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Precious is a new-style weepie but one that is much more bracing than depressing
Precious
Theatre
Ian McKellen is captivating throughout. He delights in the play’s gallows humour, yet is also maudlin and poignant
Waiting for Godot
Theatre
Slight quibbles notwithstanding, this will set the West End’s stock riding high
Enron
Utterly, utterly brilliant. You really are in for a treat
Though 'Trilogy' has won rave reviews, I personally found myself exasperated after about an hour
We went on a quiet sunday evening and the food was excellent, but the experience let down by the service and ambiance
London,
Evening Standard rating
Reader rating
The Backstreet Boys Wembley show was one-paced and vapid.
Having sold a whopping 73 million albums, there seemed little point in Backstreet Boys, the American boy band who make Westlife look like Babyshambles, reuniting. But having lain dormant since 2000's Black & Blue, they returned this year with a reasonable album, Never Gone, to find a diminished but still-viable market.
This, though, is an act in terminal, neglectful decline. Their choreography was sloppy, their harmonies under-utilised and their patter feeble: Nick Carter introducing Just Want You To Know with "does anyone here know what 'sphincter' means?" was neither big nor clever.
With the stirring exception of Incomplete, their music - from Shape Of My Heart (heart-shaped, I'd wager) to Don't Play With My Heart - was one-paced, vapid, anodyne gloop. This much the rather subdued audience knew and revelled in.
Less forgivable was the show's cheapness. Once Backstreet Boys used to fly above the crowd, now there were just two weedy explosions and chief vocalist Brian Littrell's grandfather-style pale blue jumper.
In fact, for all the strutting of Alexander "AJ" McLean (fresh from rehab and who briefly favoured us with a vest, tie and tam-o'-shanter ensemble), the quintet looked uninterested. Hence, perhaps, several long breaks for momentum-sapping video interludes.
The tubby, heavily perspiring Carter gave every indication of having spent his time since splitting with Paris Hilton and his drunk-driving arrest living on a diet comprised exclusively of pies, while Kevin Richardson, 33, and Howard Dorough contributed only lumpy dancing and the occasional harmony. Too lazy by half.
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