★★★★

“There are complex emotions and issues on show here, that are delivered with warmth and humour – and at times with quite a punch”

The opening of Eduardo De Filippo’s “Filumena” finds the title character on her deathbed with Domenico, her partner of twenty-five years, gallantly agreeing to marry her before she gasps her last breath. However, we never see this – it all happens before curtain-up, in another room of Domenico’s opulent Neapolitan villa. What we do witness, though, is the aftermath when Filumena miraculously springs back to life and the ruse is revealed.

Matthew Kelly, as Domenico, is in his element as he wails to the heavens at the injustices of finding himself duped. Not only is his pride wounded, but his plans of marrying the much younger Diana are annihilated. Felicity Kendal’s Filumena is no fool. A pocket-rocket of passion she gives as good as she gets, and we soon learn that her motives are far more honourable than mere vengeance. The couple have lived together for a quarter of a century, ever since the wealthy Domenico lured Filumena away from her life of prostitution and, although that particular career path is a thing of the past, there are three things that have followed her into her dotage. Namely three sons – now strapping lads in their mid-twenties. Filumena wants the wedding ring on her finger to legitimise them. Domenico is having none of that; so cue the lawyers, tantrums, buried grievances, hidden mistresses, histrionics and De Filippo’s gorgeous, if lengthy, dialogue. The two protagonists have much to get their teeth into, and they do so with abandoned relish.

The Italian fervour is slightly sanded down in Keith Waterhouse and Willis Hall’s translation, but it still retains a potent mix of acidity and affection. Kendal transforms her character from that of a calculated schemer to a woman with a deep inner strength, warmth and hard-won resolve. Kelly’s sense of privilege is challenged, not just by his mistress, but by an awakening empathy and brooding responsibility. It is no spoiler to tell you that one of Filumena’s sons turns out to be Domenico’s too. But which one? The second act opens with a delicious scene in which Domenico steers the seemingly casual conversation to try and detect in the young men any genetic similarities to himself.

But it is far from a two-hander. The supporting cast are excellent. Gavin Fowler, Fabrizio Santino and George Banks each have a chance to share the spotlight. It is perhaps a little odd that they are so accepting of their new circumstances, having only recently discovered who their mother is. We presume, too, that they have each been brought up independently, although the sibling dynamic is strong. Sarah Twomey’s Lucia, the maid, is loving the family upheaval. Flirtatious and vivacious, Twomey lights up the stage at every opportunity.

Morgan Large’s lush drawing room set gives us a real sense of grandeur although less of a feel of the period and the Neapolitan, sun-kissed location. Yet it sits well with the timeless nature of the action. There might have been more resonance when Filippo wrote the play in the immediate aftermath of the second world war, but the more contemporary backdrop translates well, sometimes making the wavering Italian accents seem unnecessary.

Sean Mathias’ slick direction vividly animates the static setting. It is a very wordy play, but at least there are as many moments of humour as well as insight and wisdom that Mathias brings to the fore. And the lead performers’ energy refuse to allow any dull moments to slip in. There are complex emotions and issues on show here, that are delivered with warmth and humour – and at times with quite a punch. When Filumena finally learns how to cry, we feel her tears too, yet the journey there has also been filled with plenty of laughter.

JEFFREY BERNARD IS UNWELL at The Coach and Horses, Soho

★★★★★

“Bathurst’s performance is a tour de force, capturing the pure essence of the wayward, accidental hero”

Jeffrey Bernard was a prolific writer. He was a prolific talker, drinker, gambler and womaniser too. But despite arriving each morning at the Coach and Horses pub in Soho, grey-faced and trembling, waiting for the doors to open, he managed to keep up (mostly) his contributions to the Spectator; his weekly “Low Life” columns eventually reaching four figures. Publishers naturally hovered with lucrative offers for his autobiography. When Faber dangled the juiciest carrot, Bernard placed an advert in The Spectator asking if any of its readers ‘could tell me what I was doing between 1960 to 1974?’. He never took the plunge, however, although he did write a spoof obituary of himself which epitomised the acute, self-deprecatory wit found in his columns.

Using the text from the Spectator “Low Life” columns, Keith Waterhouse’s play “Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell” opened in 1989 triumphantly starring Bernard’s friend and drinking companion Peter O’Toole. The Coach and Horses could well have been the rehearsal room. It is fitting, and also a masterstroke of theatricality, to stage a revival in the very pub where Bernard would prop up the bar by day, and by night.

Like the writing, the Coach and Horses on Greek Street conveys a bygone era. Photos on the walls commemorate the late and the great Bernard, cigarettes pile up in ashtrays and Double Diamond is advertised above the bar. Into the crowded room, Robert Bathurst’s Jeffrey Bernard comes crashing through the bar at five in the morning, having fallen asleep in the gents at closing time the previous night. Half-heartedly trying to get hold of the landlord to come and unlock the doors for him, he spends the next hour alternating between the vodka optic and regaling us with hilarious anecdotes. As he paces the bar, the prose trips off his tongue in flourishes of searing wit. Bathurst’s performance is a tour de force, capturing the pure essence of the wayward, accidental hero.

“Bathurst delivers the stories with brilliant insight”

The play’s title is lifted from the heading frequently used by the Spectator magazine to explain the absence of any writing; a euphemism of course. The context is rigidly set in a Soho that no longer exists and may lay itself open to accusations of being dated or insensitive to modern morals. We know what our protagonist would make of that and thankfully we would all still salute him. Even stand him a drink – if he wasn’t continually helping himself already.

James Hillier’s staging significantly cuts back the original text, but seemingly doesn’t cheat on the sharp-witted punchlines that accentuate each anecdote. Bernard had no qualms about making himself the target of his verbal attacks. He knew what he was, so there is no room for judgement nor shame, and absolutely no space for self-pity. Bathurst is well aware of the setting, and this honesty comes through unfiltered – the master raconteur that he is. He easily draws us into the world peopled by drunks, layabouts, criminals but also the likes of Dylan Thomas, Francis Bacon, Lucien Freud. Never sentimental, it is a love-letter – even a eulogy – to a bohemian Soho. A Soho that was dying at the same rate as Bernard himself in the closing decades of the twentieth century.

Aged fourteen, he made his first visit to Soho in 1946, and from that point he “never looked forward”. The life he led had perhaps fewer highs than lows, but it was, in his own words, “full of adventure and excess, and I wouldn’t change a single thing.” Bathurst delivers the stories with brilliant insight. We see the cragginess of a loveable rogue and laugh out loud. But we also glimpse the fallout. A short scene in Bernard’s hospital bed is surreally moving, as it resounds with metaphors, as though we are at the “bedside of a dying Soho, holding its hand wondering whether it is kinder to switch off the life support”.

The Coach and Horses has survived a corporate takeover in recent years and still retains its character. It is the perfect setting for this revival of the play, and with Bathurst as the host everyone is going to want to be a regular at the bar. So, get your round in quick.

FILUMENA at the Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★★

“There are complex emotions and issues on show here, that are delivered with warmth and humour – and at times with quite a punch”

FILUMENA at the Theatre Royal Windsor followed by UK Tour

Reviewed on 9th October 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Jack Merriman

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FILUMENA

FILUMENA

JEFFREY BERNARD IS UNWELL at The Coach and Horses, Soho

★★★★★

“Bathurst’s performance is a tour de force, capturing the pure essence of the wayward, accidental hero”

“Bathurst delivers the stories with brilliant insight”

JEFFREY BERNARD IS UNWELL at the Coach and Horses, Soho

Reviewed on 5th February 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Tom Howard

Top rated shows in January 2024:

JEFFREY BERNARD IS UNWELL

JEFFREY BERNARD IS UNWELL