One Man, Two Guvnors, Adelphi Theatre, review - Telegraph

Laugh? I nearly died!

In the play’s greatest scene, one of the most hilarious I have ever seen in a theatre, he simultaneously serves dinner to his two guvnors while reserving large quantities of food for himself, aided and abetted by an ancient and doddery waiter (the sublimely comical Tom Edden) who keeps falling down the stairs, and a member of the audience who suffers no end of humiliations. If you don’t laugh at this scene it can only be because you have already expired with mirth at the show’s previous gags.

The reviews are entirely justified. This one sequence alone is comedy slapstick heaven, and the whole building was shaking with laughter.

It's Always Right Now, Until It's Later | Theatre review | Culture | The Guardian

Technically speaking, this is a review of Daniel Kitson’s show from the Edinburgh Fringe Festival from Summer 2010. I saw the same show last Friday, staged at the National Theatre, but couldn’t find any recent coverage so this will have to do:

“This is not a love story,” insists Kitson at the outset. Yet in its ripe, swelling humanity and its compassionate eye for all that is both good and sad in human existence, it very much is. It is a love letter to the human race, and all of us who lead ordinary, quiet lives and yet still leave our mark on the world, whether it is in a simple exchange at a bus stop or a tree planted that grows to maturity long after we are forgotten.

Over the past ten years, I’ve been fortunate to see Daniel Kitson perform about four times. It’s not been a deliberate following on my part; the opportunity to see him comes up and every now and then and I usually say yes. Last year I saw him on stage by accident, supporting Belle & Sebastian in Bournemouth, and didn’t realise who it was until much later.

The benefit of this is that, one of the few times in my life, I think I’ve witnessed firsthand the evolution of an artist. He started out doing stand-up (and won a Perrier Award for his efforts), did loads of experimental stuff in the middle, and now he’s fully transitioned into storytelling.

I’ve also watched him grow older, and fatter, and hairier. And of course, I’ve grown older too. There’s nothing profound to add to this, other than that creative progression, just like ageing, is a fine thing.

Hamlet, National Theatre, review - Telegraph

Saw this over the weekend, still buzzing from the experience:

Despite a receding hairline, (Actor Rory) Kinnear is very much the student prince in his hoodie and rumpled trousers. His bedroom is a disgusting mess, he doesn’t take off his trainers when he gets under the duvet and he even smokes a cigarette while delivering “To be or not to be”. But you can follow every shade of thought and flicker of emotion in the soliloquies, which are delivered with a beautiful mixture of intellect and feeling.

Beneath the anger, the bipolar mood swings, and the disguise of madness that Hamlet adopts, Kinnear also discovers a strong sense of morality in the character, and an endearing warmth and humour. No actor can capture the full elusive complexity of Hamlet, but Kinnear often comes thrillingly close.

Given the three and a half hour runtime, you needn’t worry about nodding off midway through. It’s a barnstorming production from beginning to end, and the added political allegory (Denmark is a modern dictatorship, complete with surveillance network and media manipulation) is not as ham-fisted as it could have been.