Phoebe Waller-Bridge is the Girl with the Golden Pen. She tickled us with her sassy baddie, Villanelle, from ‘Killing Eve,’ and is currently co-writing the screenplay for the new Bond film, ‘No Time to Die.’ Last night, she thrilled the audience with the return of her one-woman show, Fleabag, at the Wyndham theatre, which she

Merci Amélie the Musical for bringing some much-needed sunshine to a bleak and midwintery London. The petite French girl that we fell in love with in the 2001 film is treading the boards at The Other Palace in a production that’s a billet doux to Paris and is as enchanting as it is heartwarming. The

Be still my beating heart! Shakespeare’s Rose Theatre, last seen in its playful glory in early seventeenth century Bankside, has come to life in a theatrical pop-up in the glorious gardens of Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire. And what a sight it is to behold. Complete with bustling Elizabethan village with medieval minstrels and ‘ye olde

Shirley Valentine probably needs no introduction. She’s 37 years old in the making, having begun her life as a play at the Everyman Theatre in Liverpool in 1986. She then hit stardom in that film with the enchanting Pauline Collins in 1989. Shirley Valentine’s latest incarnation, though, is with Sheridan Smith who is gloriously funny,

When I saw Tyrone Huntley in Leave to Remain at the Lyric Hammersmith earlier this year, I knew a star was in the ascendant, although the Evening Standard already knew that when they awarded him the ES Theatre Award. He’s now sprinted from stage into the director’s seat in a razzle-dazzle production of Ain’t Misbehavin’

David Pountney is a genius. The British-Polish director has transformed one of the repertoire’s most difficult and eccentric operas into a madcap, merry work of art, bursting with colour, humour and silliness. I was both intrigued by and slightly dreading The Excursions of Mr Brouček at Grange Park Opera. I ended up with quite a

If you could transplant the hearts face emoji onto humans, then the crowd at the Old Vic last night would have radiated red, pulsating love for Noel Coward’s Present Laughter. That’s because Andrew Scott was in the house, having recently traded in his cassocks from Fleabag, for a much more jazzy, art-deco inspired wardrobe in

Tom Hiddleston is clearly a really nice guy. He’s on-stage for a straight 90 minutes in Harold Pinter’s 1978 classic, Betrayal, and follows with autograph signing and selfie-taking with the hordes of fans who wait for him at the Harold Pinter Theatre stage door. So, it’s with a heavy heart than I tell you that

Please don’t send in the clowns, I whispered to myself as I took a seat at the Royal Festival Hall last night to watch Circus 1903. And here’s the great news: there wasn’t a single Krusty, Bozo or Grimaldi in this funny, sensual and gravity-defying showstopper. What you get instead is a big top serving

I knew it was going to be good, but I didn’t know it was going to be such a bumper of an evening. With echoes of Bette Davis in my head, I sat my bum in a Noel Coward Theatre seat to watch Lily James and Gillian Anderson, and one of my favourite actors, Sondheim