My Night with Reg, Donmar Warehouse - review

Kevin Elyot’s sad, funny play about friendship, longing and betrayal is given a triumphant revival by Robert Hastie
Henry Hitchings21 March 2015

Kevin Elyot's sad, funny play was hailed as a landmark when it premiered twenty years ago — a timely picture of the ravages of AIDS (though the disease is not mentioned by name). But now it seems above all a beautifully observant study of friendship, longing and betrayal.

The pivotal character is one we never see — Reg is an enigmatic figure who dies of an AIDS-related illness, leaving behind a cluster of distressed male friends. Over the course of three meetings between them we learn about their densely interwoven relationships, which are suffused with camaraderie yet also with deception and the nagging pain of concealment.

Timid, nerdy Guy (Jonathan Broadbent) is the good listener and enthusiastic cook whose kindness binds the group together. He has spent years nursing a crush on John — played by Julian Ovenden as a flashy chancer whose confidence never quite masks a sense of his life’s emptiness.

There's a tight bond between John and Reg’s former lover Daniel — who is lent a sumptuous campness by Geoffrey Streatfeild, at his joyous best when he dances and sings along to David Bowie’s ‘Starman’. Further complications stem from the presence of bickering couple Benny and Bernie — the convincingly bruising Matt Bardock and finicky Richard Cant — while Lewis Reeves impresses as a perky Brummie decorator whose charms don’t escape the attention of Guy and John.

Robert Hastie’s revival triumphs through a smartly judged mixture of exuberance and delicate understatement, highlighting the cool precision of Elyot’s writing — an assured command of structure and a gift for incisive comedy. It is a great shame that this fine playwright, always so eloquent about heartbreak, won’t get to see it, having died two months ago after a long period of ill health.

Until September 27 (0844 871 7624, donmarwarehouse.com)

Latest theatre reviews

1/50

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in