
Do you remember your first theatre trip? I do. A few weeks after the festivities I went with my mother to see a staging of The Wind in the Willows as part of my Christmas present. The details of the show are hazy, but decades later I can remember the tingle of excitement I felt, the warm glow that it created. Even then, aged six or so, I knew that I wanted to see more theatre.
So, what better gift to give at this time of year than the gift of theatre? Not a thing, but an experience. An experience which can leave an enduring mark. So, here’s the definitive guide to the shows you should book for the people you love or love to hate.
Alan Ayckbourn’s Woman in Mind at the Duke of York’s.
Michael Longhurst’s revival of Alan Ayckbourn’s 1985 play is about Susan, a genuinely desperate housewife who is losing her mind.
Susan hallucinates a loving husband, a caring daughter, a supportive brother and a lovely home, but she’s in a loveless union with Gerald, a smug vicar, and her only son doesn’t talk to her. The gap between fantasy and reality provides both comedy and heartbreak.
It’s got Sheridan Smith in it. It’s not just mums who love Sheridan Smith but the entire nation. She is a damn fine comic actor.
Mum might just reconsider her whole life. Even consult a divorce lawyer. Few write better than Ayckbourn about the bitter loneliness of marriage and family life that leaves you feeling alone even when you are in a crowd.
Arcadia at the Old Vic. Tom Stoppard’s deeply moving, witty play full of love and loss. This is Stoppard at his most heartfelt.
The Spy Who Came in From the Cold at @sohoplace.
David Eldridge’s elegantly pared-back adaptation of John Le Carre’s Cold War novel, which Graham Greene described as “the best spy story ever written”. This is intelligently done stuff full of atmosphere that tells of Alec Leamas, a world-weary spy who has lost all his agents and just wants to retire but who is persuaded (ruthlessly persuaded) by MI6 to “stay out in the cold a little longer” by going to East Berlin for one last mission.
Because Dad loves Slow Horses on TV and sometimes hints darkly about how he was once tapped on the shoulder when he was a student. Though maybe only in his dreams.
He’ll make you rewatch all 10 series of Spooks.
Arthur Miller’s meaty All My Sons at Wyndhams with Breaking Bad’s Bryan Cranston, Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Paapa Essiedu and Hayley Squires. Ivo van Hove’s revival is brutally forensic.
Little Bulb’s The Nutcracker at St Martins (daytime shows)
The classic story of rodent wars and sugar plums reimagined without the ballet and brought to you by Little Bulb, those miraculous musical theatre geniuses who won an Olivier for their family show, Wolf Witch Giant Fairy in the Linbury Studio at the Royal Opera House. Featuring a band of mice, lots of cardboard, plenty of reimagined Christmas hits and the company’s irreverent humour, this is a clever and emotionally deft examination of sibling rivalry and lots of cheese.
It’s such fun; it only lasts an hour (good for short attention spans), and it is full of such invention that the kids will be repurposing the leftover Xmas cardboard. They will stop squabbling for the duration of the show, and the effect may last longer.
They will demand pet mice for their birthdays.
Dog Man: The Musical at the Southbank next summer because all seven-year-olds find Dav Pilkey’s best-selling books hilarious. Mysterious but true.
Matilda The Musical, playing at the Cambridge Theatre.
Matilda The Musical at Cambridge Theatre.
Tim Minchin and Dennis Kelly’s fab, witty musical, which is actually better than the Roald Dahl story it is based upon. Matilda’s life is awful. Her parents are unspeakable, and her head teacher, Miss Trunchbull, is monstrous, but Matilda takes control of her life. As Tim Minchin puts it so beautifully in his lyrics, “Just because I find myself in this story doesn’t mean that everything is written for me.”
Matilda defies the idea that life is fixed and changes the ending to her story from tragedy to happy ever after. It's a lesson in not letting other people write our stories. It will inspire her to be more
She’ll want to sign up for MENSA.
Wicked at the Apollo Victoria because she knows The Wizard of Oz, and she always likes to hear both sides of the story.
My Neighbour Totoro at the Gillian Lynne.
Inspired by the 1988 Studio Ghibli animation about two little girls who move to the countryside to be close to their sick mother and who are befriended by nature, Phelim McDermott’s magical staging is a constant delight for adults and children alike.
Stuffed full of puppetry, superb design and a genuine sense of wonder, this is a show which is hugely imaginative and yet always leaves room for the audience’s own imaginations.
He will be agitating for a family holiday to Japan, which will crush the family finances.
Back to the Future: The Musical at the Adelphi. No, it’s not Japanese, but time is running out to see what they do with the car.
Six at the Vaudeville.
Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss’ small-scale mega hit. Henry VIII’s wives sing their stories and demonstrate that they are queens in more ways, and not just because they married old Henry. It’s a show that takes a pop at history with real vim. It’s witty too. When Jane Seymour asks what hurts more than a broken head, Anne Boleyn shoots back: “a severed head.”
It’s sassy, it’s silly, but it is also very serious about the points it makes about women, survival and narratives of victimhood.
1536 at the Ambassadors from May
Ava Pickett’s entertaining, gossipy play about misogyny and male power featuring three Essex women, friends since childhood, impacted by the accusations of adultery against the soon-to-be-beheaded Anne Boleyn.
Operation Mincemeat at the Fortune Theatre. Photo by Matt Crockett.
Operation Mincemeat at the Fortune Theatre.
Split Lip’s clever comic confection is a wonderfully inventive and very silly affair inspired by a top-secret WWII operation to trick Hitler into believing that British troops were going to invade Sardinia. It may be consummately silly, but there is wit here too, a beady-eyed look at the British ruling classes and some neat observations about how women were treated and how the war provided career opportunities for some. Provided they stood firm and refused to make the tea and hand round the biscuits.
Because he was born after WWII was over but often behaves as if he single-handedly won the war against Hitler and is upholding wartime values.
He will insist on cooking you all his gran’s recipe for Woolton pie made from root veg, oatmeal, pastry and mashed potato.
The Mousetrap at St Martins. Because he saw it in 1982 but won’t admit that he’s forgotten who dunnit.
Agatha Christie’s Witness for the Prosecution at County Hall.
Lucy Bailey’s clever staging of Agatha Christie’s courtroom drama is elevated further because of its setting in the atmospheric wood-panelled former debating chamber at County Hall. The setting is worth the price of admission alone.
Because Great Aunt Cecily loves courtroom dramas. It’s a story that keeps you on the edge of your seat, but Christie also has an acute grasp of how human beings behave, which makes this period piece feel fresh and insightful. Witness is never cosy.
She will sign up for a law degree and will no longer have time to babysit.
Inter Alia, with Rosamund Pike as a high court judge that transfers from the NT to Wyndham's Theatre next year.
A Christmas Carol at the Old Vic.
A Christmas Carol at the Old Vic.
Jack Thorne and Matthew Warchus’ wonderful, richly rewarding staging of Dickens’ story has become an annual Christmas fixture at the Old Vic and this year stars Paul Hilton as Scrooge. a story about a lonely man, cut off from humanity and his own feelings. It is full of delightful theatrical sleights of hand.
Uncle won’t see a therapist but perhaps may recognise this Scrooge who is a hurt and frightened child emotionally deformed by his childhood experiences and his debt-ridden father’s attitudes towards money and him.
Could be that, unlike Scrooge, your Uncle Bert is genuinely unredeemable?
A Christmas Carol—A Ghost Story at Alexandra Palace. Mark Gatiss’ version returns in all its ghostly splendour, full of puppetry, shadows, creepy lighting and clever effects. Maybe it will scare Uncle Bert into redemption?