Paul in London

It's once, twice, three times the er charm(?) at the Kings Head Theatre this Christmas when the ever popular play F*cking Men. The play already has been extended since starting last summer and enters its third month. This time there the production will be streamlined with three actors playing all ten roles... While that sounds exhausting there potentially is a touring future for the show. Check out details at the theatre's website . The play that dare not print its entire name runs through to 9 January.

After watching Gary Kitching’s improvised performance at Oval House Theatre , Me and Mr C, you realise that you probably had the most fun you could invent for an evening. On our night, audience members were chanting “Pigfucker! Pigfucker! Pigfucker!” as part of a lesson in organised heckling, while the remainder of us were rolling around in hysterics at the premise. Kitching has come up with an act that derives its humour from getting the audience to do stuff. Lots of stuff. And amazingly everyone does what they are told.

Anita and Me, currently playing at Theatre Royal Stratford East covers Meera Syal's life growing up in 1970s West Midlands. It was an era of chain smoking, flares and glam rock. But something feels lost in the translation from book to stage production. It feels like it is a series of random encounters with northern stereotypes. Not much happens in this slice of life comedy-drama and the accompanying music often serves to distract from the story making the show less involving than it should be.

The second of the joint of the joint winners of the inaugural Theatre 503 Play writing Award, Valhalla ,   is an intriguing and at times frightening tale on science, mythology and a marriage on the edge. This two-hander starts off seemingly normal. Man, a genetic scientist is researching a cure for an epidemic killing thousands. His wife, Woman, is a GP. They are trying for a baby and she is having trouble conceiving. Chaos and rioting has erupted on the streets arising from the epidemic, so they head to a Nordic research facility so he can continue his work.

The Father is the story of one man as he “looses his leaves,” and through a series of fragmented scenes it is left to the audience to piece together what is happening to him. But the premise of jagged short scenes actually proves alienating and the dialogue is often unbelievable. What we learn over the course of this piece is that Andre is 80 years old. He was once a tap dancer. He lives with his daughter Anne and her husband Antoine. Or he was an engineer whose daughter Anne lives in London with her new lover. Bit by bit fragments of his life are colliding as age takes its toll. Are those around him helping him or have they other plans?

  And Then Come the Nightjars , currently playing at Theatre 503 , is a funny and at times touching two-hander that charts the period of the foot and mouth outbreak in 2001 and its aftermath from the perspective a a farmer in South Devon and his friend and local vet. It is astonishing to watch such a finely drawn characterisations  and a beautiful looking production in the intimate space of Theatre 503.

As we approach the centenary of his birth, Arthur Miller’s first produced play gets a classy revival with a terrific cast at the Kings Head Theatre . The premise of the work is that David, a mid western automobile mechanic has the Midas touch. Everything he touches turns to gold. He gets the girl he wants (against her father’s wishes), he runs a successful automobile mechanic business (after a chance encounter with another mechanic). He even opens a gas station which just by luck then has a freeway run past it. But as his family and friends struggle with their lives despite their hard work and perseverance, David struggles to enjoy his success. And as he waits for his luck to turn he slowly descends into madness.

The old keep living and the young are dying. It is all a bit random and unpredictable with these birthdays, deaths and marriages in hamlet is dead. no gravity. It is one of four pieces playing as part of the Volta International Festival at the Arcola Theatre . The work by German writer Ewald Palmetshofer is both fascinating, challenging and amusing. The work deals with the premise about how people tend to tense up in uncomfortable situations, be it the mother who longs for her mother to be dead, a marriage of convenience, an unexplained death or a brother and sister who seem awfully close. Things gradually build to an unexpected climax.

Gypsy has been running since April, and four months in Imelda Staunton’s performance as the mother of all stage mothers is still fascinating, exciting and exhausting to watch. It's amazing showcase in stamina, guts and determination, and that's just working with the material. Staunton previously managed to give new meaning and depth to the role of Mrs Lovett in Sweeney Todd. Here she gives a dramatic sense of determination and vulnerability to the role. And what lingers after the show is her exquisite vocals that give a velvety depth to the character. While there is an album from the show , after hearing her sing in this show I really want to hear her  sing jazz standards. Afterall she knows how to writhe every possible meaning out of a lyric.

Brief encounters never seemed hotter in this latest revival of Joe DiPietro’s comedy-drama play, Fucking Men . In part due to the sexy cast and witty one liners but also because it is summer and pub theatres are hot at the best of times. The work had its premiere in 2009 at the Kings Head and went on to have a long run and transfer to the West End. It is presented here as part of the It is running as part of the King’s Head Gay Theatre Festival.

Addiction, sex, rehab and other filthy words make up this high energy play by Stephen Adly Guirgis which has been running since June at the National Theatre … The Motherfucker With The Hat has potentially been a drawback as a title since it prevents people from fully explaining the play and what it is about in so-called family or decent publications. But my blog is not one of those. Jackie, a small time (and not very good) dope dealer is just out of jail and he has got a job, he is sober and his life is looking up. He is about to catch up with his girlfriend for and afternoon of sex, when he notices a hat in the room. It’s a man’s hat and it is not his. He checks the hat. He smells the hat. He checks the unmade bed and then he smells the bed... For the next one hour forty-five minutes as his life unravels, there are a series of hilarious scenes and interplay between the characters on stage. And an awful lot of filthy words. It is a terrific cast although you get the sense it mus

Jekyll and Hyde is a thoughtful gender reversal of this classic tale with some seriously atmospheric theatrical tricks up its sleeve.  The piece adapted by writer director Jonathan Holloway has already been to London (albeit in a shortened form) in an equally interesting and shocking production . Here things are fleshed out a little more and are infused with some pretty impressive production values for a fringe production, which is a co production with Hong Kong’s Chung Ying Theatre Company.

One woman’s descent from a haute-cuisine head-chef to convicted inmate provides for some mouth watering entertainment in Sabrina Mahfouz’s Chef at the Soho Theatre . While it is not necessarily an unexpected journey, it provides enough interest for its short duration to make you wish you were not watching it on an empty stomach. It all starts with a peach. With the simplest of ingredients,   Jade Anouka takes us through a range of courses that track her culinary career and the events that lead to her ending up in jail. Food as her passion comes out more strongly in this piece than the stories of her troubled teenage years, domestic life and the need to keep things level while behind bars. The dialogue is so evocative of food, its preparation and presentation that it is bound to make you hungry.

The sphincter of modern life as viewed from a grimy, and gritty (well they live by the beach so sand in the house must be hell) American marriage is both absurd and fascinating in Mongrel Thumb’s production of The Dead Monkey . From the minute you enter the smaller space of the Park Theatre it is as if you are transported to California where the sun, sand and surf are so enticing that people just drop out of life. Sure you may be living in poverty but what a lifestyle with linoleum floors, distressed furniture, an endless supply of oranges. But it is all incredibly evocative and alluring. 

The Clockmaker’s Daughter is an exciting new piece of musical theatre, full of promise and some terrific music. It has landed at the Landor Theatre  and with its charm, strong performances and production values, it will no doubt keep enthralling audiences. What is most intriguing is how this original work by Michael Webborn and Daniel Finn , appears so fully formed and seemingly ready to move on to bigger or better things after the London fringe.

An ingenious staging in the round and some rousing numbers (in the second half) may still have you wondering about the point of this revival of High Society at the Old Vic Theatre, a show that was probably best left on film rather than attempting to transfer it to a staged musical. The production is quite marvellous to look at. Things just pop up from the floor - stages, tables with umbrellas, second pianos. There is even some on-stage cooking of breakfast and as someone who loves the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the morning (although it could have been pancakes - I wasn’t sitting close enough), it was pure bliss. But by casting actors who are not the best singers, the shine seems to be missing in this frothy, superfluous musical, giving it a grittier feel that does not quite sit with it’s farcical and escapist plot.

It's well known that key messages espoused by politicians these days are the product of carefully considered focus groups and research. But here in the Candidate, it takes this a step further, suggesting that everything is up for grabs in shaping a new leader, presently bereft of any thought. It proves for an amusing and topical diversion. Arriving at the rather dreary looking 119 Farringdon Road, the former offices of The Guardian, and home to Theatre Delicatessen, you are ushered into a room and told that you would be taking part in what is described as a unique polling session. The Candidate, Omar Ibrahim , is seeking views (in this case the unsuspecting audience members) to help shape his ideals, policy and image. He can be whatever you want or need him to be, adjusted to suit the tastes of the theatregoers.

The Lonely Soldier Monologues , currently playing at the Cockpit Theatre, by Helen Benedict takes the stories of seven women who served in the US Armed forces in Iraq and Afghanistan. What emerges from this verbatim play is the subtle and none-too subtle methods of discrimination and sexual harassment that they suffer serving in the armed forces. The piece is not anti-war or anti-military; for many of these women the serving in the Armed services was a way to show patriotic duty after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, or just a way off welfare. But it highlights many of the excesses known from the Iraq and Afghanistan campaigns, in war so poorly planned and organised that soldiers had to make do without body armour but could still eat lobster.

One of the lasting memories about watching the 9/11 terrorist attacks unfold live on television was wondering what would happen next. There was the first tower, then the second, then the Pentagon, and then somewhere in middle America. A few weeks later there would be the anthrax scare , the need to be alert but not alarmed , and to buy up duct tape . In the immediate post 9/11 period there was so much paranoia about how clever and evil the perpetrators of this terrorist attack were, that anything next was possible. Product , currently playing at the Arcola Theatre, is Mark Ravenhill's monologue about the pitching of a dubious script. It brings back the memories of the worst of this post 9/11 paranoia.

A sexy cast, terrific dancing and high drama make In The Dead of Night a fun, fascinating and classy take on the film noir thrillers of old Hollywood. The dialogue is clipped, the dancing is tight and the bodies are hot. So hot you can smell the sweat coming off them. Or it might be baby oil looking like sweat... The Landor Theatre is a pretty intimate space so sometimes nothing is left to the imagination. In the Dead of Night is set in a dodgy South American shanty town at the end of the war, and  everyone is on the take. The men work on the docks. The women sell their bodies. And if the men are up for it they sell their bodies too.