Theatre review: Here Comes J. Edgar!

With music by Peter Matz and the comedy pedigree of Harry Shearer and Tom Leopold on book and lyrics, Here Comes J Full Stop Edgar Exclamation Mark is a broadly comic attempt to satirise one of the most influential figures in shaping 20th century America: J. Edgar Hoover, director of the FBI for almost 60 years, but remembered as much for his fondness for wearing drag in his private life, as for the draconian policies he enforced in his public one. In an opening that fully embraces what a hokey cliché it is, Hoover (Bryan Batt) is visited on his deathbed by his younger self (Jess Pratley,) who'll take him through his life story in the form of a 1940s/'50s-style musical. As a child he's the editor of a school newspaper that publishes gossip about the staff and students, and it's an instinct that carries through to his adult life and the way he runs the country's most powerful law enforcement agency.

Theatre review: More Life

Billed as a sci-fi gothic horror, Lauren Mooney and James Yeatman's More Life is a riff on Frankenstein (something it acknowledges several times) set in 2075, when medical advances have allowed those who can afford them to slow down the ageing process by a couple of deacdes, but haven't quite eliminated human mortality altogether yet. But the next step towards that might just have been taken: Alison Halstead plays a synthetic human that doesn't need to eat, sleep or breathe. Vic (Marc Elliott) and his assistant Mike (Lewis Mackinnon) now need to find the right consciousness to animate it, out of many brains donated to their shadowy organisation over the years. Many can't handle the realisation that they've died and been brought back in a new body, but eventually the scientists find Bridget, a young woman who died in a car crash in 2026 (caused by one of the company's own prototype driverless cars.) A few adjustments to the code that stores her consciousness, and she's ready for a new life.

Theatre review: A Tupperware of Ashes

The Dorfman's about to go dark for a while for another refurb, but it bows out for now in style with a show reminiscent of The Father, both in subject matter and in being something I was very glad to catch, but wouldn't want to put myself through again in a hurry. In Tanika Gupta's A Tupperware of Ashes Meera Syal plays Queenie, a name whose significance is obscure to start with, but which becomes clearer as Gupta gives us a loose reimagining of King Lear, charting the tragic mental breakdown of an independent, successful British-Bengali woman. Queenie is a chef with her own, recently Michelin-starred restaurant, although some of the things we learn about her success early on in the play come into question soon after: Her behaviour has started to change quite a lot, and her doctor daughter Kamala's (Natalie Dew) worst suspicions are confirmed when she sends her off for tests.

Theatre review: See What I Wanna See

The plot of Michael John LaChiusa’s See What I Wanna See spans from mediaeval Japan to 21st century New York, which makes it sound like a David Mitchell novel (not that David Mitchell, the other one.) In fact the 2005 musical is based on three short stories by Ryunosuke Akutagawa, presented without an obvious connection, other than the general theme of different perspectives to the same events. The mediaeval Japanese story is “Kesa and Morito,” which kicks off each of the acts with the end of the affair between a married woman (Cassie Compton) and her lover (Mark Goldthorp.) We get a different viewpoint in each half, with an ambiguous ending that sees one or both of the lovers come to a sticky end. The vast majority of the show however takes place in New York, the first act’s “R Shomon” is a noir story set in 1951, when a gangster (Marc Elliott) confesses to raping a singer (Compton) and murdering her husband in Central Park.