
By Grace Hatchell, pondering my life.
Channel Surfing at the End of Days will run at the Hen & Chickens Theatre in London from 20–25 April 2026, with a press night on Wednesday 22 April at 7.30pm.
Written and directed by Callum Pardoe, the new apocalyptic anthology is inspired by the works of David Lynch and Joy Division, presenting a series of characters in their final moments before an unknown event brings life on Earth to an end.
The production explores humanity through a collection of strange, unsettling and emotional snapshots, capturing fleeting moments of beauty, silliness and heartache as the world unknowingly approaches its final reckoning.
The cast includes Eleanor Cobb, Matt Williams, Natasha Mula and Joe Stanton, with technical design and operation by Benedict Case.
Produced by grassroots company Friends of David, the show reflects their commitment to bold, uncompromising artistic work influenced by movements such as Dadaism, Surrealism and the French New Wave, favouring emotional and subconscious storytelling over commercial convention.
Performances take place nightly at 7.30pm, with tickets priced at £17.50.
This is a piece that leans into atmosphere and feeling, inviting audiences to experience fragments of humanity at its most vulnerable, strange and reflective.
Now then… I don’t know about you, but I was just sat there minding my own business, flicking through the channels, when this one landed in the satchel.
You know those nights. Telly on, but you’re not really watching anything. Just drifting. One programme to the next. Bit of this, bit of that… nothing quite sticking.
And then suddenly… something does.
Something a bit odd. A bit off. The sort of thing where you pause, tilt your head slightly, and think, “hang on… what is this?”
That’s exactly the feeling this one gives me.
A whole collection of moments, people going about their lives, completely unaware of what’s coming. There’s something strangely haunting about that, isn’t there? The idea that everything feels normal… right up until it isn’t.
And I do like a piece that doesn’t spell everything out for you. The mention of David Lynch alone tells you this isn’t going to be neat and tidy. This is the sort of theatre that lingers, that leaves you thinking long after you’ve left your seat… or in my case, long after I’ve turned the telly off and stared at the blank screen for a moment too long.
It’s a bit eerie, really.
Even now, I’ve started looking at the room around me slightly differently. The quiet. The flicker of the screen. The sense that something’s just… about to happen.
I did turn over in the end, mind. Put something a bit lighter on. You’ve got to be careful what you watch before bed.
Still… I’ve tucked this one into the satchel with a little note attached: “Approach with curiosity… and maybe leave a lamp on.”
Just in case.






