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 – Mojo, Harold Pinter Theatre

Phil’s first trip to the theatre since his return from what he likes to call the Orient.

Always one to worry about the potential hazards of exotic travel, he hadn’t researched things enough to discover there would be dangerous centipedes or bees, let alone that his chief destination would be positioned perilously on on the Ring of Fire. It was here he experienced his first earthquake, which arrived with a star rating of 6.6 apparently, though some critics downgraded it to 6.3, but it was still enough to discombobulate him slightly, though not as much as the giant inflatable duck which, as a result, exploded in Taiwan’s Kaohsiung harbour.

But theatre gave Phil an excuse to catch up with Andrew and bore him with his experiences of the wobbles, both from his vertigo at the top of some of the world’s tallest buildings and seismic. “Did you see any theatre?” asked Andrew. When Phil explained that Phantom of the Opera was playing in Shanghai (his last stop on the trip) there seemed to be no need to expand on the conversation.

Review – Old Times, Harold Pinter Theatre

“A matinee, a Pinter play” as Sondheim’s “Ladies Who Lunch” lyric goes.

And that’s just what it was. A matinee of a Pinter play and at the Harold Pinter Theatre to boot. Does that make the Whingers ladies who lunch?

Well, one Whinger might be getting in touch with his feminine side over a salad nicoise. Andrew was far too busy, emergency ironing or something, anything seemed preferable to him; there was no Pinteresque pause before Andrew replied to Phil’s suggestion that they go and see Old Times.

Review – The Children’s Hour, Comedy Theatre

Keira Knightley in (k)nightl(e)y, hot lesbian drama! Well, that’s pushing it a bit but you can understand why this revival of The Children’s Hour might be expected to attract a non-core West End audience.

Indeed, it’s strange to think that in a quasi-parallel universe there may, even now, be a queue at the Harold Comedy Theatre in which two similarly shabby but redder-blooded Whingers are even now standing in dirty macs (and anyway where did that convention come from? Surely not Columbo or Harold Wilson?), queuing shiftily to buy a ticket from the box office with their hats pushed down on their heads and their scarves pulled up around their ears, anxiously hoping not to be spotted by their wives or their colleagues.

Review: Jerusalem by Jez Butterworth, Royal Court

Six hours of theatre? Three intervals? Have the Whingers lost the plot, or just watched so much theatre they can’t keep up with it?

OK so we’re conflating a little having sat through a matinée of Carrie’s War before heading trepidatiously to The Royal Court to see the epic Jerusalem.

We had been tipped off by some Good Samaritans beforehand that Jez Butterworth‘s play comes in at a staggering 3 hours 20 minutes with two intervals. Christ! We could have flown to the holy city in less time. To be honest the runes were not looking auspicious and the Whingers were on their knees praying to the God of theatre (why has he foresaken us?) to intervene with some technical problem which would necessitate the whole thing being called off and refunds given.