Interview: Writer Connor Allen on his new play ‘Forgiveness of a Monster’

Rhys John Edwards

Connor Allen has played himself before. First came The Making of a Monster, an autobiographical masterwork that was both a poetic dissection of identity and a high-octane grime musical. Then came its radio adaptation, which earned him the coveted Imison Award in 2023.

And now, in Forgiveness of a Monster, a rare theatrical sequel, he returns to the role, but consciously refers to it by name. It’s always “Connor,” and never “me”.

“The character needs to feel safe”

“On stage, it’s a hyper-version of yourself,” Connor explains. “It just has to be this over-analysed version of you because the character needs to feel safe, because obviously, if it’s unsafe, I’m not going to feel okay and then the audience aren’t going to feel okay…”

Lines have to be drawn. There’s the Connor of 2007, a teenager wrestling with anger in The Making of a Monster, and then there’s the Connor of his early adulthood, contemplating redemption in Forgiveness of a Monster. The Connor I sit down with today is neither. He’s something new.

“Growing up, everyone would be like ‘you look like your father’ – and so, when I was younger, I was always seeing my father in the mirror – but then I hit a point in my twenties where I didn’t see anything…”

“I guess now, to finally get outside of all that and to finally be able to see me… it creates this kind of separation.”

Born and raised in Newport, Connor trained as an actor but soon caught the writing bug. Developed through the Royal Court and BBC Writersroom schemes, he’s since turned his hand at just about all mediums, from prose and poetry to stage and screen. He was also the Children’s Poet Laureate for Wales between 2021 and 2023.

But he doesn’t seem to equate these creative outlets with his identity. Neither writing nor performing necessarily define him, and the fluid nature of his sense of self is still a key influence on his work.

“There has to be that kind of… dissection,” Connor says of making autobiographical work. “But you know, I’m not making a documentary. I’m making a piece of theatre.”

For Connor, the performance has to work on its own merit as an original drama, and ultimately, as a slice of entertainment.

‘How can we elevate it?’

Music is central to this. The Making of a Monster featured thrilling grime battles which totally captivated its audience and Connor wanted to build on this momentum in its sequel.

It was imperative that his use of music evolve with the story. “It’s like, where’s the maturity in this? How can we elevate it? I’m interested in how the bravado and energy of rhyme and rap clashes with vulnerability.”

The confidence that is inherent to grime feels different to the confidence it takes to open up in therapy, but Connor believes it is confidence all the same. It’s a collision but not a contradiction.

“The mic is kind of a therapist for the character but the music allows the emotional truth to land harder.”

He’s interested in ‘pulling the rug’ – and recalls being taught the power of using humour to draw people into a false sense of security before hitting them with something devastating.

“I spit, and you know, you see Connor – six-foot-two and brash and yeah, all those things – but I also cry. I also love. I’m also gentle. I’m multifaceted and I feel like grime can be an amalgamation of all that. It can land one way – but then I can pull the rug.”

“It starts with a question”

Like all his work, Forgiveness of a Monster started with a question: “Can I forgive my father?”

“All of it starts with a question,” Connor says of his process. “What are the questions I want to explore and distil down to find the humanity in?”

Before picking up the pen, he looks inward. But to actually fill the blank space, he has to first identify what is universal about what he finds.

“Because not every person is going to have an absent father. Not every person is light-skin mixed-race. So what is it about the story I want to tell that’s relatable?”

“Well, it’s: ‘where do I fit in?’ Like a new Mum who’s just given birth and is worried ‘are people going to look at me as a mother instead of a woman?’ It’s ‘where do I fit in now?’ That’s the element of what’s human about this.”

“Because once I hit that – and that’s what I’m always trying to aim for – that’s it.’

“Every person is going to take away an individual experience”

“My authenticity is my superpower,” he says, whilst recognising that sometimes the truth can be ugly. He tells me that there were walkouts during The Making of a Monster because of the controversial ground it covered.

“Some people walk out… and I get it. You can’t control it, you just can’t. Every person is going to take away an individual experience.”

Pretty diplomatic. But still, I’m surprised there were audience members capable of leaving. Yes, The Making of a Monster dealt with themes that some might find upsetting, but for me, the pure unadulterated energy of that performance made it practically impossible to blink, let alone walk away.

“You just never know what people are going through,” he shrugs, explaining that one of the main things he learnt from working on the production was to let himself off the hook when it comes to trying to anticipate or control audience reaction.

“It was a turning point for me, being like – just because I’ve created this show to say something specific, it doesn’t mean that everyone is going to react to it in the same way. And just because they’re not jumping up and down doesn’t mean they’re not enjoying it. Everyone enjoys things in their own way.”

“A chapter doesn’t have to define the entire book”

He genuinely doesn’t seem to mind or even be interested in audience reactions. Still, I push to see if there was one thing he at least hopes the audience might take away from the show.

“Empathy,” he says. “Not just for me, but for themselves. Like, empathy for humanity. We’re all humans, all chapters in a book of our life, and a chapter doesn’t have to define the entire book. I used to think what happened to me as a teenager was going to define my entire life…”

He pauses, with a self-deprecating smirk, adding “…he says, still making work about it!”

“But there’s just a lot more. There’s different chapters that come later.”

“I have empathy for my father now,” he says. “After all this time, I can forgive him because I eventually reached a point where I just understood that he was human and so am I.”

“It’s life and death”

Empathy does seem to be the whole point, the core of his work to date and something he intends to explore further in the future.

He has spoken openly about how he always envisaged the Monster series as a trilogy, citing Dr Dre’s advice to a young Kendrick Lamar about how he should approach making albums.

“He said you should aim to make a classic, a blockbuster and a masterpiece.”

Forgiveness is Connor’s blockbuster, but not in elevated action, in stakes.

“The stakes of this play – that’s the blockbuster – because Connor’s soul is on the line. The scale of that is huge. It’s life and death.”

“Nothing can compute that feeling”

When we meet, he’s currently deep in the process of translating the script to stage, with rehearsals well underway.

Work is still ongoing on realising part two, and yet, I can’t quite resist bringing up the prospect of part three, his ‘masterpiece’.

He confirms, without giving too much away, that yes, he still plans to follow Dr Dre’s method. But what new ground could this cover?

“I just had a daughter, so it’s going to be that,” he beams. “She’s my masterpiece.”

“It’s honestly the most beautiful feeling in the world. Nothing can compute that feeling. I don’t even believe in perfection, but I look at her and I’m like, you’re perfect.”

So, his masterpiece has to be lived before it can be written. The questions first need to be asked and the humanity in them needs to be found.

But in whatever form, it seems like the follow up will be about the Connor I’m meeting today, but only when he has become distant enough to become a role that another Connor has decided it’s time to step in and play.

Forgiveness of a Monster is playing at the Sherman Theatre in Cardiff from 8 – 23 May 2026.

For more information, visit: https://www.shermantheatre.co.uk/event/forgiveness-of-a-monster/