Absurd Person Singular, Garrick
Women of Troy, Lyttelton
Cinderella, Old Vic
Five years as a critic and I’ve never seen anything by Alan Ayckbourn. With a flicker of apprehension in my heart I took my seat at the Garrick. Absurd Person Singular (nice title, nothing to do with the play) begins at a bourgeois drinks party. Calamity unfolds. Wife forgets to buy tonic, dons mackintosh, exits into rain via back door, returns from off-licence, finds back door locked so must re-enter house via front door without being spotted by guests because rained-on mac looks silly. See her problem? Nor did I, but the comedy of the first act rests entirely on one’s ability to sympathise with this trifling dilemma. Act two climaxes with the same woman emptying a bowl of water over her husband. The third act culminates with a game of musical forfeits.
I was flabbergasted.
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