★★★

“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…

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood”

Anna Morris’s darkly comic one-woman play Son of a Bitch arrives at Southwark Playhouse following a successful run at the 2024 Edinburgh Festival Fringe. With a provocative title and an intriguing premise, the show delves into themes of motherhood, societal pressure, and personal regret, balancing sharp humour with moments of introspection.

The play follows Marnie (played by Morris), a yoga instructor in her late 30s, whose life is upended when a fellow passenger records her calling her young son the C-word during a flight. The video goes viral, but rather than focusing on the fallout of this moment, the narrative primarily explores the lead-up to this event, questioning the unspoken realities of motherhood.

Morris delivers an energetic and engaging performance, effortlessly slipping into the various characters that populate Marnie’s world. From her overbearing northern mother to her intensely posh flatmate, Morris’s character work is sharply observed and often very funny. The writing brims with witty one-liners, earning consistent laughs; a line about men who look like prawns and another about depressed women in bathtubs get particularly loud chuckles. There’s a definite influence of stand-up comedy in Morris’s delivery, adding a lively rhythm to the script.

Under Madelaine Moore’s direction, the production is tightly paced and effectively staged, ensuring that the transitions between past and present feel fluid and dynamic. Visually, the production is cleverly designed. The set consists of corporate blue carpeted flooring, a white chair at its centre, and two curved “C” shape structures forming a circular shape behind it; an effective nod both to the claustrophobic setting of an aeroplane and a visual play on the word Marnie uses against her child. Lighting Design by Megan Lucas subtly shifts to reflect different moods: cold and corporate one moment, then warm and golden as Marnie parodies the ‘glow’ of motherhood. Another standout element is the use of captioning, also designed by Lucas. Displayed in a rectangular screen above the stage, the captions adapt in font and style to represent different speakers and even simulate text messages, demonstrating a well-thought-out integration of accessibility and storytelling.

The narrative structure of Son of a Bitch mirrors the spiralling nature of Marnie’s situation, moving fluidly between past and present. While this approach effectively builds intrigue, it could sometimes do with further clarity, with a multitude of names and details occasionally jumping around too loosely. Additionally, while Marnie’s husband is positioned as an unsympathetic figure – choosing to upgrade himself to business class rather than sit with his wife and child – his character feels somewhat two-dimensional, leaving questions about why these two people were together in the first place.

Beneath the humour, the play raises compelling questions about societal expectations of motherhood. A particularly striking moment comes when Marnie is asked whether she would regret not having children, only for her to subvert the question and ask what would happen instead if she regrets having one. There’s also an underexplored but poignant subplot involving a gay friend who reveals that his lack of children wasn’t a choice, but something he had to grieve. These moments hint at deeper, thought-provoking themes, though at times they feel fleeting.

While the play is consistently engaging, its pacing remains largely unchanged throughout. Moments that could have built towards greater emotional intensity or a stronger sense of escalation maintain the same rhythm, which at times lessens the dramatic impact. However, Morris’s charisma ensures the piece remains compelling. She establishes an immediate rapport with the audience, and her command of comedy ensures that the story is as entertaining as it is thought-provoking.

Overall, this is a sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood. While its central premise is striking, the surrounding narrative could delve deeper into its themes. Nonetheless, Morris’s performance is magnetic, making this an enjoyable and insightful performance.

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

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood”

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 18th February 2025

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Steve Gregson

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH