A Mad World My Masters shows Stratford’s Got Talent

Anyone who has dipped into the latest series of Britain’s Got Talent would question every aspect of the show’s title.

Featuring a succession of second-rate acts and won by a Hungarian dance troupe, its very purpose seemed to be to administer the last rites to this country’s variety tradition.

But the fact that the show remains so popular proves the nation has a hankering for good old-fashioned entertainment and is prepared to sit through any number of out of sync dancers and out of tune singers to get their fix.

I’m as guilty as the next man and have spent far too many nights in front of the TV when I should be down the road in Stratford experiencing true variety.

At first glance, a Jacobean classic doesn’t bear the hallmarks of a rollicking night out, but Thomas Middleton’s city comedy was given fresh relevance with a 1950s Soho setting giving the play an easy accessibility.

Featuring characters such as Mr Littledick, Master Whopping-Prospect and Penitent Brothel and enough knob jokes to make Jimmy Carr blush, the premise is an age-old one, of lust, both for money and sex.

Gender, wealth and social class are all explored along with the conventions surrounding marriage, virginity and morality as, high-class escorts and scoundrels rub shoulders with the gentry in a ruthless battle of wits.

Throw in men dressing up as women, dancing, double entendres, fancy dress and the fabulous voice of singer Linda John-Pierre and you have everything you could possibly want from a night of variety barring a performing dog.

Paul Okey