Last week we went to see Fleabag at the theatre. It wasn’t live, it was a recording from the West End, but it was broadcast live. We had seen the play before, at The Old Market in Brighton, but that production didn’t have Phoebe Waller-Bridge in it. Call me a philistine, but by then we had seen the TV version of the show and PWB was Fleabag, and Fleabag was PWB. The two were inextricably linked in my mind. The Brighton show was good, but it wasn’t properly Fleabag.
The show broadcast to the Connaught was recorded at the Soho Theatre, which looked to be quite small, but the angles were good and the show was really engaging. It was fantastic. There was a lot of laughter from the audience, but in my mind it wasn’t laugh out loud funny. There were funny bits, and I laughed, but mostly I read it as a touching portrayal of someone who was really on the edge. I loved it.
The show was put on by the National Theatre, and I think we’ll go to a few more of these productions. There is one coming up called Hansard, which I’m interested in, and TW wants to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream. So we might be going out more often – such fun!
TTFN.
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