This adaptation of the John Osborne play from 1957 was nothing short of a travesty. Archie Rice is no longer the washed up song and dance man, but in 1982 he is a disgustingly unfunny stand up comedian. And in the hands of Shane Richie, all the more so. The Suez crisis is replaced by the Falklands War and Maggie Thatcher. A big mistake. The jokes are cruder and nastier. Too many times Archie Rice reappears for more of his routine. He has turned something comically rude into an act that is sickeningly vulgar. When stand up is done this badly (yes, I know he is meant to be past his sell by date) it is just an embarrassment.
The stand up alternates with scenes in the Rice household where seediness rules. Unfortunately the acting is no better. I have distinct memories of Sara Crowe as a wonderful comedy actress. Her performance in Private Lives in 1990 won her the Olivier Award for best supporting actress and she toured in Alan Aykbourne's Absurd Person Singular. But here, as Phoebe Rice, her pitch is a constant whine and so disappointing. Pip Donaghy is marginally better as grandfather Billy Rice, but his constant angry pitch was a bore.
Thank goodness for Diana Vickers as the daughter, a more human and intelligent voice in this theatrical desert.
My last thoughts were that an update to modern day might have been better. A failing stand up mocked for sexism, a family disintegrating into social media and the background of the war in Afghanistan. Something we could all relate to with a script more suited to the actors abilities. Instead we get the worst production of a play I have ever had the misfortune to attend. I should have joined those that left in the interval.
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