Review – Company, Union Theatre

The Whingers would love to recommend Michael Strassen‘s production of Sondheim‘s Company at the Union Theatre.

But the chances of you getting a ticket now are less than those Labour has of winning a election if one were called tomorrow (the run ends this Saturday 13th June). Unless of course one of the six producers (plus Miss Kazonga 2008, Ruthie Henshall) who were in the house last night decide to stump up some cash and transfer it to the West End.

It wouldn’t be a bad decision –  the toilet arrangements would almost certainly be superior in its new home.

Review – More Light, Arcola Theatre

Ostensibly because they know so many people (but in fact because they increasingly struggle to dredge up names) the Whingers have evolved a language to aid conversation.

For example: to be clear which Paul is under discussion one refers either to “Toaster Paul” (who won a toaster at the first West End Whingers party) or to “Salad Spinner Paul” (can’t remember quite why now).

So it was a shame that Phil (“Anal Phil” due to his neurotic fastidiousness vis a vis hygiene in particular and life in general) was unable to make Bryony Lavery‘s More Light at the Arcola because the main characters are all named according to a similar schema: Moist Moss, Playful Kitten, Love Mouth and so on.

In which the Whingers fess up to their whereabouts on Sunday

Well, it’s a bit embarrassing really. But we were on the fringe. In Hackney. Again.

And we’d have got away with it too if it weren’t for those pesky playwrights Stephen Sharkey and Dr David Eldridge who were both around to witness the Whingers swan in for the 1pm (!) performance of three short plays at the Arcola Theatre.

This was part of the East festival and featured:

• Purgatory by Steven Berkoff
• Flowers In Her Hair by Rebecca Lenkiewicz
• The List by Dr David Eldridge

The whole thing was over in about an hour, each being short enough that the Whingers’ ever decreasing attention spans could cope.

Miniaturists: more reports from the fringe

Well, now the Whingers have discovered the excitement of living on the fringe there’s no stopping them.

Yesterday saw them at the worlds’ first carbon neutral theatre, the Arcola which is in, well, nowhere that has seemingly been graced with a name, but it’s quite near Dalston Kingsland station.

This was Miniaturists 18. Yes, that’s right. Not only the fringe, but also a mix of established writers and “new writing” which is something the Whingers stopped bothering with some time ago when the penny dropped that “new writing” is all about the promise of “possibly good writing at some point in the future”; now they just wait for new writers to become established writers.

Review – Untitled, Finborough Theatre

It is a little known fact among those who have yet to be granted admittance to the murky crevices of the Whingers’ inner circle (a geometrical unlikelihood, granted) that Phil is contractually obliged to address Andrew as “HRH”.

Behind Phil’s back, Andrew calls his whinging chum “The Duchess” or sometimes “that fat, Scottish cook” as Mrs Wallis Simpson aka the Duchess of Windsor would apparently refer to the Queen Mother.

So the Whingers felt very at home and sympathetic to Lena Farugia‘s neatly titled play about Wallis Simpson, the Duchess of Windsor: Untitled, now playing at the Finborough Theatre.

Review – Saturday Night by Stephen Sondheim, Jermyn Street Theatre

The Jermyn Street Theatre certainly knows how to suck up to the Whingers. Rolling them on their backs and tickling their tummies (sorry, that’s a rather unpleasant image – we do hope you’re not eating) could have produced no greater wagging of tails than took place on Sunday afternoon.

With practised insouciance, the Whingers waltzed (literally, since you ask) into the venue at one minute before the 3pm start time for Stephen Sondheim‘s early musical Saturday Night, yet the Whingers were able to take their second row seats without the hassle of a pre-show scrummage for a decent position.

For there they were: three empty seats (one each for the Whingers, one for Andrew’s “manbag”) at this tiny but perfectly formed fringe theatre. No detestable unreserved seating policy here. The Jermyn Street Theatre proves it can be done: it is possible for a fringe theatre to put numbers on the seats and on the tickets. Three cheers to them!

Of course, their moods were also helped by the fact that the seats were free-of-charge for the Whingers were there at the invitation of the producers and, boy, were they feeling grand. Hence all the insouciance and the waltzing.

Easily bought, they were in very relaxed and generous frames of mind and already on the side of the show before the lights went down.

But the problem was not the venue, it was the piece.

In which The Whingers display amazing largesse…

Strange things are going on in the world.

Unforeseen, uncontrollable events are happening all around us. The last two weeks have seen tumultuous developments that even the most cynical pundit could never have anticipated.

Yes, the Whingers have been going to the theatre and actually enjoying themselves.

Review – How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found, Southwark Playhouse

It is rare that upon visiting the theatre the Whingers’ dearest wish is merely not to get punched on the nose.

And on those rare occasions it is rarer still that they end up not only with their noses unbloodied but actually having a good time.

Review – Unstated: Stories of Refuge, Southwark Playhouse

Oh dear. How did we come to get so utterly out of our depth?

It seems that only yesterday the Whingers were paddling about on the comforting, crumbling shores of London’s famous West End Theatreland, waving happily at the occasional Dame of the British Empire through a proscenium arch and squealing with delight.

But on Monday night they found themselves sucked by the fierce undertow of the blogosphere into altogether choppier waters – the fringe. More fearsomely, into a storm of political fringe theatre: Unstated: Stories of Refuge at the Southwark Playhouse.

The security of their fourth-wall water-wings were torn violently from their scrawny arms even before it started…

Review – 2,000 Feet Away, Bush Theatre

Well, what kind of review can a production expect when it is advertised to start at 8pm, has unreserved seating requiring you start queueing at 7.45pm and finally admits you into the auditorium at 8.25pm without apology or explanation.

And  – even though it is only 90 minutes long – you get out at 10pm and have to find your way home from Shephards Bush.

It also features Ian Hart whose interview in The Times this week started thus:

Theatre fans, Ian Hart has something to tell you. “I hate theatre. I hate doing it. And it’s not the medium I wish to work in.” It gets worse. The 43-year-old firebrand actor, who is midway through rehearsals on Anthony Weigh’s controversial paedophile drama 2,000 Feet Away, hates you, too. “I hate the audience,” he says, over chicken Caesar salad in a South London café.

“I have a big problem with the audience. I don’t feel the desire to engage them. Which is what theatre is all about.”

So, it’s written by Anthony Weigh, directed by Josie Rourke and also stars Joseph Fiennes. Some people are quite good in it and the play’s OK in some ways. But it’s sold out anyway.

Half an hour of standing in this, then a play.

Review – Rock – Oval House Theatre

Rock is a play of two halves.

It has an interval.

But that’s rather too simplistic. It’s much more profound than that.

Review – F***ing Men by Joe DiPietro, Finborough Theatre

That Mark R****hill has a lot to answer for. Once he unleashed the title of S****ing and F***ing on the world there was no **ing back.

So now US playwright Joe DiP****o picks up the b**** with this take on Schnitzler’s La Ronde at the F**borough Theatre.

Review – Fascinating Aida, Jermyn Street Theatre

Phil was having one of his republican days.

No, not that kind of Republican: say “McCain” and Phil thinks “oven chips”; say “Bush” and Phil thinks, well, not much really.

No, “republican” as in “not that struck on the monarchy”.

Now do not be dismayed at this rather late excursion into anarchy: it will all be over by tomorrow. Sharper-eyed denizens of Kentish Town may catch him fishing his collection of Princess Anne & Captain Mark Phillips wedding knick-knacks out of his dustbin in order to restore them to their pride of place on his mantelpiece.

Review – Natural Selection at Theatre 503

“Dear Blogger, Here at Theatre503 and Whippet Productions, we’re big fans of internet blogging and really value the opinions of people, like yourself, on plays, musicals and other theatre in London. In light of this fact, we’d like to try something new. We’d like to invite YOU to come and see our latest production – Natural Selection at Theatre503 – on Press Night: Friday 9 May, 8pm.”

Clearly the email was intended for some other London theatre bloggers as no-one values the opinions of the West End Whingers, not even the West End Whingers.

Review – Tinderbox, Bush Theatre

Why, oh why, oh why don’t people just ask us before they go around putting on plays willy nilly?

It would save an awful lot of strife, time, expense, trouble and suffering in the long run.