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Anna Kennedy on lines ambassador Kieron Lee on the Assembly .

The Assembly: Kieron Lee Brings the Room to Tears in a Moment of Pure Television Gold

The Assembly has built a reputation for doing something television rarely dares to attempt—stripping away the polish, the PR filters, and the rehearsed answers to reveal something altogether more human. In last week’s episode, aired on 10 April, that raw authenticity reached a powerful crescendo, thanks to Anna Kennedy Online ambassador Kieron Lee, whose emotional performance for Nicola Sturgeon left not only the former First Minister visibly moved, but much of the audience in tears.

Anna Kennedy Online charity ambassador Mr. Kieron Lee makes a memorable debut in Episode 2 of ITV’s powerful and thought-provoking series, featuring Nicola Sturgeon. Over the past few months, he has been filming for The Assembly, stepping into a format that is as challenging as it is rewarding. The episode is available now on ITVX, or viewers can tune in on ITV, where it sits comfortably alongside some of the channel’s biggest primetime programming.

For those familiar with Kieron Lee, this moment will come as no surprise. An EDM/R&B producer and artist with a gift for blending vulnerability with musical precision, Kieron has long had the ability to stop a room in its tracks. I first witnessed that magic myself during Autism’s Got Talent, where his performance carried the same emotional weight—quietly building, then landing with a resonance that lingers long after the final note.

Kieron’s journey with Anna Kennedy Online dates back to 2016, when he contributed his track Letting Go to the charity’s debut album Building Bridges. Since then, his career has steadily grown, with his debut album Acronyms reaching listeners in over 100 countries on Spotify. Importantly, his work continues to give back, with each project donating a portion of proceeds to the charity—a reflection of both his talent and his integrity.

But The Assembly is not a typical stage, and this was not a typical performance.

The ITV series turns the traditional interview format on its head. In this episode, Nicola Sturgeon is interviewed by a panel of autistic and learning-disabled contributors who ask honest, fearless, and uncompromising questions. The discussion moves seamlessly between the personal and the political—covering everything from her separation from her husband to her least favourite politicians, her arrest, and even her love life. Nothing is off-limits, and that is precisely what gives the programme its edge.

Kieron Lee was not simply there to observe. He was part of that panel—an active voice shaping the tone of the conversation. Reflecting on the experience, he described it as “surreal” and something he will treasure for the rest of his life. It also marked a significant personal milestone: his first time travelling to London alone, stepping far outside his comfort zone and into a completely new environment.

Then came the moment that would define the episode.

Closing the programme, Kieron delivered a moving duet of Dignity by Deacon Blue. It was a choice that felt both poignant and perfectly pitched—its themes of aspiration and quiet resilience echoing the spirit of the show itself.

Kieron Lee always a standing ovation.

“Performing for Nicola Sturgeon was an honour,” he said. “Her warmth and genuineness were so admirable.”

What makes this moment even more remarkable is what viewers did not see. Kieron had been incredibly unwell in the hours leading up to filming. “I was sick twice before going on,” he revealed, “and when I got home, I was bedridden all week with a terrible flu.” Yet despite this, he stepped forward and delivered a performance that resonated deeply with everyone in the room.

There was no artifice—just honesty, courage, and talent.

As the final notes faded, Nicola Sturgeon was visibly emotional, and she was not alone. Across the room, there was a shared sense that something special had taken place. It was one of those rare television moments that cannot be manufactured—only felt.

For Kieron, the experience was about more than performance. “Being part of a project that gives a voice to people who often feel unheard is something I strive to do in other areas of my life through music,” he said. “To see that come to life on mainstream television has been truly life-changing.”

He also paid tribute to the production team behind the series, describing The Assembly as “an exceptional piece of television, with a beautiful cast,” and expressing his gratitude for being invited to take part in its second series.

This is precisely why programmes like The Assembly matter. In an era of over-produced content, it offers something refreshingly real—championing neurodiverse voices, creating unscripted moments, and breaking down barriers between public figures and the public.

Kieron Lee’s appearance embodies all of that. He was not there to perform for someone in the traditional sense—he was there as an equal, a voice, a presence. And yet, when the moment called for it, he delivered something unforgettable.

At Anna Kennedy Online, there is immense pride in all that Kieron continues to achieve. His journey is not only inspiring but deeply meaningful, reflecting the very ethos of the charity.

And the story does not end here.

Kieron is set to perform at the Autism Hero Awards on 9 May 2026—an event that continues to celebrate extraordinary individuals within the autism community. If his appearance on The Assembly is anything to go by, it will be a performance not to be missed.

The episode is available now on ITVX and across digital platforms.

Just be prepared—this is television that doesn’t just entertain. It moves you.

https://www.itv.com/watch/the-assembly/10a6350/10a6350a0008

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1272981491000254

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Riot Women — BBC’s Surprising Triumph of Grit, Wit and Pure Heart

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Riot Women — BBC’s Surprising Triumph of Grit, Wit and Pure Heart

There are times when you arrive home after a long day, craving nothing more profound than a cosy half-hour of television fluff — something light, comforting, and easy to disappear into. On the surface, Riot Women looks like exactly that: a vibrant title card, bold artwork, and a show pitched squarely at those who love a dash of spectacle. It would be very easy to hit play expecting a breezy, perhaps even camp, comedy-drama and settle back with a cup of tea.

But Riot Women is not that show. Not remotely.

If you only watch the first ten minutes, you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve been misled. The opening is stark, intense, and packed with enough emotional punch to make even the most resilient viewer mutter, “Oh no… this is going to be depressing,” and reach for the remote.

Yet turning it off would be a terrible mistake.

Because Riot Women quickly reveals itself to be television gold — unexpected, daring, and absolutely bursting with life.

At the centre of this explosive drama-comedy hybrid are the phenomenal Rosalie Craig and Joanna Scanlan, leading an ensemble cast that delivers performances of a calibre you rarely find in mainstream television. Between them, they light up the screen with such power and honesty you can’t look away. Rosalie Craig, especially, is a revelation. Known for her formidable stage presence in musical theatre, she brings the full breadth of her talent to this role: vocally electrifying and dramatically fearless, she swings from raw vulnerability to razor-sharp humour with impossible ease. It’s the kind of performance awards are invented for — at the very least, she deserves a BAFTA nomination.

Joanna Scanlan matches her beat for beat, offering a portrayal that is quietly astonishing — subtle, grounded, and capable of landing an entire emotional narrative with one look. Together, they create a dynamic that makes the story feel not just relevant but necessary.

Of course, no great television series exists without a masterful hand guiding it from the page. Here, that hand belongs to Sally Wainwright, one of Britain’s most exceptional screenwriters. Her voice is unmistakable: sharp, deeply empathetic, and rooted in the lived truths of women who refuse to be sidelined. Wainwright balances humour and heartbreak like a tightrope walker, proving again — as she did with Happy Valley and Last Tango in Halifax — that she knows exactly how to capture complicated, flawed, brilliant female characters. And then there’s Tamsin Greig, whose incomparable screen presence adds yet another layer of brilliance. Whether she’s delivering a deadpan line or revealing quiet vulnerability beneath stoic armour, Greig commands attention every moment she’s on screen. She becomes one of the show’s beating hearts — a character you’re compelled to follow, even in her silences.

What truly distinguishes Riot Women is its emotional honesty. The series dives into the frustrations, absurdities, and injustices faced by women whose lives haven’t gone according to plan — yet it refuses to let despair take the lead. Just when the narrative feels like it’s sinking into darkness, the humour kicks in. And not just comic relief for the sake of it — we’re talking whip-smart, laugh-out-loud writing delivered with perfect timing.

The absurdity is part of the point. Life can be relentless — but it can also be ridiculous.

The tone may zigzag, but that unpredictability is what makes the experience so exhilarating. One moment you’re laughing; the next you’re wiping away tears; then suddenly you’re cheering these women on as they find their voices and reclaim their stories. It’s a celebration of community, resilience, and rebellion — the quiet kind and the loud kind.

Yes, it can be camp — gloriously so — but never cheaply. The humour always comes from a place of truth. And through the satire, the show provides a sharp commentary on how society treats women who dare to age, to feel, to be imperfect, or to speak up.

The writing is confident and bold, unafraid of pushing boundaries. Each episode leaves you with a question — and a burning curiosity for what comes next. It is a story about what happens when ordinary women decide they’re done being polite and invisible. When they realise they have power. When they riot — not violently, but vocally, musically, and emotionally.

To call Riot Women a gem feels too small. It’s a series that arrives disguised as a guilty pleasure but reveals itself to be a gutsy, heartfelt, and beautifully crafted piece of British drama. It’s television that matters — without losing its sense of fun.

So if you begin watching and feel the instinct to switch over: don’t. Give it time. Let it breathe. Stick with the journey.

Because what you find is something rare: a show that reminds you we are all allowed to feel broken — and also allowed to dance, shout, laugh, and reclaim joy, whatever age we are.

Riot Women is bold. It’s brilliant. And it’s absolutely worth your time.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episodes/m002hd7x/riot-women