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Evening Standard
Evening Standard
Lifestyle
Nick Curtis

Dear Octopus at the National Theatre review: incurably quaint and dated

Those seeking a gently witty, old-fashioned entertainment will be delighted by this stately revival of Dodie Smith’s portrait of a family from 1938. Four generations gather in a gaslit rural home to celebrate the golden wedding anniversary of formidable Dora (Lindsay Duncan) and solid, supportive Charles (Malcolm Sinclair) – leisurely, luxurious roles that fit these actors like chamois gloves.

Loss, age, and thwarted or budding romances surface through the Randolph clan’s default air of warm exasperation, but there’s not much plot. The tone and pace of the play are monotonous and Smith’s wit is feather-light rather than stiletto-sharp. Though Emily Burns’s production is impeccably cast and handsomely mounted it rarely provokes more than a a wry smile. Especially when a home that can accommodate ten adults and four children, plus a servant, nanny and a lady’s companion, is described as “ordinary”.

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