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 – The Fastest Clock in the Universe, Hampstead Theatre

Dear Andrew,

It’s been a while since I’ve felt moved to write, but I know you need something to lift you out of your grump.

I know you feel unfairly robbed of the Nobel Peace Prize despite your exhaustive efforts in the Middle East, but the good news is the Whingers are in line for an Olivier Award for the play we’re yet to write, so thanks for displaying surprising largesse and unclipping my lead for a rare solo visit to the theatre.

Can it really be that long since you allowed me out alone?  The event seems to come round faster than Christmas or our interval exits from the Cottesloe, so appropriately my trip was to the Hampstead Theatre‘s revival of Philip Ridley‘s The Fastest Clock in the Universe.

Review: The Family Reunion at the Donmar Warehouse

One of the many differences between the Whingers is that Andrew doesn’t really “do” parties whereas Phil will seize on any event as an excuse to hold a party – a general election, the Eurovision Song Contest, the arrival of his water bill and so on.

But with one voice they can agree that the birthday party around which T.S. Eliot pegs The Family Reunion is one they would find any excuse to miss.