THE LAST TANGO at the Bristol Hippodrome

Outside Primark two friends meet.

Kelly: ‘Ere, Joyce, what you doin’ tonight?

Joyce: ‘Allo Kelly, love. I dunno, why?

Kelly: I saw that Last Tango last night at the Hippodrome.

Joyce: What’s that then?

Kelly: It’s them dancers off the telly. Them Strictly dancers.

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FLARE PATH at the Oxford Playhouse

Terrence Rattigan’s 1940s play Flare Path is a love story set against the backdrop of a town near an RAF airbase during the Second World War. Actress Patricia Warren is married to a dashing and confident young bomber pilot, Teddy Graham, but is still in love with an old flame, the famous actor Peter Kyle, with whom she has rekindled an affair after bumping into him some time into her marriage . . . Light and sound effects are put to extremely effective use to convey the movements of aircraft to and from the nearby airfield . . .

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TRANSPORTS at the Ustinov Studio, Bath

Amidst all the national hand-wringing over the fate of those forlorn, native North Africans and Middle-Easterners fleeing the unspeakable horrors perpetrated by bloody tyrants and religious fanatics, it is far too easy to overlook the individual tragedies and lifelong psychological scarring accompanying such events, that in truth, only a comfortable armchair can ignore.

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ALIVE AND BREL at the Everyman Studio, Cheltenham

The French are useless at rock ’n’ roll. They have the look and they have the style but they don’t have the balls. What screws them is their obsession with words, with lyrics; they must say something. Do Wah Diddy and Tutti Fruiti just won’t cut it for them. Consequently the French miss out on having any big worldwide rock or pop stars – Johnny Hallyday and Eddy Mitchell notwithstanding.

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SKIN DEEP at the Wardrobe Theatre, Bristol.

Another full house at the Wardrobe sees Exeter based, Substance and Shadow Theatre, bring a follow up to their previous punk era offering, ‘Duplicity’. On this outing they turn their gaze on the 80’s skinheads. The premise of the show (no writer is credited so presumably devised) is the unremarkable one that you can’t judge a book by its cover. The ‘books’ in this case are a group of Devon based skinheads . . . Judged on previous form there is more to come from this production . . .

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A GIRL IS A HALF FORMED THING at the Tobacco Factory, Bristol

Aoife Duffin’s portrayal of the girl has been described as ‘career-defining’, and it is certainly hard to imagine how anyone could do it better. . . Duffin swiftly changes from one character to another with protean skill; one moment she is a threatening playground bully, the next the lascivious uncle, a snobbish aunt or a condemnatory grandfather. . . An astonishingly brave performance, and one not to be missed.

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