Currently sitting in the National Theatre waiting to see a play called Dear Octopus. This place must be PB's worst nightmare, the smell of liberalism is almost palpable. He might go into anaphylactic shock just by walking through the door.
Looks like it has favorable reviews:
‘This glorious revival is a visual and emotional feast.’
Guardian
★★★★
‘Poignant, exquisitely performed theatre.’
The Telegraph
★★★★★
‘Properly laugh-out-loud funny.’
London Theatre
★★★★
‘Burns’ delicately acted staging coaxes you to fall for this fretful, funny bunch.’
Financial Times
★★★★
‘A superb performance from Lindsay Duncan’
The Independent
★★★★
‘A touching celebration of enduring love, family and forgiveness.’
The Stage
★★★★
‘Moving. A family that is utterly convincing.’
WhatsOnStage
★★★★
‘The writing is a joy. A tonic for our turbulent times.’
The Observer
★★★★★
Simply Marvelous! To my delight, all the male players wore tight pants!
Peter Wyngarde, ellgab.com