Every so often we get the toe-curling opportunity to see good and sometimes famous actors struggling to marry their professional dignity to their contractual obligations, writes Patrick Marmion
The playwright Joan Greening tells his story with efficiency rather than sentiment, hurtling from scenes at the University of Cambridge to wartime turmoil
This self-identified “musical biography” doesn’t dig much further than the introduction paragraph of Turing’s Wikipedia entry. It’s contextually erratic and misses all the details that would make the audience fall in love with Alan rather than sit passively in front of him. The songs are unchallenging in both semantics and melody, while the narrative immediately becomes shallow and insubstantial. It’s a flawed, boring attempt at finding the next British theatre hit.