★★★★

“a blend of flippancy and gravity of which Daws is a master.”

‘Anything in life can be made better or more bearable with a joke’. It is a phrase that informed the life of P. G. Wodehouse and, indeed, the one-man show, “Wodehouse in Wonderland” starring Robert Daws as the writer and humourist. Following a successful tour in 2023, Daws is gearing up for the Edinburgh fringe with a shortened version of William Humble’s gently captivating monologue. Condensed into one act, the show is full of witticisms, epigrams and one-liners, all told with the perfect balance of charm and self-deprecation by Daws who manages to embody Wodehouse’s mix of affection and satire. It is a very English affair, until just over mid-way through, Daws opens up emotionally while touching on the tragedies Wodehouse experienced.

Humble frames the anecdotes within the structure of a letter dictated to Wodehouse’s adopted daughter, Leonora. Director Robin Herford ensures a natural flow, aware of the dynamics and conversational realism. Daws, therefore, has us in the palm of his hand so we feel that we are his sole focus of attention, sipping cocktails with him in his Long Island study. He breaks away from his letter to his daughter to address an unseen biographer whose questions he has reluctantly agreed to answer. Through these dual devices we learn a lot about the life of Wodehouse and his working methods. His early successes, particularly as a lyricist and songwriting partner to Jerome Kern. It is fitting that this also allows him to burst into song occasionally, displaying his comfortably period vocals, reminiscent of the cabaret artists of the 1920s.

Little known facts about Wodehouse are teased out alongside the obvious, and Daws makes the words speak for themselves. Wodehouse, a naturally reticent character, liked to disappear into his imagination and the characters (most notably Jeeves and Wooster) that sprung from his fertile mind are brought vividly to life by Daws. Jeeves, in particular, is almost as real as his wife Ethel, who we occasionally hear from offstage. We dip into darker territory as we learn of his experiences in the second world war, and the backlash he suffered from his ill-informed “Berlin Broadcasts” about his experiences as a prisoner of war – the one time his anecdotal humour backfired for him, indirectly leading to his self-imposed exile to America.

We return to the more light-hearted matters with ease and with a blend of flippancy and gravity of which Daws is a master. A fine actor, he eschews impersonation, opting to let Wodehouse’s philosophy and outlook on life inform his portrayal of the character. ‘I’ve never found it hard to be happy’ Wodehouse would say. ‘After all, what’s the alternative?’. This phrase makes the darker, tragic aspects of his life all the more poignant. Yes, anything in life can be made better or more bearable with a joke.

Joking aside, though, this production is a heartfelt tribute that brings to life not just Wodehouse but the many characters – fictional and real – that shaped his destiny. Told with utmost charm, warmth and nuance, it is the perfect cocktail hour. And it goes down just as well as one of Bertie Wooster’s signature brandy and sodas.

THE WHITE CHIP

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“There is a lot of fun to be had along the way in this remarkable piece”

There’s an old joke that has been doing the rounds for quite some time now, that goes something along the lines of ‘quitting alcohol is easy… I’ve done it hundreds of times’. It is a very apt phrase for Steven, the protagonist of Sean Daniels’ profoundly autobiographical play “The White Chip”. Steven has relapsed many times; the titular ‘white chip’ is a token given to a newcomer or somebody returning to an ‘Alcoholics Anonymous’ programme, signifying the beginning of a journey towards recovery and sobriety. There’s an obvious flippancy to the above one-liner, but like many jokes it is rooted in truth. Daniels knows that the best way to get a serious message across is to dress it up in fine humour, and in this respect, his play is the epitome of style. There are many laughs that, on close inspection, are dangerously close to the bone.

Steven tasted his first beer as a pre-teen. His first sip tasted terrible. The second wasn’t so bad, and by the third his love affair with booze began. Love affair? An abusive relationship. For much of his adult life Steven is a functioning alcoholic. He graduates, he creates a successful theatre company, gets married. He is riding high. In tandem, however, his marriage is on the rocks, he distances himself from his ailing parents, he loses his job. He is plunging low. We follow Steven through various trials, witnessing his tactics to keep his destructive drinking habit secret. Ed Coleman, as Steven, gets right to the core of the character, portraying him with striking realism. It is almost impossible to see where Daniels ends and Coleman begins – writer and actor becoming one and the same. Sentimentality is abandoned as Coleman recounts his tale, for the most part addressing the audience while at other times slipping into dialogue with the many people his tumultuous life affects. Mara Allen and Ashlee Irish take on these characters with brilliant and stylised multi-rolling: colleagues, drinking buddies and, with aching poignancy, the suffering parents. Allen’s portrayal of Steven’s mother – also a recovering alcoholic – is cutting and compassionate, extremely funny and ultimately moving.

But it is Coleman, with his chiselled physicality and expert hold on the text, that commands our attention. Daniels’ writing, which has the feel of an extended monologue, resonates with shades of a more family-friendly Hunter S. Thompson. Matt Ryan directs with a masterful eye on the essence of the piece. Allan and Irish continually orbit Coleman’s central character, pulling the anchor away from this desperate character, but eventually helping him find his moorings. Lee Newby’s stark set relies on simplicity: stacked chairs like a Manhattan skyline and a roving table are all that are needed to evoke the various locations, while Jamie Platt’s lighting throws us into the shadows of Steven’s mind only to repeatedly pull us into the glaring reality of his illness with the bright, cold lights of an AA meeting hall.

We learn a lot about the backstory, the lapsed Mormon background and thwarted ambitions. We gain little understanding, however, as to the reasons for Steven’s descent into dependency. But that is the fundamental point. The most common answer to the question of ‘how did it get this far?’ is invariably ‘I don’t know’. Daniels’ play makes no claims to address this. Instead, it addresses the fall out and, more importantly, the potential for recovery. Split into two halves, the balance favours the drinking days leaving us less time to appreciate the road to recovery. But Daniels makes that road more accessible, stripping away the barbed brambles of stigma. His brutal honesty and humour destroy any sense of shame. Fundamentally a true story, it is a heartfelt confession and, in a way, a love letter to those that helped him – in particular his own mother. At a crossroads in his life, Steven (and by extension Daniels) needs to make a decision to live or die. He calls his mother who steers him from the edge, keeps him on the phone for ten whole hours, and saves his life. Even if you haven’t come close to this sort of experience you cannot fail to be moved. But if you do relate to it personally in any fashion, it is authentically powerful, deeply moving and sad, yet steeped in hope.

There is a lot of fun to be had along the way in this remarkable piece, with affectionate jibes at religion and psychobabble. There is a slight tendency towards self-satisfaction towards the closing moments, but we can overlook that. “The White Chip” is a revelation. Intimate, honest, challenging, sensitive but funny too.

WODEHOUSE IN WONDERLAND

Theatre at the Tabard

★★★★

“a blend of flippancy and gravity of which Daws is a master.”

WODEHOUSE IN WONDERLAND

Theatre at the Tabard

Reviewed on 21st July 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WODEHOUSE IN WONDERLAND

WODEHOUSE IN WONDERLAND

WODEHOUSE IN WONDERLAND

THE WHITE CHIP

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“There is a lot of fun to be had along the way in this remarkable piece”

THE WHITE CHIP

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 15th July 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Danny Kaan

Last ten shows reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

THE WHITE CHIP

THE WHITE CHIP

THE WHITE CHIP

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