Review – Really Old, Like Forty Five, National Theatre.

The Whingers have been thinking of their retirement.

Not in the sense of contemplating sitting around watching Countdown (they’re already partial to that) or airing their plus fours on the golf courses of this land, nor even considering their first Saga cruise. No, they’re not at that stage quite yet, though obviously (assuming the ongoing ratings fracas doesn’t escalate) Phil is closer to that end of life than Andrew. And of course their future well-being is about as reliable as an Iraq Inquiry with hardly a pension-pot to piss in. No, they mean retiring from whinging as they’ve witnessed a widow of opportunity which could complete their own critics’ circle.

Review – Midsummer (a play with songs), Soho Theatre

Oh dear, this rating system is going to be the death of the Whingers.

“Well, definitely a robust 4,” said Andrew confidently as they trailed down the staircase of the Soho Theatre after Midsummer (a play with songs) on Monday (Yes! Monday! That’s how long this has been rumbling on!).

“Mngh,” countered Phil. “3″.

But then it turned out after a bit of discussion that Phil was in fact actually rating his bladder which – dicky at the best of times – had been sending impatient complaints to his brain for the final half hour of the 105 minute uninterrupted running time.

The Critics’ Circle Theatre Awards 2009

Well, the fire door had been carelessly left open so like model citizens we went in and pulled it firmly shut behind us and then it turned out we were in the Price of Wales Theatre and there was free drink and Rachel Weisz and Jude Law were and so we thought, what the hell, and stayed for The Critics’ Circle Theatre Awards 2009.

Of course, it’s pretty much the definition of “yesterday’s news”* (well, you try filing a blog post when they’ve been topping up your wine glass not stop for for three hours and to be fair Andrew was tweeting it live) and so you know that Weisz and Law were among the winners. We sort of guessed that when we saw them there.

Review – The Rivals, Southwark

A curse upon unreserved seating! A pox upon thine playhouse! The rivalry for seats bits of bench at the otherwise wonderful Southwark Playhouse’s production of The Rivals last night proved more intense than anything the Whingers will ever see on a stage.

Were there a lot of Germans in the audience on Tuesday night? Ersatz beach towels in the form of scarves and coats were draped across swathes of seating. “I’m reserving five seats!” explained one woman, channelling Mrs Malaprop’s hauteur, but presumably she had lived here long enough to lose her accent and therefore break the habit.

The auditorium filled to capacity and then some more people arrived. The staff implored us: “Could you squeeze up a bit?” Er, no, we couldn’t actually. Even with Andrew’s newly gym-honed carcass and Phil’s buttocks clenched as tight as a fringe theatre’s budget there really wasn’t room for another. A gentleman was pushed onto the end of our row nonetheless and quite how he perched on one buttock for the not-far-short-of three hours we shall never know. I suppose we could have asked.

Review – The Little Dog Laughed, Garrick Theatre

What a queer year it’s already turning out to be. This is only the third theatrical sortie for the Whingers and it’s the third in which gay matters form a significant part of the plot. Homosexuality is going to be to 2010 what on-stage-vomiting was to 2008 and on-stage-limping was to 2009. With nudity running a close second.

It seems there’s no danger of the Whingers’ patented Gay-O-Meter rusting in one of Andrew’s neglected crannies. He’ll be swishing his Mr Muscle with gay abandon and rubbing like there’s no tomorrow to keep it in sparkling condition, which is a little gay in itself. Phil has entreated Andrew to get extra batteries to ensure uninterrupted running. Three out of the four characters in Douglas Carter Beane’s Broadway comedy The Little Dog Laughed at the Garrick Theatre are gay, pinging the Gay-o-Meter needle to an impressive 75% on the dial. It was twitching as soon as the tickets tumbled through the letter box.

Review – Six Degrees of Separation, Old Vic

The idea that everyone in the world is separated from everyone else by no more than six people must send extra winter chills to the readers of these pages. Imagine being that close to the Whingers.

But for the Whingers it’s a concept that has gained appeal since they started blogging. If you’ve ever had the misfortune to meet a Whinger you can now swank to your friends that you’re only one person away from Mel Brooks, Pamela Anderson, Britt Ekland and Lionel Blair. Imagine how close that puts the Whingers to the movers and shakers of this planet – one away from Megan Mullally, Brian Blessed, Christopher Lee and Sammy Davis Junior (although he’s dead, sadly) and just twice removed from Debbie Reynolds, Topol and President Nixon. And obviously Three Degrees from Prince Charles.

Even for the Whingers it’s a sobering thought.

Baz Bamigboye’s Big Blonde Bet

If you don’t read veteran showbiz scribe Baz Bamigboye’s “It’s Friday” column on, er, Fridays in the Daily Mail you won’t have seen a piece mentioning a £100 bet with the West End Whingers.

And for those of you who did see it, the Whingers wish to set the record straight.

Review – Legally Blonde Gala Night, Savoy Theatre

Yes we know. We are getting more insufferably grand by the day. And that grandness is tugging at the already fraying hems of the very fabric of the Whingers’ existence. That fabric being, of course, a fine Gentleman’s Harris Tweed and very old Bri-Nylon* in Phil’s and Andrew’s cases respectively.

But when Producer Sonia Friedman absolutely insisted that it just wouldn’t be a proper opening gala without the Whingers lending their presence at Legally Blonde, refusing might appear petty and churlish and make them appear even grander than they already believed themselves to be. What indeed were the boys expected to do?

New Year Sulking

Yes, it’s very quiet here, isn’t it?  To be honest, there’s quite a lot of sulking going on. To discover that the Whingers don’t make it onto the Stage 100 List of the most powerful people in theatre was, frankly, a bit of a blow.

But then it was very controversial. Michael Billington spluttered, “Does John Barrowman really have more power than Nick Kent who runs the Tricycle Theatre?” which is certainly true on our case because – as far as we know – John Barrowman has never barred us from anything whereas the Tricycle has.

And then came the New Year Honours list. We’re not bitter. We’re glad that Margaret Tyzack is now a CBE (although it seems a bit of a wasted opportunity for a new theatrical DBE). And it’s now Sir Patrick Stewart and Dame Nicholas Hytner or something.

Speaking of Dames, the Whingers were rather amused by the bit in Victoria Wood’s Mid-Life Christmas in which áctress Bo Beaumont dismissed Diana Rigg’s damehood as being “for her charity work”.

Anyway, other disappointments already this year include not being invited to the Baddeley Cake celebration at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane on twelfth night. As the Arthur Lloyd theatre history site explains:

It is named after Robert Baddeley who was a popular actor at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane for many years until he died in 1794 during the run of his most celebrated part, Moses in ‘School for Scandal.’

Baddeley left instructions that on the death of his wife ‘certain monies’ were ‘to go to the society established for the relief of indigent persons belonging to Drury Lane Theatre.’ And amongst other requests he also left provision that the interest from £100 be used on the Twelfth Night of every year for the purchase of a cake, with wine and punch, for the Drury Lane Company in residence to partake of in the Green Room of the Theatre so that they might remember him.

Remarkably this tradition has survived and Baddeley is indeed celebrated and remembered each year on the 6th of January to this day.

You can find pictures of past Baddeley Cakes here and here.

The Whingers Awards 2009 – the very worst and the not so bad

With another year rapidly drawing to a close it is time for the Whingers to reflect and indulge themselves in a little more navel gazing – not our own navels, as that would be even duller than usual for you – but the innies and outies of the sometimes fluffy navels of London’s artistic directors, producers, players and theatres and award The Whingies to the most outstanding ones.

But first our own navels: 2009 has been a year of heady excitement for the Whingers. It was a year that saw them inadvertently whip up controversy and heated debate again and again and again.

It was also a year in which artistic differences reared their ugly heads threatening the very fabric of the West End Whingers, a tear in the polyester bed-sheet of their existence so delicate that a clumsily clipped toenail might have been all it took to rent it from headboard to toe straight down the middle.

The Whingers were courted by the British Broadcasting Company, libelled as “muckrakers” in the National Press, lampooned in song and Phil had his pithiest aphorism to date quoted (yet mainly without attribution) by national critics. There was an evening of confusion in which Phil was mistaken for Michael Grandage and the Whingers finally received an award for their artistic endeavours.

And we finally got the opportunity to choose between the Merlot and the Marlowe.

So, without further do, here are the results of the Kentish Town and Vauxhall juries:

Review – Sandi Toksvig’s Christmas Cracker starring Ronnie Corbett

The Whingers have been  displaying an awful lot of festive cheer of late. Too much.

They were charmed by Cinderella, agog at Aladdin and have generally and uncharacteristically been joining in all opportunities for audience participation as though they were finally in touch with their inner kiddie-winks (although sadly Phil’s inner child has already turned 23, has just finished university and is temporarily working as a barista until some company desperate for someone with a 2:2 in art history comes knocking) .

But perhaps it was Monday night’s trip to see the disappointing Nine (to which Andrew awarded a Three and Phil a Six. That’s out of Ten, you understand, not Nine) that proved their inner and outer grumps to be alive and well and on track to see out the festive season intact.

But who would have thought it would be a trip to the Royal Festival Hall to see Sandi Toksvig’s Christmas Cracker Starring Ronnie Corbett that would have them crawling the walls and screaming for mercy?

Review – Tap and Chat with Lionel Blair, New End Theatre

Having got well-stoked up on winter fuel and Christmas spirits, the Whingers thought it would be a good idea to catch Tap and Chat with Lionel Blair at the New End Theatre.

After all, Tap & Chat with Lionel Blair is billed as

an exclusive glimpse into the colourful world of the cult TV star and dancer. Alongside his beautifully choreographed songs Lionel shares anecdotes from his celebrated career which has seen him share the stage and screen with among others The Beatles, Sammy Davis Jnr. and Ella Fitzgerald.

which (glossing over the clearly meaningless use of the word “exclusive”) sounds right up the Whingers’ alleys. They just can’t get enough of those showbusiness anecdotes.

Sadly, it has to be said that the flamboyantly heterosexual 78 year old Lionel Blair’s show is short on anecdotes but very long on name-dropping. They came so thick and fast that the Whingers couldn’t keep up even with both of them scrawling as fast as their tremulous fingers would go.

Review – Rope, Almeida Theatre

Picture it. Two handsome young men – one urbane, the other highly-strung – commit an unspeakable act as a supposedly intellectual exercise, then contrive to shamelessly flaunt their terrible undertaking before an unwitting audience.

But that’s quite enough about the Whingers.

Review – Aladdin, with Pamela Anderson, New Wimbledon Theatre

Goodness! Two pantos in 11 days? You might be forgiven for thinking that the Whingers are full of uncharacteristic festive cheer.

Don’t worry, these two miserable Scrooges hate the season as much as ever. The only Christmas spirit they’ll be displaying will be served in a tumbler over ice. So why another panto?

Well it’s pretty obvious isn’t it? There were two humongous reasons for trailing out to the New Wimbledon Theatre, Pamela Anderson and err…….Pamela Anderson Brian Blessed.

Review – Legally Blonde – The Musical!, Savoy Theatre

OMIGOD! The Whingers’ biggest ever outing!

OMIGOD! 20 of them. 20 different opinions including one who famously “doesn’t do musicals”. How could one show possibly please this disparate bunch?

OMIGOD! Over the last few months Phil had been bombarded with pink envelopes with that irritating expression embossed in silver upon them as the publicity for Legally Blonde went into hyperdrive. The envelopes each contained a CD featuring (presumably the best) four songs from the show. Phil played a CD once and only once and passed onto Andrew with the words OHDEAR!

As the Whingers and their crew started the long trek down the stairs into the beautiful Art Deco Savoy Theatre they spotted signs telling them that the performance was being recorded and that if they didn’t want their images filmed they should have a word with the management. Would the Whingers’ cover be finally blown? Would they have to adopt their signature poses for the entire evening? How could they possibly find and tell the management in time?

Well they probably could have as the packed house (capacity 1,158) took some seating. Despite urgent entreaties that the performance would start in one minute the curtain went up 10 minutes late. Even worse, programmes were an absurd £6.50* and the show features Phil’s theatrical pet hate park benches – yes two of them! – it was going to take an awful lot of theatrical magic to turn the evening round for the Whingers.