Patrick Marber's version of Molière's story about a serial seducer of women transports the action to contemporary London. It is rude, it is crude, and it is very, very funny.
Tennant plays the recently renamed DJ as a magnificent, terminally bored, quasi-toff who beds, dumps and cruelly taunts his conquests. He is dangerous, sleazy, a hedonist, and he is not fussy about orifices either, “He'd do it with anything – a hole in the ozone layer.”
His chubby little factotum Stan (excellently played by Adrian Scarborough) struggles to keep up.
The humour ranges from hysterical slapstick to downright offensive. Tennant hits the heights as he tries to control the pleasure wrought under the blanket by expert fellatio from one woman, while his upper half engages in conversation with and oozes fake concern towards the wife of a male rival whom he has considerately put in a coma. The lows are plumbed when he taunts a homeless man by dangling a £1,000 watch if he agrees to blaspheme against Allah.
Is DJ one of J. M. Barrie's Lost Boys? Is he the Devil incarnate? Or just a sex addict?
Fans of Tennant will love this. The critics have been somewhat sniffy. Critics? Cretins!