It’s entertaining in an excruciating way. Things got off to a sticky start when the 1970s external wall got stuck and, instead of disappearing smoothly to reveal more of the star of the show, Beverly, dancing on the sofa, it swayed alluringly alongside her. We got brief glimpses of her through the window as they both moved in time to the music — for longer, I imagine, than Tamzin Outhwaite, who has taken on this iconic role, was expecting. Eventually, the stage manager appeared to much laughter, and the snagging was sorted. Outhwaite handled it all like a pro, and her star qualities extended beyond improvisation to the whole of her performance, which was brilliant, writes Katie Kelly.
Once the play proper got underway, the plot proved familiar — mostly from the televised version of this Mike Leigh classic, in which Alison Steadman originated the role of Beverly, the socially ambitious, maritally frustrated housewife, and set the bar for all who have followed.
The scene is a small suburban gathering: Beverly and her husband Laurence host new neighbours Tony and Angela, and old neighbour Sue, for what Beverly might call a soiree — extravagant drinking, balanced only by peanuts and the 1970s classic, pineapple and cheese nibbles.
The awkwardness of everyone except Beverly is almost physically painful from the first few minutes. This is a comedy of manners, specifically nouveau riche pretensions contrasted with old money, represented by Sue, who lives in one of the original houses. The physical comedy is superb throughout, the timing and choreography honed to perfection. But there’s as much darkness here as light. Beverly’s attempts at seducing Tony under the noses of his wife and her own husband are both entertaining and disturbing.
The other characters never really move into a third dimension — though that may be by design, given how completely Beverly dominates the room. Angela is rather a bland caricature, and Tony mostly stands still looking awkward, which he does well. Boundaryless Beverly is a monster of the modern age: she controls the show, never taking no for an answer, and on occasion physically manipulates the others — most notably when she takes her reluctant husband’s arms and uses him like a puppet to dance along to Demis Roussos. She has an agenda, though one that never quite becomes clear.
One of the stars of the show is her orange kaftan, which was so brilliant it almost had its own part. The set, too, is a wonderful bit of nostalgia for anyone who remembers the ’70s.
For all its strengths, this production lacked depth and warmth — the most heartfelt laughter of the night went to the stage manager in the first few minutes. It’s good value, entertaining fare — but unlike Beverly’s endless gin and tonics, it didn’t quite hit the spot.
Richmond Theatre until 25th July. Harold Pinter Theatre: Wed 12 Aug – Sat 19 Sep 2026
Booking and full details: https://www.atgtickets.com/shows/abigails-party/
