★★★

“None of what follows would be remotely plausible without the sterling performance of Johnson Willis who wholly inhabits the fractious rebel”

Stilted Guitar Dalek, poet, philosopher and musical pioneer Wilko Johnson enjoys yet another resurgence in writer Jonathan Maitland’s affectionate stage biography.

The Dr Feelgood founder was famously diagnosed with terminal cancer in 2012 but remarkably lived another decade or so. At his farewell concert in Camden in 2013 he was so spritely for a dead man walking that a doctor friend suggested he might be a candidate for a life-saving op. And so it came about.

However, we meet the musician just after his initial diagnosis and find him in good spirits.
“I can live with it,” he says of his cancer. “I can be alive with it.”

The death sentence takes him back to the beginning, to his Canvey Island youth, abusive father, teenage love and musical escape.

None of what follows would be remotely plausible without the sterling performance of Johnson Willis who wholly inhabits the fractious rebel. His nasal intonation, coupled with his studied over pronunciation and stiff physicality bring to mind Kenneth Williams as a Thunderbirds puppet.

Director Dugald Bruce-Lockhart’s production takes us on a journey of Essex, drugs and rock’n’roll as Wilko discovers a way of adapting the blues to fit his version of England – all oil terminals, chip shops and clinches under the pier. Dr Feelgood produce a clipped and insistent interpretation of R&B that brings them chart success and paves the way for punk.

The cast, who previously provided cameos to illustrate Wilko’s fragmented origin story, comes together to form Dr Feelgood and everything makes sense, both for Wilko and the audience.

Georgina Field (bass), David John (drums), and Jon House (vocals and harmonica) are a tight unit. House’s Lee Brilleaux, in particular, brings his A-game to offer up a rug-burning explosion of dad rock.

In Maitland’s unbalanced re-telling, the play rushes past the Dr Feelgood heyday too early, dismissing the intriguing artistic spat between Wilko and Brilleaux in a few unhelpful lines. The reasons why Dr Feelgood went on to greater success without their destructive songwriter are never explored.

Afterwards, with Wilko drifting, the play seems to run out of momentum, and we are left – along with Wilko – mourning the passing of his sparky wife Irene (a lovely performance by Georgina Fairbanks) who stayed with him despite his numerous cruel infidelities.

Little wonder then that the production uses Wilko’s second lease of life and his Scrooge-like transformation to bring about a fantasy Dr Feelgood reunion gig which adds little dramatic coherence but gives the audience what they want when they need it most.

The Guardian once wrote that Wilko Johnson was “a 100-1 shot to be our Greatest Living Englishman”. We get glimpses of that cantankerous, selfish, charismatic and much-cherished artist, but this production is frustratingly incurious about the contradictions, aspiring to be kind rather than clinical. Feelgood by name…

HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR MOTHER at the King’s Head Theatre

★★★

“there are some lovely moments, and some laudable dialogue between Maitland and his wife”

How to Survive Your Mother is the newest play from playwright and former journalist Jonathan Maitland, dramatising the work of his 2007 memoir of the same name. Working with director Oliver Dawe, this play explores Maitland’s relationship with his mother, throughout his childhood and early adulthood, as she hot desks her way through different men, and opens up Britain’s first ever gay hotel (this definitely didn’t get enough attention).

Whilst the piece is strewn with moments of humour and astute observation, it was let down by a distinct lack of theatrical action. And by this, I mean a narrative arc; a dramatic structure; a climactic rise and fall, punctuated by catharsis. A play needn’t be a tragedy to necessitate such structures. Perhaps Maitland is jarred by his journalistic instincts, veering into the realm of witty and engaging reporting, but at the expense of theatrical flow. Thus, in lacking direction, the play also lacked pace, making the 90 minutes – sans interval – drag somewhat.

The work lacked that je ne sais quoi that electrifies theatre into life. It felt more like a loose montage of memories of Maitland’s mother’s outrageous displays of narcissism and abuse, than a constructed account of his mother and their relationship. So perhaps, actually, I do sais quoi, and it is the pressing lack of a coherent narrative.

Whilst both play and staging did feel overly busy at times, the set design (Louie Whitemore) and use of props were accomplished and inventive. I especially enjoyed a birthday cake’s transformation into a steering wheel, and shortly after, an airbag.

Within the small cast, majority were multi-rolling, and excellently so, interspersing humour and subtlety into their every character. Personally and perhaps unfairly, I have a long-held vendetta against child actors, and the inclusion of a child (Brodie Edwards and Howard Webb, alternately) in this play did not help to dispel my prejudice.

Maitland has his own role on stage: he appears as himself in the present day action, addressing the audience, and sometimes his wife. At other times, he just circles the stage, or plops himself down in the audience for long stretches. Whilst his self-effacing commentary on both this choice and his lack of acting ability is amusing – and fascinating on a meta-theatrical level – it undermines the dramatic action, detracting focus from the scene itself.

The play, as one would assume, revolves around Maitland’s mother. And whilst he does point out that he has written ‘a play, not a diagnosis’, his mother dabbles in all sorts of textbook narcissism. The problem with narcissists, though, is that they often straddle charisma and malice simultaneously (PSA: I’m not a psychiatrist). The problem with the portrayal here is that, as effervescent as Emma Davies is, Maitland’s mother is consistently selfish, nasty, and completely objectionable. And with the absence of a narrative arc compelling us to her, it’s hard to develop a strong enough interest in both her and her relationship with her son.

It is the lack of coherence and narrative that lets this play down. Despite this, there are some lovely moments, and some laudable dialogue between Maitland and his wife, largely deliberating on the nature of The Female Middle Age Crisis to Trained Therapist pipeline.

Oedipus did a great job of sparking our collective obsession with mother-son relationships, and Maitland’s new play is an interesting addition. But Oedipus also excelled in its very story, without which there is little appeal. How to Survive your Mother, whilst entertaining, needs this appeal if it is to also be affecting.

WILKO

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“None of what follows would be remotely plausible without the sterling performance of Johnson Willis who wholly inhabits the fractious rebel”

WILKO

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 24th March 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Mark Sepple

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WILKO

WILKO

WILKO

HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR MOTHER at the King’s Head Theatre

★★★

“there are some lovely moments, and some laudable dialogue between Maitland and his wife”

HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR MOTHER at the King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed on 28th October 2024

by Violet Howson

Photography by Charles Flint

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR MOTHER

HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR MOTHER