Last night, Stuart and I went to the Lyttleton Theatre on the glitzy South Bank to see Dodie Smith’s interwar family drama Dear Octopus.
Pushing three hours, the play sees Lindsey Duncan as matriarch Dora marshalling an incredibly large family around a posh house as she prepares for her golden wedding anniversary.
There is a huge cast of characters; husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, children, aunts, uncles, grandchild, great-grandchildren - you get the picture. And we get to meet all of them. Sadly.
When a family has so many branches - they are like octopuses. Hence their traditional after dinner speeches start with, “Dear Octopus…”
It’s a well produced piece, it’s well acted, but sadly rather boring and over-long. Nothing really happens.
We don’t really care if they know that he knows what they know that she knows what they know about her.
I heard snoring in Row E 💤
⭐️⭐️⭐️
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