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Review: How Not To Fund A Honeymoon Delivers Chaotic Dark Comedy

  • London Theatre Doc
  • Aug 11
  • 2 min read
Text on shattered glass reads "How Not to Fund a Honeymoon." Includes names: Stephanie Greenwood, Colette Hamilton. Dark background. Feuille Dooley Productions.

Absurd, magnetic, and gloriously unhinged, How Not To Fund A Honeymoon is the kind of dark comedy that sweeps you up and refuses to let go. It follows broke couple Charlotte and Gwen, newly engaged and standing outside Aunt Gwen’s door with a rock in hand. Do they truly understand what this elegant yet dangerous woman is capable of, or the treasures she might be hiding inside? One thing is certain… she is in Corfu.


Written by Stephanie Greenwood, who delivers a deliciously unhinged performance as the blood-soaked, silk-clad Aunt Gwen, the play pits her against the hapless couple, played by Claire Feuille (who along with Josh Dooley are Tony-nominated co-producers of Broadway’s Operation Mincemeat) and Ausette Anderies. Greenwood’s Gwen blends the immaculate poise of Bree Van de Kamp with the quiet menace of a Hitchcock villain, each line delivered with razor-sharp precision and unnerving charm.


The writing is unapologetically silly, leaning into Monty Python style detours on etiquette, age, and formal address. At times, these tangents risk tipping the story from quirky into outright ludicrous, but they also give the production its distinctive personality. Feuille and Anderies keep the comedy grounded, with Feuille’s sharp timing and Anderies’ physicality adding moments that land just as strongly as Greenwood’s big flourishes.


Pacing wise, the stakes remain high from start to finish, but the brevity of the piece leaves you craving a little more time in its offbeat world. The ending, in particular, arrives with the theatrical equivalent of a sudden blackout, an abrupt close that startles, entertains, and slightly frustrates in equal measure. It is almost as if the curtain falls mid-laugh, daring you to imagine what might have happened next.

The result is a tight, darkly comic romp that is at turns ridiculous, unsettling, and genuinely funny. It rewards audiences who embrace its absurdity and surrender to its anarchic energy. Sometimes the best nights at the theatre are the ones where you let the madness win.


★★★

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