Review – What the Butler Saw, Vaudeville Theatre

Was it a cigar or a phallus?

Edna Welthorpe (Mrs) would not have enjoyed the post-show discussion following the Whingers’ visit to the Vaudeville Theatre to see a preview of What the Butler Saw for the Whingers found themselves mired in struggles to recall the ins and outs of Winston Churchill’s private member vis a vis the Lord Chamberlain.

Review – Detroit, National Theatre

Suburbia. Two neighbouring gardens: one smart (so we’re told), one tatty and unkempt. Patio doors that won’t slide properly and garden furniture and half-laid decking that are going to cause someone an injury. Two barbecues that reflect the different financial and social status of two neigbouring couples. That’s when neighbours become good friends.

Sounds like Alan Ayckbourn territory, doesn’t it? Except we’re in Detroit. Except we’re not: we’re in “a ‘first-ring’ suburb of a mid-sized American city’.

Review – Black T-shirt Collection, National Theatre

Not wishing to be pilloried yet again for being culturally insensitive, the Whingers chickened out of using their tickets for Black T-Shirt Collection in case they didn’t like it and said so. So they gave them to their friend Nina instead: 

Review – I Dreamed a Dream

The “fairy tale” (a phrase uttered about 20 times) story of the very public transformation of a slightly odd, socially awkward, middle aged Scottish virgin to global singing sensation is understandably irresistible.

So it’s a shame that in I Dreamed a Dream the odd, socially awkward Susan Boyle has been replaced with an “inner” Susan Boyle and that Elaine C Smith – while in possession of an excellent singing voice – is not a singing sensation.

The result is the rather pedestrian story of an ordinary woman with an ordinary life who (eventually) wins a talent competition and becomes famous.

There is a lovely sequence set in a local club in which – in terrifying echoes of Andrew’s youth – people dance the Slosh to “Una Paloma Blanca” and Andy Gray does a quite accomplished turn as an overly entertaining karaoke host. But this has only very occasional moments of joy and/or inventiveness – notably a toe-tapping rendition of “Stuck in the Middle with You” by a line of Britain’s Got Talent contestants waiting to go on.

You know you’re in trouble when the cast have to dance on with coloured balloons indicating happiness. They were singing “Perfect Day” anyway, even Phil had got the gist of that one.

But the really tantalising (to us) stuff is only alluded to: the surreality of Demi Moore’s involvement in sending Ms Boyle “viral” and the idea that far from rubbing their hands with glee the BGT mandarins were panicking over the loss of control over an otherwise well-engineered story.

And anyway, this is all so 2009. It is time for the story of a slightly socially awkward canine who becomes a global sensation. Come on Elaine C Smith. Pull your finger out and get the wardrobe working on that giant dog out outfit.

That will get the Whingers back to Southend which is where we saw I Dreamed a Dream at the Cliffs Pavillion and ate chips in a hut on the prom which was awesome.

Oh, and no the real Susan Boyle didn’t pop up at the end which according to the poster she “is expected to appear at all performances subject to unforeseen circumstances.” Unforeseen by whom is not clear. Appearing on the BGT final as it happened. So not unforeseen after all.

Rating

Review – Long Day’s Journey into Night, Apollo Theatre

“I don’t feel so bad about my drinking now,” chirped Andrew as he breezed out of the Apollo Theatre after Long Day’s Journey into Night and headed into a local hostelry feeling utterly reborn as a paragon of self-restraint.

History shall record that Eugene O’Neil’s life and works were not in vain then. His famously long autobiographical drama about a dysfunctional family (which he didn’t want published until 25 years after his death and never, ever performed) has served at least one useful purpose.

Review – The Sunshine Boys, Savoy Theatre

Two grumpy old gits with failing memories harbour massive grudges and snipe at each other. One of them prefers to spend as much time as possible lolling around in his jim-jams.  Both attempt to flog tired old gags in a double act that’s way past it’s sell by date.

The Sunshine Boys has a most pungent, room-clearing whiff of someone having a laugh at the Whingers’ expense. Would it prove a bit too close to home (a retirement one of course) for them?

Prolific Neil Simon‘s 1972 play arrives at the Savoy Theatre with an eagerly-anticipated USP: Danny DeVito making his West End stage debut as an old vaudevillian Willie Clark.

Cast opposite him the altogether less diminutive Richard Griffiths as his former stage partner Al Lewis (didn’t he play Grandpa in The Munsters?) and you might believe you’re almost Twins-set for a perfect match.

Review – Top Hat, Aldwych Theatre

Andrew recently passed a big and significant landmark which, to put it delicately, did not involve sitting aboard the 52 bus and whizzing past the Royal Albert Hall.

No, it was one of those occasions where everyone was coming up with ideas for unusual things he could do on the actual day. Phil suggested he stayed in and blew the dust off that anthology of Harold Pinter he gave him several birthdays ago. Some hope. (In case you’re interested, he ended up spending it with Nancy Lam)

But if Andrew ever feels despondent about his advancing years he can always instantly feel 20 years younger for the price of a theatre ticket – at least for as long as Top Hat runs.

The Whingers were feeling almost nubile amongst the Aldwych crowd. When Phil stood up before the show started to see how many were in the orchestra pit (15 for the record) a shrinking mittel-European lady behind him tapped him on the shoulder and anxiously enquired, “I hope you’re not going to keep standing up during ze show”.

Review – Educating Rita, Menier Chocolate Factory

Saturday evening.

Philly-no-mates had nothing booked in the diary. What to do? Take up an impromptu offer (presumably no one else being available) to revisit the Menier Chocolate Factory‘s Educating Rita now starring Claire Sweeney as the titular heroine or stay in on his tod and flick restlessly between TV ‘talent’ shows.

Sweeney or tod?

Phil dithered. He doesn’t normally like visiting the theatre on a Saturday evening* and whilst the decision was not exactly on a par with Sophie’s Choice he weighed up the options fastidiously. The Whingers had enjoyed it enormously two years ago; surely only disappointment would ensue.

Review – South Downs / The Browning Version, Harold Pinter Theatre

One Man’s Two Guvnors may be another man’s poison but we urge you to take the risk and nip down to The Harold Comedy Theatre and take in the really rather pleasing and old-fashioned (in a good way) double-bill you will find there.

With all its transfers into town the Chichester Festival Theatre must find it more difficult than a Boris Bike to find somewhere to park in the West End but we should all be grateful that this already acclaimed production has metaphorically managed to chain its crossbar to the railings in Panton Street.

Review – Misterman, National Theatre

Mr Andrew has booked this and although Mr Phil is never really sure what he’s going to see he felt like Mr Grumpy, Mr Silly and Mr Dyslexic rolled into one amorphous Day-glo shape when he realised that Mr Enda Walsh‘s play was a gritty monologue and nothing at all to do with Roger Hargreaves’ popular doodles.

Now the Whingers have given Aunt Enda a fairly wide berth since The Walworth Fiasco Farce almost four years ago but the lure of the very talented Mr Cillian Murphy was sufficiently strong to persuade the Whingers to rather graciously give the Irish playwright another go and really we do wonder if we weren’t paying attention last time because his 1999 play Misterman  is practially a compendium of WEW theatrical must-haves:

Review – The King’s Speech, Wyndham’s Theatre

Last year’s musical Betty Blue Eyes was based around celebrations for the 1947 Royal Wedding and was fortuitously provided with another one. But sadly even with this marketing fillip it failed to fly (or convince us that pigs can).

And now in this Jubilee year comes another royal-themed offering The King’s Speech which in its film incarnation went on to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards though Phil maintains that the even more enjoyable and superior The Social Network was robbed.

And later in the year the Olympics-themed Chariots of Fire (another Best Film Oscar-winner) will grace the Hampstead Theatre. This is unlikely to be the last Olympic themes adaptation and the Whingers are holding their breaths in the hope that a musical adaptation of Marathon Man might be on the cards. Well, Little Shop of Horrors managed a number about dentistry, so why not?

Anyway, this The King’s Speech is the David Seidler ”play that started it all”. Seidler went on to win the Best Original Screenplay at the Academy Awards just as Colin Firth famously nabbed the Best Actor door-stop. No pressure for Charles Edwards then, who takes on the role of the stammering prince Bertie forced into the position of becoming a King (George VI) when his brother opts for the lap of Mrs Simpson rather than a seat on the throne.

More Bleedin’ Hot Pies!

Some might call it poor taste. Some might call it an act of expedience before the latest VAT comes in.

We’d call it a deliciously canny and waggish merchandising ploy.

The Whingers love to fill a few minutes taking in the finest in the shops at theatres. Themed products always amuse us. Singin’ in the Rain is offering a range of branded umbrellas, Phantom of the Opera markets a magic mug which when filled with a hot drink sees the Phantom’s white mask magically appear and most musicals have the usual CDs, T-shirts and key rings you’d expect, though at least in Sweeney Todd a key is crucial to the plot.

Occasionally this is taken just that little bit further. The Menier’s Abigail’s Party is serving pre-show 70s meals including chicken Kiev and fondue (as different courses we presume). And of course the Whingers were seduced into parting with their cash last year when at Frankenstein a smoking green cocktail called The Experiment went on sale in the National’s bar.

But the Sweeney Todd people have probably come up with the best one yet. In keeping with show’s grisly cannabalistic plot the bars at the Adelphi theatre are selling “Mrs Lovett’s Bleedin’ Hot Pies”. And they do indeed bleed. Quite literally.

Review – Howlin’ Comedy Club, New Wimbledon Studio

The Whingers like a laugh.

Last Sunday saw them go from the sublime to the ridiculous with two nautically themed diversions: the brilliant and hilarious Aardman 3D movie The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists and episode one of Julian Fellowes’ Titanic which posits a radical new angle on the disaster by proving that the ship sank not because of an iceberg but due to to the excess number of servants on board.

Anyway, anxious to maintain our levity levels we trekked to Wimbledon for the first night of Howlin’ Comedy Club which will play at the New Wimbledon’s studio on the last Monday of each month.

Review – South Pacific, New Wimbledon Theatre

Phil tried to break the news to Andrew as gently as possible. But there was no other way but to simply blurt it out.

“It’s 3 hours long. Act 1 is 1 hour 37 minutes”.

The corners of Andrew’s mouth turned due south as his eyebrows shot off in entirely the opposite direction; you’d think he’d just heard that Carol Channing had announced her retirement.

The problem with Rodgers and Hammerstein is they just didn’t know when to stop. Many musicals are lucky to produce any, let alone one or two memorable numbers. They should heed South Pacific and weep: it has over a dozen of them plus the reprises.

Review – Filumena, Almeida theatre

“Tell me why we’re seeing this?” Andrew had grilled Phil with such alarming regularity that if he’d been looking into a mirror The Candyman would probably have appeared.

“Because Samantha Spiro is in it and I saw it years ago and really enjoyed it” Phil repeated with increasing impatience.

Of course Phil’s ‘years ago’ wasn’t Judi Dench’s Filumena, which was a mere 14 years ago, but the Franco Zeffirelli production from so long ago that Patricia Hayes was playing the maid and Joan Plowright’s youthful sons included Trevor Eve and Larry Lamb.

Those were the days when Phil would sit in the gallery of the Theatre Royal Brighton and see everything and – more peculiarly – enjoy almost everything. How times have changed.