Review – Rosmersholm, Duke of York’s Theatre

Cor. A rarely performed piece of Ibsen gloom which has been dumped straight into the West End without the usual slew of raves from a previous incarnation at an Almeida or a Royal Court to ignite a buzz. And, come to that, no really big name draws like a Dench or a Smith (that’s Maggie not Sheridan) let alone a Waller-Bridge to get those box office tills overheating.

But then this comes from that spunkiest of producers, Sonia Friedman, who rarely seems to put a foot wrong. Just as well really with this tightrope she’s strung herself across St Martin’s Lane. Thank goodness for her Harry Potter safety net.

This production of Rosmerholm claims to be a new adaptation by Duncan Macmillan but we think it’s actually been given a light fingering by Anna Soubry and Chuka Umunna.

Review – Doctor Faustus, Duke of York’s Theatre

Phil wasn’t going to bother with Doctor Faustus. He will probably suffer eternal damnation from fans as he only made it through one series of Game of Thrones. So seeing Kit Harington fannying around in his underpants was of no consequence to him and the reviews were what can only kindly be described as “mixed”. But then the offer of a trip to see it came up and, like Faustus, gave in to temptation.

And as Jamie Lloyd‘s throw-in-the-kitchen-sink (then some) drama comes to the end of its run next week he wasn’t going to bother writing about it either. But after witnessing it, that was another temptation he couldn’t quite resist either.

Review – The Father, Duke of Yorks’s Theatre

Florian Zeller‘s The Father  has been knocking around for a while now and is currently back in the West End for a season that is limited even by today’s limited season standards before heading out on tour.

Ravetastic reviews from pretty much everyone. “The most acclaimed new play of the decade” trumpets the poster which raises expectations beyond reasonable expectation. Though even Andrew, who caught it at The Wyndhams last year, bestowed the compliment “clever” on it and since it tackles the zeitghastly subject of dementia, (something Phil has close personal experience of), well, it just had to be seen.

Review – The Nether, Duke of York’s Theatre

There are some terrible things out there on the internet. Well, you’ve come to this site so you presumably already knew that.

American playwright Jennifer Haley‘s The Nether is dystopian, but we will not hold that against her, as it is also a disturbing thriller with a grim warning about the technological future.  Set between two worlds, a dreary room where suspected paedophiles are being interviewed and The Hideaway, a murky virtual realm where visitors can interact with and touch, hurt, rape and repeatedly murder children with an axe. So no tap dancing then.

Review – Jeeves and Wooster in Perfect Nonsense, Duke of York’s Theatre

Inclement weather, a flurry of Oscar-nominated films to see, a nasty bug, seasons 5 of both Mad Men and Breaking Bad to plough through and vague attemps to understand the hammer rule in the curling. It seemed Phil could think of plenty of excuses not to go to the theatre over the last few weeks.

Somehow he just hadn’t got around to Jeeves and Wooster in Perfect Nonsense, so the announcement that there was to be a cast change (Mark Heap and Robert Webb from 7th of April) galvanised him into doing something about it.

Review – Passion Play, Duke of York’s Theatre

A Saturday matinee.

Both upper levels of the Duke of York’s appeared to be closed, the theatre barely a third full. No wonder some of the cast couldn’t resist sneaking furtive glances into the auditorium (not furtive enough – we caught you!). The pain and angst apparent on the actors’ faces in Peter Nichols’ 1981 adultery tragi-comedy Passion Play probably didn’t require quite as much acting at this performance.

Music teacher Eleanor (Zoë Wanamaker) has been married to James (Owen Teale) for 25 years – apparently monogamously – but their much younger friend Kate (Annabel Scholey), borrowing the Catherine Zeta Jones’ look from Chicago (which would be the Louise Brooks’ look if you’re of a Whingers’ age), has a history of making herself readily available to pleasure older men. Can James resist her minxy advances? What are the chances?

Review – The Judas Kiss, Duke of York’s Theatre

Two weeks into a new year and our first trip to the theatre. You thought we’d given it up for 2013 didn’t you?

We’ve given other things up, well at least Andrew has. He’s having his now-customary January-off-the-sauce detox. Phil has gone the other way. He’s been playing the new Jeremy Piven drinking game which involves taking a swig of alcohol every time Piven’s titular Mr Selfridge gives one of his many signature toothy grins and raises both arms in the air. It’s quite intoxicating and not recommended on an empty stomach.

So with two theatrical experiences to get through in one evening* Phil went with Andrew’s flow and stayed dry too. In normal Whingering circumstances they’d have felt the spirit and spirits of Oscar Wilde in themselves. In David Hare‘s The Judas Kiss Wilde – however reduced his circumstances – never seems to be short of alcohol. It was a cruel irony for for a cold sober January evening.

Review – Posh, Duke of York’s Theatre

Poshness is relative.

Since Victoria Beckham usefully redefined the word posh for us, what’s posh and what is not is a little random these days. Phil’s poshness is merely aspirational. He asks for a ‘Portillo’ when he has his hair cut, which is then teased on his bonce with limited success. As his bouffant gets bouffier it’s not quite up to the required heady height yet. Let’s be kind and call it a work in progress, a bit like Laura Wade‘s play Posh.

Andrew saw it when it premiered at the Royal Court 2 years ago. Phil didn’t for reasons he cannot remember. It’s now in the West End with some recasting and rewriting (references to the coalition, the Greek economy and the summer riots). Phil is forced to concur with pretty much everything Andrew said about it then.

Review – Backbeat, Duke of York’s Theatre

Is it a play or is a musical? Perhaps it’s a bird or a plane? This could make the Whingers’ annual game of Charades very tricky.

Especially since Iain Softley and Stephen Jeffreys’ Backbeat is based on the 1994 film (which Softley also co-wrote) about The Beatles and joins the tsunami of film-to-stage adaptations flooding the West End at the moment.

With a new book and film (3 hours 28 minutes!) about George Harrison just out and a Beatles’ wedding in the week of its official opening it is somewhat timely.

But what is it?

Review – Journey’s End, Duke of York’s Theatre

“Do you think you would have turned to drink?” Andrew enquired of Phil at the interval of Journey’s End. Which led to the Whingers musing on the pros and cons of life in the World War I trenches.

It did seem grim: the food, the cold, the damp, the rats, the exhaustion, the boredom, the constant fear of bombardment or action and never returning to blighty. But Phil”s imagination was conjuring up terrible images far more chilling than anything portrayed on the stage: the bathroom arrangements.

Review – Bedroom Farce, Duke of York’s Theatre

Some showbiz names are so inextricably linked as to almost be inseparable: Burton and Taylor, Morecambe and Wise, Rogers Rodgers and Hammerstein, Jannette and Ian Krankie, Phil and Andrew. And then there’s Jenny Seagrove and Bill Kenwright.

But creatives providing gainful employment for ‘er indoors is nothing new in showbiz. Think Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter, (more ‘er next door in their case). Think Woody Allen and Mia Farrow (more ‘er across Central Park in theirs).

Having told a friend he was seeing Jenny Seagrove in Bedroom Farce Phil received a rhetorical text to enquire, “Is it a Bill Kenwright production?”. It’s a running gag. Of course it was. And why not?

Review – No Man’s Land by Pinter, Duke of York’s Theatre

Act 1: An October Night. A rather grand living room in Kentish Town or possibly in Vauxhall.

Two quite old men meet for the first time. Or have they already met? Or do they in fact meet at all?

SCHOONER is standing (albeit somewhat unsteadily).

THIRST sits staring into space enigmatically. The lights come up. There is a long silence.

Then another, longer one.

[At this performance the parts of SCHOONER and THIRST are played by Andrew and Phil respectively]