Who gets to write the rules? It is a bitter irony that Monopoly—the world’s most famous celebration of capitalism—was originally designed as a socialist warning. Lizzie Magie invented ‘The Landlord’s Game’ to expose greedy landlords, only to watch her creation co-opted, stripped of its politics, and sold back to the masses by men in suits. In Do Not Pass Go, physical theatre company Jordan & Skinner try to steal Magie’s legacy back. It is a noble, energetic effort that mostly pays off.
Directed by Caitlin Skinner, the production treats history as a high-speed cabaret. We learn remarkably little about Magie’s inner life, as the sheer volume of comedy edges out her biography. It is a fair trade-off; rather than plumbing emotional depths, the focus rests on exactly how she was erased. Performers Melanie Jordan, Amy Helena, and Diane Thornton operate as a furious trio of clowns and historical ghosts, unpacking economic theories by hurling furniture around the Citizens Theatre stage.
Tables and chairs are rapidly rebuilt to represent precarious housing, looming boardrooms, and the crushing weight of debt. When the cast fully commits to this clowning, the satire is razor-sharp. Charles Darrow, the man who made Monopoly famous, is lampooned as a slick pantomime grifter, while the Parker Brothers manifest as ravenous corporate ghouls. The physical comedy does the heavy lifting here. It is loud, and it works.
However, the show struggles to maintain that forward momentum. Despite a brief 75-minute runtime, it still feels a little too long. Comedic setups stretch past their natural endpoint, and certain lines repeat with a lecturing tone that feels unnecessary. When a sketch overstays its welcome, the anarchic energy sags, revealing a narrative that needs a stricter edit. The political bite simply softens when a joke is made three times over.



A Bilingual Stage
The most ambitious choice in Do Not Pass Go is its language. British Sign Language is woven directly into the action. Helena, Jordan, and Thornton fuse spoken English, sign, and mime into a shared physical vocabulary.
When it aligns, the results are thrilling, allowing the signing to drive the rhythm of the scene rather than just translating it. Yet, the execution isn’t flawless. During high-energy moments, spoken dialogue clashes with frantic physical action, creating a cluttered soundscape. The noble attempt to make the staging fully accessible occasionally creates a sensory traffic jam, losing sharp plot points in the noise.
“The most ambitious choice in Do Not Pass Go is its language. British Sign Language is woven directly into the action. Helena, Jordan, and Thornton fuse spoken English, sign, and mime into a shared physical vocabulary.”
Visually, Simon Hayes’s lighting grounds the wilder moments, carving out arenas that mirror a game board. Overhead projection smartly feeds the audience running text and historical context without stopping the action. This keeps us connected to the real-world timeline, even as the performances spin into absurdity.
Ultimately, Do Not Pass Go is a vibrant, occasionally messy reclaiming of stolen history. If the pacing falters under its own invention, the sheer grit and infectious charm of the cast carry the evening. It is a politically urgent piece of theatre that refuses to play by the rules. The bank might always win in the end. But here, finally, Lizzie Magie gets her turn.
Featured Image: Diane Thornton, Amy Helena, Melanie Jordan – Do Not Pass Go production shot 01 – Credit_ Mihaela Bodlovic















