The glitteringest night out in theatreland. Shame the play was a dud.

I'm a lady, etc ad infinitum

Call us philistines. Tell us we’ve not done our homework. Inform us we have the attention spans of gnats after a couple of shandy-boozes. But why do plays have to be so goddamn boring? It’s like they’re daring you to get up, shout and walk out sometimes.

Take last night. The setting for the premiere of Harold Pinter’s No Man’s Land could not have been more glamorous. The Duke of York’s Theatre in London’s glittering St. Martin’s Lane (right opposite Bungalow 8, which we were very pleasantly surprised by on Saturday evening. Very! Very, we say thrice).

The audience? Stellar! Russell Brand, Germaine Greer, Charles Dance, Dominic Cooper, Lesley Duncan, names, sweetie, names (and all the right names).

So, why didn’t they stop while they were ahead? Instead they wheel out Michael Gambon (off-of Brideshead Revisited), David Bradley, Nick Dunning and David Walliams of Little Britain fame – pictured here in ladies’ apparel in the Observer’s Woman magazine on Sunday – and allow them to bore dangly bits off of us for two hours!

Sample bit of dialogue (and we’re paraphrasing) after the jump…

A: I’m changing the subject for the last time.

B: For the last time?

A: For the last time.

B: That means the subject will be the same for ever more. Like winter. No spring will come.

A: Never.

B: What is the subject that can never be changed?

A: The subject that can never be changed is that the subject can never be changed.

B: What was the previous subject?

A: That subject has been changed.

B: For the last time?

A: For the last time ever. It can never be changed again.

B: What never?

A: No, it has been changed for the last time. Ever.

Imagine that for 120 minutes with only a glass of wine halfway to get you through it and tell us: is it us?

We thought the stellar audience bounded to its feet with actual cheers because it was mums and aunts of the cast (if any of them are still alive) but all the clever newspapers have come in with good reviews… 

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3 comments to “The glitteringest night out in theatreland. Shame the play was a dud.”

  1. I hate most plays I’ve ever seen. And I don’t care if people think I’m a Philistine, coz i ain’t. It’s a typical bourgeois response to say if you don’t like a play you’re just stupid. Why? If you say you don’t like Coronation Street, people don’t automatically assume you’re stupid, because the medium is deemed less ‘artistic’, even though television is arguably the most important art form that has ever existed. Besides, I’m allowed to say plays are shit because I have a Masters in English LIterature from a very expensive university. Na-na-na-na-naaaaaaaa.
    Oh, and you’re generally onto a bad thing when the name Pinter is involved in a play in any way whatsoever…
    *wakes up*
    Blimey, don’t know what came over me there. I need to take a silly pill.

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  2. I saw Harold Pinter in the Wolseley the other day.
    He looked boring. Not bored, just boring.

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  3. P.O.W. Lulu is so right, but could have been more economical with the keyboard.

    Pile Of Wank.

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