere come together to create something you couldn’t experience in quite the same way anywhere else.

And on that front, Tru is a triumph.

I’ve been fortunate enough to see some spectacular productions in London’s biggest theatres, but this relatively small venue has managed to create something that eclipses many of them.

Ferguson and Farnsworth both deserve the highest praise, and although the script stops me from awarding the production five stars, it's still an evening of theatre I'd wholeheartedly recommend.

Seen on 21/10/2026

★★★★ – 4 out of 5 stars

Accessibility – Menier Chocolate Factory

The Menier Chocolate Factory is a wonderful little theatre, and having visited three times now, I’ve generally found the staff friendly, welcoming and genuinely keen to help.

However, there are two accessibility issues worth mentioning, one practical and one involving a ticketing policy that I really struggle to understand.

Wheelchair users can't book accessible spaces online. Instead, you need to contact the box office by telephone or email. I understand why smaller theatres with limited accessible seating might operate this way, but it would be nice to see online booking introduced eventually.

What I find more concerning is the theatre's approach to companion tickets. When booking, you're asked whether the person accompanying you is a paid or unpaid carer.

Now, I appreciate this might be a slightly niche personal view, but I have a real problem with that distinction. The explanation given to me by the box office manager was that somebody already paying for care shouldn't also have to pay for their carer's theatre ticket. I understand the thinking behind that, and I'm sure the intention is a good one, but I don't think it reflects the reality of how assistance works for many disabled people.

Like many others, I often rely on friends, partners or family members to provide care. And this is hardly unusual, according to the 2021 Census, there were approximately 4.7 million unpaid carers in England. Research published in 2023 by Carers UK and the Centre for Care estimated that the economic value of care provided by unpaid carers in England and Wales at an extraordinary £162 billion annually.

That's an enormous contribution, particularly when you consider that many unpaid carers have to reduce their working hours or give up employment altogether. So just because somebody isn't being paid to provide care doesn't mean that care comes without a cost. And on a more personal level, I might pay for someone's theatre ticket, cover their travel or buy them something to eat.

Additionally, in my own experience, funded care can be extremely limited, often covering essential daily activities such as washing, dressing and preparing meals. A four-hour trip to the theatre in central London isn't necessarily something those arrangements accommodate. Indeed, finding a paid professional willing and available to provide that assistance in the evening can be quite a challenge in itself.

If a disabled person has a recognised need for an essential companion, why should it matter whether that companion is paid, unpaid, a friend or a family member? The need for assistance remains exactly the same. Surely an Access Card with the appropriate companion symbol, or other recognised documentation confirming that requirement, should be sufficient?

Most theatres I've visited have a consistent companion-ticket policy for people with a recognised access need, and I don't recall previously being asked to explain the employment arrangements of the person accompanying me. I'd be interested to know whether disabled theatre users were consulted when this particular policy was introduced.

Anyway, getting off my soapbox and moving on to the practicalities...

Due to refurbishment work, the accessible entrance is currently through the courtyard, although you need to present yourself at the main entrance first. There's a fairly tight turn to negotiate through two doors. It's manageable in my power chair, although it does require a little care and precision.

Once inside, the staff are extremely helpful, and wheelchair spaces are arranged according to the production’s seating layout. For Tru, the usual auditorium has been completely transformed, so the seating arrangement is quite different from previous visits.

The other issue is the accessible toilet. As the theatre is currently undergoing redevelopment work, access to the toilet involves a temporary ramp that I found rather steep. The ramp also felt slightly flexible under the weight of my power chair, despite mine not being particularly heavy. That made me uncomfortable, and I’d be cautious about using it with a larger or heavier power chair. Manual wheelchair users may also find the gradient difficult. Personally, I’ve taken to using the toilet before arriving because it’s simply easier. There is a Novotel nearby which has an accessible toilet, although I’d recommend checking availability and whether non-guests can use it rather than relying on it.

I’ve been assured that the redevelopment should improve access to the theatre’s toilet facilities. I haven’t been given a confirmed completion date, so hopefully we’ll see those improvements sooner rather than later.

I really do like the Menier Chocolate Factory. It’s an intimate, characterful venue that consistently stages interesting and ambitious productions, and the staff I’ve encountered have been lovely. The toilet arrangements are hopefully temporary. The ticketing policy, however, is something the theatre could choose to reconsider now and I really hope it does.

This is a theatre I’d happily return to again and again. It has already given me three very different and memorable experiences, and I suspect there will be plenty more. It’s definitely worth keeping an eye on its upcoming productions.

The content, experiences and opinions are all mine. Due to an acquired brain injury my spelling, grammar and sentence structure sometimes need a little helping hand. The thoughts are original, human and entirely my own—the tidying up isn’t!