Sheridan Smith and Shirley Valentine: it’s a match made in theatre heaven. Willy Russell’s 1986 one-woman play is a beloved British classic; Smith is a national treasure. It sounds like it should work, and it really, really does. From her sly confidences right down to her comfy shoes, Smith conjures the kind of battled-hardened but optimistic woman who might live just down the street – a mother and a wife, who beneath the quips and anecdotes, is no longer quite sure who she is. At times, it’s as though she’s delivering a rapid-fire comedy set, at others, an elegy to missed potential. Smith looks so at home on stage – and with record-breaking advance box office takings and an extended 15-week run, I suspect she could take up permanent residence in the West End if she wanted to.
Russell’s warm, wistful play about a fortysomething Liverpudlian housewife who dreams of travelling the world is a proven crowd-pleaser. There was a hit 1989 film adaptation, and, as a character, Shirley is easy to love, meeting life’s disappointments with wise cracks and funny stories. But the part proves to be the perfect showcase for Smith’s talents, marrying her knack for nuance with her relish for a funny line, all threaded through with her innate likability. It’s an early contender for the best performance of the year.
