Just got back from seeing it tonight and I can honestly say that in 30 years of theatre-going I have never been so jealous of an onstage character than the moment when Ernest Hemingway places the shotgun in his mouth and prepares to blow his brains out.
In fact if they want the show to run they should start stunt casting and invite a whole load of minor celebrities to play the part of Hemingway and then get them to actually blow their brains out on stage; it's the only way this thing will sell (and in fairness to the paying public they should begin this gimmick by forcing the creative to team to play the role intially before they then move on to Kerry Katona - it's the only way I'll go back into the Comedy Theatre for the next four days or however long it plays)
I didn't get a programme so I'm not sure who is actually playing Hemmingway but I do know that somewhere Timothy West is missing a particularly bad understudy.
Helen Dallimore (who did nothing for me in Wicked) is as welcome as a dose of Tamiflu but I suppose the rest of the cast deserve a slight credit for remembering most of their lines and not bumping into most of the furniture.
I'm sure things will come back to haunt me but at present the only lowlights I can remember are a song that begins ' oh that pirate girl', Helen Dallimore singing a song of regret about how wonderful her life used to be (with the subtext; when I was at the Apollo Victoria) and that the title song Too Close to the SUN is inspired by a scene in the middle of the NIGHT.
Oh and in the first half there are only solo 'songs' and not one of them moves the 'story' forward - when it's just the script you think hurry up to a song, the moment a 'song' begins you begin to realise what Alzheimers must be like as another instantly forgettable lyrics jars with another instantly forgettable 'melody' and you start thinking lets hurry up back to the script (and then repeat as unneccessary)
But in Act Two (yes I stayed for the whole thing as the fully paid up member of Opus Dei that I am) the 'composer' discovers duets and you wish that he hadn't..
But as a major word of caution this is no Behind the Iron Mask (which was so hilariously bad I saw it twice). There's no lead charcater with muffled singing in a giant turd mask and no Shelia Ferguson 'acting' lines like 'Cake...., Don't talk to me about Cake! I haven't eaten for days' and nothing to match her infamous Gypsy Dance which had me actually crying with supressed laughter.
At Too Close to the Sun there's just unremitting dullness so if you can't make it to the Comedy Theatre or more likely it's actually closed before I finish this lengthy post then you could always head to a local lift which plays bad muzak and then lock yourself inside it and slowly write out the word DULL seventeen thousands time in grey before punching yourself unconcious - it would be much the same effect.
To paraphrase Charles Spencer - Too Close to the Sun; it's pure theatrical Nytol.
"I tend to think if god wanted us to believe in him, he'd exist" Linda Smith