[Jennifer Saunders gives] a lovely physical performance. But around her, the production never settles. Saunders is on form – but apart from her, blitheness is in short supply.
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Jennifer Saunders is a surprising beacon of subtlety in this brash reading of Noel Coward’s Forties comedy...But this amusing, awkward production undoubtedly belongs to Saunders.
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[Jennifer Saunders is] prone to scratching herself furiously and when she struggles with flatulence she could be a refugee from a Carry On film. Above all, her comic timing is impeccable.
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As the psychic Madame Arcati in this marvellous production, Saunders channels AbFab’s Edina – only with more intrepidity.
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Jennifer Saunders delights as a dotty medium...Noel Coward’s deathless comedy hits the West End in a deft, but dragging production by Richard Eyre.
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But in swapping tragedy for comedy, Eyre strains too much for comic eccentricity, and as a result, the comedy threatens to congeal instead of being liberated by it.
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[Jennifer Saunders] is a robust bustle of beige knitwear, physical comedy and conspicuous quirks. It’s an off-the-peg ‘Ab Fab’ sketch: funny but a little too familiar.
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Saunders gets her laughs [and] the rest of the cast get a zinger or two each. This play’s revival is, on balance, a good thing for everyone involved.
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