Grumpy Old Women Live, Churchill Theatre, Bromley<img src="http://www.independent.co.uk/template/ver/gfx/fourstar.gif" height="1" width="1"/><img src="http://www.independent.co.uk/template/ver/gfx/fourstar.gif" height="10" width="47"/>

Julian Hall
Sunday 21 May 2006 19:00 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Dillie Keane is no stranger to musing on female foibles in an ensemble situation, as her work with Fascinating Aida in the Eighties shows. Twenty years on, Grumpy Old Women requires Keane (with Linda Robson and Jenny Eclair) to dispense similarly withering remarks on fashion and food fads - except without musical accompaniment, and with a tone that's more end of the pier than Noel Coward.

Having said that, the show does not lack sophistication. I particularly enjoyed it when the trio introduce themselves - and then do so again, for the benefit of any short-sighted audience members, as Su Pollard (Eclair), Esther Rantzen (Keane) and Wendy Richards (Robson).

The trio's gripes and groans, made famous on television, is acted out in a cosy living room set. Their complaints are not all gender-specific. I'm sure that the other men in the audience (all three of them) would join in the blood-rush experienced when complaining to shops and service providers. Nor are all the quirks age-specific: "Some days I even remember my pin number," quips Keane wistfully. But when Robson complains that she is pointing her daughter's mobile phone at the television rather than the remote, the natural demographic of the show is exposed.

While Linda Robson booms through the show like an estuary-twanged washerwoman, Keane protests like a Hyacinth Bucket with attitude, but it is Eclair's husky voice that is the dominant force and most often gets the last laugh. Much as I hate to break up a trinity, holy or unholy, Eclair's saucy suss was the show-stealer.

The 46-year-old comic's monologues gave the show its momentum, drawing the bigger laughs with her one-liners ("I can hardly resist the temptation to give a wedgie to girls flashing their thongs") even where her line was not the climax of the sequence. Not only that, she was the only one of the three who was ever likely to get away with wearing a pair of green tights.

There is little doubt that the majority of the material in this show, script-edited by Richard Herring, hits the mark. In the interval I hear the beginnings of two separate conversations that testify to this. One begins: "I phoned the council twice to complain today..." and the other: "My sister has complained at her supermarket so many times that I'm surprised she hasn't been banned."

The biddies of Bromley, it would appear, are sated.

Touring to 9 June (www.grumpyoldwomenlive.com)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in