Review – Complicit with Richard Dreyfuss and an earpiece, Old Vic

What a shambles. What a complete and utter shambles. And how entertaining.

Hang on, scrub that last sentence. Complicit wasn’t in the least bit entertaining.

The only entertaining aspect to the evening was the discreet yet mesmerising, scandalous earpiece which Richard Dreyfuss was sporting because – so rumour has it – he does not know all of his lines.

Hard to believe? You can read about it here, here and here and a million other places.

Indeed, according to one source (who, of course, can not be named) a highlight of at least one early preview was the sound of David Suchet loudly calling “prompt” on Dreyfuss’ behalf which – as our Deep Throat conjectured – surely can’t have done much for dressing room bonhomie.

But the West End Whingers are proud to report that they can now reveal that there is in fact a wholly legitimate reason for Dreyfuss’ inability to remember his lines.

Review – Living Together (The Norman Conquests) at the Old Vic

Well, let’s look on the bright side (see what a holiday can do for one?).

This was the Whingers’ first theatrical sortie since their expedition to the bush. That’s the African bush if you’re not up to speed (and if not, why not?) not the lauded fringe theatre over a pub half-way to Swindon.

The Old Vic’s new production of Alan Ayckbourn’s Living Together – part of his 70s trilogy of The Norman Conquests – has been directed by the charming and über-prolific Matthew Warchus (who, you may recall, inadvertently gave the Whingers their very first interview).

But the big news is that The Old Vic’s auditorium has been reconfigured and named “The CQS Space”. Apparently that has nothing to do with a TV shopping channel but is connected with something entirely beyond the Whingers’ comprehension: hedge funds and the Hintze Family Charitable Foundation.

So at least the Old Vic’s notorious creaking seats have gone and more bar space has been made available by chucking out some of those useless seats at the back of the stalls. Other theatre owners please take note.

Sounds promising doesn’t it?

Review – Pygmalion, The Old Vic

“There must be something radically wrong about the play if it pleases everybody, but at the moment I cannot find what it is.”

Shaw’s comment on his own Pygmalion is one of the few kinds of challenge to which the West End Whingers feel they can confidently rise so they were eagerly anticipating their evening at Peter Hall‘s revival at the Old Vic and – to save precious drinking time later – had already scrawled “too long!!!!” and “squeaking seats” in their notebooks.

Review – Speed-the-Plow with Jeff Goldblum and Kevin Spacey, Old Vic, London

To mark Shrove Tuesday Andrew turned up at the Old Vic wearing his pancake concealer; Phil, as always, was the tosser.

There was a real buzz in the packed auditorium last night and for once not because Andrew’s hearing-aid was on the blink. In fact the buzz was so loud that the Whingers couldn’t hear the Old Vic seats creaking and for a moment they thought that Mr Spacey had finally made time to go round with the can of 2-in-1 oil that the Whingers sent him for Christmas (or meant to send him; we’re not sure now).

Anyway, yes, buzz. Or in the Whingers’ case, mild fretting. The director of Speed-the-Plow is none other than Mr Matthew Warchus and – this being a preview – the Whingers were slightly worried that they might again get told off for writing.

Buzz and fretting gave way to “mild peril” (as the movie posters have it these days) when the house manager appeared onto the stage to announce that the already tardy curtain would be even tardier. Had one of the Hollywood stars – Jeff Goldblum or Kevin Spacey – thrown a hissy fit backstage?

Yet more Box Office poison

The latest in our ongoing series of general whinging vis a vis shoddy box office (BO) experiences.

And for once it isn’t just the Whingers complaining.

Review – Cinderella by Stephen Fry at the Old Vic

If Stephen Fry wrote a pantomime it would be just like this.

Yes, it’s everything you would expect from the man: clever, knowledgeable, confident, amusingly pedantic, self-referential, gender-bending and very, very funny.

Oh and as it’s that terrible season again, turns out to be rather appropriately, as camp as Christmas.

And not at all aimed at children.

Old Vic goes offline

Ooops. Oh, Kev, you’ve really gone and done it now.

Go to any www.oldvictheatre.com page today and you won’t find the website. Seems the Old Vic’s domain registration has expired.

Review – All About My Mother, The Old Vic, London

Poor Mr Spacey. We’ve given that man some shtick in the past. The last time the West End Whingers dropped by the Old Vic to see some tripe or other (was it The Entertainer?; we’re sure it wasn’t as long ago as Resurrection Blues) we found ourselves wholly preoccupied with trying to make mental notes to remember to get him some lubricant for Christmas so that he can oil the horribly creaky (we remember now – it was Gaslight!) seats in the Old Vic.

Review – Gaslight, Old Vic, London

Ah, gaslight. Andrew spends many a happy hour meticulously petit pointing his Capri pants by gaslight.

This is not the gaslight of the Victorian age although he remembers that clearly (indeed more clearly than he remembers things that happened yesterday). No, being the environmentally-aware global citizen that he is, it’s a light generated by harnessing the copious amounts of hot air and methane he produces.

Understandable then that he was particularly drawn to see Peter Gill‘s production of that hoary old classic Gaslight at the Old Vic.

That and the fact that both Whingers fondly remember the wonderful film version which featured Ingrid Bergman, Dame May Whitty and Angela Lansbury so they were rather looking forward to it. Big mistake.

Old Vic roundup: Gaslight, All About My Mother and why today is a very special day…

Today is a very special day and one which the West End Whingers are going to celebrate by opening a bottle of wine as soon as the sun is over the yardarm horizon.