Review: Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell, The Coach and Horses
An unexpected all-nighter at the pub gives this infamous journalist the chance to reflect on his outrageous exploits.Summary
Rating
Good
The crux of the story is this: notorious columnist and even more notorious drunk Jeffrey Bernard has fallen asleep in the toilets of the Coach and Horses, one of his favourite Soho haunts. Waking up well past closing time, finding himself locked in and unable to get hold of sleeping landlord Norman, he regales the audience with biographical tidbits and anecdotes of his personal and professional life.
Staging a show in an untraditional venue is always hit or miss. Sure, it might be more immersive, but there are all sorts of headaches with sightlines and acoustics to deal with. This production manages the issue strikingly well, in spite of the numerous pillars and panels across the small pub, with Robert Bathhurst audible across the room and pacing around enough that all those in the audience can get a view of his lackadaisical, droll Bernard. Having the false Bernard treading the same steps of his real counterpart is engaging rather than gimmicky, and acts as a reminder that these ridiculous tales are true.
Bernard’s lifestyle feels a world away. It’s certainly harder to be drunk on the job now, that’s for sure, and his descriptions of Soho – a down-and-out, charming and grimy place – are strikingly different to the polished debauchery it now promises. It’s hard not to wonder what Bernard, who already laments the state of “dying Soho”, would make of the area and his beloved drinkeries now. He does not seem like the sort of man who would appreciate a gastropub.
Whether explaining the untapped potential of cat racing (a questionably ethical yet apparently invigorating sport) or sharing a voicemail from a bitter ex, Bernard is a tragi-comic figure. He’s pathetic in his inability to hold down much more than his booze yet self-aware enough to be funny about it, and has that signature talent of spinning anything into a brilliant story.
The near-constant rose-tinted glasses his raucous exploits and tumultuous marriages are seen through also limit depth somewhat. The odd moment of genuineness or reflection, then, jars slightly with the overall tone. As Bernard recollects a hospital visit, a reminder of the fragility of life, there’s space for the darker, sadder side of this character to be amped up – but we never see this. Perhaps this isn’t the right place to explore the damaging effects of vice on the psyche, but this tantalising hint makes its absence more noticeable.
At times, watching the play does feel like listening to the drunken ramblings of the guy mumbling away at the back of the pub. Bernard’s stories jump between one another with little to tie them together, which occasionally makes it difficult to really connect to what he’s saying. Sometimes it works; a brief musing on the benefits that would come with being a tortoise is excellent. Other times, the switches in topic are more mechanical. This may be a casualty of a shortened script, but Bathhurst keeps his connection with the audience regardless of any slightly clunky segues. The hour-long monologue never drops its pace, which is particularly commendable in such a small space and during a production that doesn’t shy away from audience participation.
By the end of the night, Bernard, several drinks in and after many phone calls, finally rouses Norman from his heavy slumber and nears escape as the sun rises. Maybe he’ll change his ways, he thinks – starting tomorrow.
Written by: Keith Waterhouse
Directed by: James Hillier
Sound design by: Max Pappenheim
Produced by: Defibrillator & Mitchell Reeve for M. Green Productions
Executive Producer: Robert Bathurst
Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell plays at the Coach and Horses until Monday 10th February. Further information and booking details can be found here.