
Bruce was and is all too easily dismissed as a foul-mouthed junkie. Both of these things may be true, but he was so much more than that.

Curly bursts onto the scene with a vibrant rendition of Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’ and all my childhood memories flood in with the force of a cattle stampede.

A dinner like no other, this play is a feast of indigestible pseudo philosophy, sychophantic admiration, machiavellian plotting, towering hypocrisy and class deconstruction, served with a sweet overlay of some lusciously funny lines.

Great dialogue and prose mixed with a beautiful use of space and movement, these blend together harmoniously to achieve just the right balance.

The title made me a little wary. I should've taken heed. It's My Party (And I'll Die If I Want To) is, for the most part downright bloody silly.

Since in both philosophy and experience, the journey is, arguably, the most edifying part, Victoria Haralabidou’s debut play is, at once, mystifying and fascinating.

The high points are good enough and frequent enough to make it easy to gloss over the flat patches, though, and the show is overall very entertaining.