Posts Tagged ‘Emma Reeves’

Review – Cool Hand Luke, Aldwych Theatre

Wednesday 5 October 2011

Hopefully you will never hear the Whingers addressing anyone as “dude”. And if you attempt to proffer either of us a “high five” expect a glacial stare in return. Watch the hands go deep into the pockets.

And unlike the youth of today (or was it yesterday?) we are sparing with the use of the word “cool” despite its new lease of life on Doctor Who, choosing to reserve its use for comments about the weather. You have our permission to put us up against the wall and shoot us should we ever use it as an affirmative.

“Cool” is that rare theatre auditorium that doesn’t resemble a sauna, Andrew’s reaction to the oeuvre of Mr Pinter, or just a cup of tea left unattended beside the Russell Hobbs.

So it was some surprise to us that in the programme for Emma Reeves‘ stage adaptation of ex-con Donn Pearce‘s novel Cool Hand Luke the QI-ish “Cool Hand Luke Facts” reveal that 1825 was the year that ‘cool’ was first used to mean ‘calmly audacious’. The Whingers, particularly Phil, will of course still see this as recent linguistic contagion. Read the rest of this entry »

Review – Carrie’s War, Apollo Theatre

Wednesday 15 July 2009

carries-warIt was with some dismay that the Whingers entered the Apollo Theatre auditorium yesterday afternoon to find it crawling with, well, school children.

They were already downhearted at having inadvertently elected to spend July’s seemingly sole sunny afternoon inside a theatre and under any other circumstances the lure of sunshine and 70%-off sales in the nicer stores of Regent Street would have had them ripping up their tickets without a second thought.

But they were at Carrie’s War at the invitation of the producer who had emailed the Whingers to ask: “Have you forgotten us? We produce a whole show, await your comments, but find you seem to have left us as yet unvisited?” By the end of the exchange the Whingers had eventually decided to invite themselves to the intriguing prospect of a Tuesday matinee (whoever heard of such a thing?) and poor Mr Producer was simply asking “Why won’t you let me have the last word?”.

And so the Whingers found themselves walking in to the Apollo feeling rather grand until they were bumped back to earth at the horror of finding themselves to be not only about the oldest people in the stalls, but seemingly be some decades. Deep breath. Read the rest of this entry »