We all know that video killed the radio star. Yet radio stars, especially of the singing sort, and their television counterparts in the Fifties didn’t do much for the moribund tradition of twice-nightly British Variety. This slow death of a whole branch of entertainment is fecund dramatic terrain, already poignantly explored by John Finnemore in The Straight Man and, of course, John Osborne with The Entertainer. Jack Shepherd has precious little to add to this subject but nonetheless proceeds to spend over two hours adding it.
We’re at the Leeds Empire, where we learn that the theatre manager is in a reet pickle. Reg Henson (impressive Jim Bywater), an obnoxious soak of an old comic, is about to be dislodged from his top-dog slot by sharp young radio performer Janey Shore (Nicole Schneider). This grimly unfunny scenario proceeds lumpenly to embroil every one of the succession of stock characters, including the tap-dancer, who is having an affair with one of the lesser comedians, and his hatchet-faced old boot of a wife.
Unsurprisingly, doubts over Reg’s place in the billing, plus concomitant dressing room arrangements, aren’t enough to sustain an entire play, although Shepherd would clearly like them to be. He tries to twist the thing into a sombre thesis on working-class entertainers and audiences, but Nicky Henson’s excitement-free production just drifts along like a wet weekend in Grimsby.
Although it’s a blessed relief to be spared most of the wretched-sounding acts, we desperately need to see Reg in full flow for his situation to have any sort of meaning for us. We don’t, yet heaven knows we could use a laugh.
Until 2 May. Information: 020 7503 1646, www.arcolatheatre.com.
Only When I Laugh
Arcola Theatre
Arcola Street, E8 2DJ
