ajhlovestheatre

ALLEGRA

by Peter Quilter

directed by Stephen Mear

Harold Pinter Theatre, London – until 8 August 2026

running time: 2 hours including interval 

https://www.allegraplay.com

Maureen Lipman is many things: a formidable artist equally at home on stage and screen, a witty, relatable writer, an outspoken commentator on international politics, a Dame, and a gifted director (her 2017 production of late husband Jack Rosenthal’s cabbie comedy The Knowledge was a treat). She’s a brilliant comedienne and, as seen in the 2023 revival of Rose, Martin Sherman’s monologue of Jewish resilience and survival, a fine actor of extraordinary potency and poignancy. What she doesn’t come across as though, at least on stage, is especially warm, and that’s a problem for Allegra, the song-studded comedy by Peter Quilter now playing a month-long West End season following a brief national tour. 

Lipman plays the title role, an extravagantly eccentric pensioner with a penchant for breaking into song at the drop of a hat, apparently unable, when off her meds (which she constantly is), to perceive the difference between real life and the elaborate song-and-dance numbers in her head. This gets Allegra in a lot of trouble with nearby businesses, where she’s seen as a bit of a menace, and with the local constabulary, much to the exasperation and worry of her slightly younger brother (a game John Middleton). Lipman brings beautiful comic timing and dominating presence to a role that requires those things but would also benefit from a kooky, off-the-wall fragility and sense of wonder. She’s too flinty and knowing, though genuinely moving later on when Allegra gives in to pressure, takes her pills and stops singing, becoming just a husk of the woman she was.

As theatrical premises go, the perception of fantasy versus reality, and the conflict between personal happiness and conforming to the norm, are both ripe with dramatic possibilities. Unfortunately Quilter’s flavourless writing, reminiscent of an undemanding 1980s TV sitcom, explores very few of them, preferring instead a flat, presentational style where the jokes only intermittently land. 

Allegra’s irrepressible joie de vivre in contrast to the humdrum lives around her, and the assumption that a person of advanced years should fit uncomplainingly into a well-behaved box while their imagination and exuberance ebbs away, makes an intriguing but unexplored jumping-off point for a play that promises but doesn’t deliver. Stephen Mear’s visually attractive staging puts La Lipman – resplendent in a pink-tinged fright wig from JJ Wigs and suitably outlandish outfits courtesy of designer Justin Williams – centre stage, but there’s nothing he or his leading lady can do to rescue the wan script.

The dialogue is punctuated by vintage easy listening songs, including a slightly awkward audience participation singalong, that register but never soar as Allegra disappears into her own special world. ‘Tiptoe Through The Tulips’ fares best because at least we get tulips bursting through bits of Williams’ kitchen set and an attempt at showbiz exuberance. ‘Singin’ In The Rain’ gets rainbow umbrellas and cute dance moves (Mear also choreographs, and he is authentically one of the UK’s best), but it’s never clear if the aim is nostalgia or irony.

There’s a lack of magic in the gulf between Allegra’s florid imagination and what we get to see: nothing is as funny, touching or transporting as it should be. Elizabeth Bower and Bailey Patrick work hard as, respectively, Allegra’s Czech carer-cum-housekeeper and an increasingly cheesed-off policeman, but the writing gives them insufficient to play with. With the exception of the title role, the characters are thinly drawn to the point of translucence.

Allegra, the character and the play, should touch the heart of, and connect with, everyone – after all, we all have elderly loved ones in our lives, or at least harbour hope to reach a proper old age – but almost everything falls flat. It’s a star vehicle where the star feels miscast.