We’ve all been in situations where we’ve said the wrong thing and wanted the ground to swallow us up. Dawn French has been there too. Frequently. The difference is that she has collated them to create the gloriously funny, spectacularly self-mocking must-see show Dawn French Is A Huge Twat.
The other difference is that French’s anecdotes feature a glittering supporting cast. Getting tongue-tied with Dustin Hoffman. Choosing the wrong fancy dress for Elton John’s party. Ian McKellen. Ken Branagh. Somehow she finds room for affectionate nods to her ex-husband Lenny Henry and her double act partner Jennifer – or “Fatty” as she calls her – Saunders.
This is not a show that particularly engages with cutting-edge issues. An early tale about winning a toy troll in a raffle which highlights French’s endearing gullibility makes no mention of the contemporary meaning of the word troll. And the closest the show comes to referencing French and Saunders as pioneering feminists is an account of her refusing to say a smutty line in a film.
Instead the reminiscences roll on, even if some of them don’t quite fit the title’s buttock-clenching remit. There’s the mishearing of a job offer from Ben Elton. Acting in Harry Potter alongside an amorous hippo. Trying to recreate the famous Vicar of Dibley falling into a puddle sketch and knackering her knee. In less skilful hands these autobiographical titbits could have been little more than dinner party chat, but the energetic 65-year-old, sporting her trademark bob albeit now in platinum after a brief quiff period, has the charm and clownish charisma to turn the slightest of incidents into 24-carat gossipy gold.
Various incidents centre on triumphing over failure. She thought she had lost a part in Death on the Nile due to her bad American accent. Instead she was merely told to play it as a Brit. And while she missed out on being cast in Mamma Mia! due to some screechy singing she reenacted Julie Walters’ role in a TV sketch, one of the highlights in the second half when screened behind her.
A question remains. Are we seeing the full French or just a sliver of a multi-faceted personality? You don’t get to be a comedy legend without serious amounts of drive. One story, about taking a curtain call after a Strindberg drama she wasn’t even in suggests that she is surely also the “needy show-off” she jokes about.
The monologue, directed by Michael Grandage but never overly theatrical, is packed with gaffes that will make you guffaw. Apart from a passing aside suggesting twatty reality is better than faked Instagram perfection there is no real message here. Not as deep as that Dibley-shaped puddle she plunged into, just lashings of laughs.
