Anything you can do, I can do better

Fleet Street’s theatre critics are a notoriously precious bunch. So, the poor luvvies will be spluttering over their interval drinks in the theatre bar after AA Gill’s diatribe against them.

According to his chums, Gill fancies swapping his reviews of West End restaurants for the Sunday Times for West End theatres ‒ no extra travelling after all.

And judging by his latest cover story for the paper’s Culture section, those days might not be far off. Gill lambasts the current crop of theatre critics with a coruscating review of their own lacklustre performance.

“No aspect of the culture is as badly served by its critics as the theatre is,” writes Gill.

“Many of the national press reviewers who haunt the lobbies of the West End, picking up their complimentary programmes and free glasses of screwtop wine, are a moribund, joyless, detached bunch.”

The Daily Telegraph’s Charles Spencer, The Independent’s Paul Taylor and the Daily Mail’s Quentin Letts all come in for a pasting for their “thudding repetition” which results in the “uniform, dank sogginess” of their work.

It’s quite a job application from Gill.

But Axegrinder fears that he may have to watch future productions from a private box if he wants to leave the building alive.

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