Archive for the 'Tom Stoppard' Category

Review – Every Good Boy Deserves Favour, National Theatre

Sunday 18 January 2009

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A Accurately Advertised running time for once. 65 minutes long.

B Brevity. The Whingers approve.

C Coughing. Had the National imported the audience from Oliver! wholesale?

D Don’t people bother with cough sweets theses days?

E Every Good Boy Deserves Favour is a play for actors and orchestra (Southbank Sinfonia) by Tom Stoppard and André Previn. It’s a rarely performed curiosity. An extravagance. But is it worth the effort? Read the rest of this entry »

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Review – Ivanov, Donmar West End (Wyndham’s Theatre), with Kenneth Branagh

Friday 7 November 2008

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While the rest of the world was holding its breath to find out if McCain had had his chips and the moose huntin’ maverick was back at Walmart, the West End Whingers were bating their collective, slightly wheezy breath with a far more pressing concern: would Ivanov be yet another success in their consecutive list of theatrical junkets?

Would it be assigned a place on The Bagnold Barometer or be put on their list of theatrical abasement: The Fram Scale?

Phil’s now enjoyed an unprecedented eight trips to the theatre, the only thorn in his proverbial side being An Ideal Husband (but since that was in the provinces it doesn’t seem fair to include it and spoil his extraordinary run).

Are the Whingers losing their modus operandi, their raison d’être? Will they have to start searching for a new soubriquet ? Why have they stopped writing in English? Read the rest of this entry »

Review – The Emperor Jones, National Theatre

Monday 10 September 2007

p60jones_468x466.jpgAndrew would have loved this one.

The play that launched Eugene O’Neill’s career The Emperor Jones turned into a music and dance spectacle with a multi-cultural cast and all over without an interval in a mere 70 minutes.

Where could Andrew have been? Well, as regular readers will know, since seeing the abysmal Take Flight at the Menier Chocolate Factory Andrew’s been inspired to do a little of his own flying solo. Only last Thursday he inveigled himself to join a posse of fellow theatrical bloggers at The Bacchae without so much as a nod to poor Phil who was desperate to see Alan Cumming’s bottom for the nth time. Read the rest of this entry »