If I be served such another trick, I’ll have my brains ta’en out, and buttered, and give them to a dog for a new year’s gift.
The Merry Wives of Windsor: Act 3, scene 5
I went to see the RSC’s new seasonal production, Merry Wives - The Musical, last night. I went blind, not having seen any reviews, and was therefore able to form a perfectly unclouded judgement about the quality of the show.
Not even the combined powers of the dames Judy Dench and Simon Callow could raise it above the level of brutal mediocrity. Watching the pair of them was like seeing your physics and geography teachers mug, slap-thigh and hoot their way through an end-of-term variety entertainment. Simply cringe inducing.
My friend and I decided we hadn’t paid to be held hostage, so burst through a fire escape and onto the rainy streets of Stratford during the interval, and had an excellent night elsewhere with the hour and a half we stole back from this witless, charm-free lampoonery.