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 Cherry Orchard, National Theatre

“You’ll get in a right mess listening to words” says the all-knowing elderly butler Firs in Andrew Upton‘s version of The Cherry Orchard. And he’s quite right, Chekhov produced an awful lot of them and then adaptor Andrew Upton threw in a few of his own.

But unlike the critics who have gotten themselves into a real old tizzy about it the Whingers were in an unusually forgiving disposition.

It is true that “bozo” and a few other anachronisms occasionally jarred, as did “crap” and “bollocks”. But Andrew was quite happy when Upton pushed the anachronisms as far as taking a swipe at Phil’s favourite TV show with the line, “There’s nothing more repulsive than Loose Women.”

But it was when landowner Ranyevskaya drawled “Don’t waste your time watching plays – I bet it wasn’t funny at all,” that the Whingers realised that Upton was inviting them into bed with him. Let’s hope his wife Cate Blanchett rolls over and is happy to spoon.

Review – All My Sons, Apollo Theatre

Don’t see this as a review, think of it more as test to see just how hard the Whingers are.

Let us explain. At the opening night of All My Sons Charles Spencer found it “profoundly moving” and reported that “I even spotted a hardened fellow critic weeping”.

We know that he or she was not the only critic blubbing away that opening night – we bumped into another one emerging from the theatre daintily dabbing at his ducts with a Kleenex.

Perhaps Arthur Miller‘s play would work its magic and touch even the Whingers’ shrivelled hearts?

Well, we can’t exactly say we dissolved into tears when we found out they had sold out of programmes at the Apollo Theatre on Tuesday evening, but we were a little peeved.