Jeffrey Bernard Is Unwell

Jeffrey Bernard was a legendary bon viveur in London, with a passion for drink, horses & women. He was a regular in the Coach and Horses pub in Soho, immortalised in satirical magazine Private Eye.

This play, written by a friend of his, Keith Waterhouse, imagines Bernard locked in said pub overnight: his reminiscences range from the poignant to the hilarious, and are illustrated by characters played by the supporting cast.

Nonetheless, this is essentially a one-man show, with O'Toole on stage throughout and on tremendous form. This captures the definitive performance of a hugely entertaining play.

I returned to Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell very recently, only having seen the TV version, but was lucky to secure the "better" (2h 3m) version somewhere else.

I agree the Soho of Jeffrey Bernard is probably gone but in any big city there is a Soho.

If you just look hard enough.

In the west end of Glasgow, particularly Byres Rd, this is filled with bohemians aplenty

A testimony to just how good this is: Amazon.UK is STILL selling this 2nd hand for £50!!! BTW if you want to watch an equally good performance of POT watch Dean Spanley or my talks with Dean Spanley.

Regards to all And when is O'Toole getting the bloody Oscar

Keith Waterhouse's tribute to his own very good friend is not a play that is to be attempted by the faint hearted. Its demands upon the main protagonist are severe. Peter O'Toole keeps on the right side of mawkishness as he recounts the memories of a vodka sodden journalist, Jeffrey Barnard. Jeffrey Barnard's binges would, upon occasion, lead to his missing the deadline for his weekly column in the political weekly 'The Spectator' when his Low Life column would be replaced with the terse euphemistic title of the play.

The play is really a consummately delivered monologue. It is a lament for a Soho that has now passed. All the bohemian characters have now been replaced by wannabes, striking poses rather than living lives. Jeffrey Barnard could easily be dismissed as a boring old conservative but this danger is easily averted by the thick vein of madcap humour. This play is hysterically funny as Jeff recounts his views on women, wives, ex- and present, and his passions for gambling, horses and drink and hostelries. A puritan would not enjoy this, but its portrait of an unrepentant roue is beautifully paced and it is not without its moments of genuine pathos. I do urge you to see it.

Jeffrey Bernard lived a remarkable boozy life full of highs, lows and downright bad behaviour, and it would have been all too easy to create a production lifting his own written accounts verbatim. However, Bernard's own columns were often bitter, maudlin affairs that would not have resulted in a compelling production. Keith Waterhouse on the other hand, did an amazing job of separating the wheat from the chaff from the Spectator 'Low Life' columns, and in doing so provided the script for the most entertaining 2 hours you could hope to observe. Peter O'Toole was perfect for the part and managed to blend humour, wit, anger, melancholy and pathos almost effortlessly.

What happens when you accidentally lock an alcoholic in your pub and in charge of an unguarded bottle of Vodka? Regret, happy memories and tales of cat racing.

Keith Waterhouse doesn't beat around the bush when he shows Bernhard as arrogant, unlikable, unlovable and very charming with it. You see this and make you're own mind up This shows that there was a side to London's Soho other than the porn industry and makes and viewer wish for an age they never experienced first hand.

I agree, with my fellow reviewer that the district is full of wanabies, but if you want a taste of that bygone age Bohemia it still exists in the Coach and Horses (where this story is set). Yes, as far as I know, Norman is still the landlord. But be prepared to pay for the most expensive pints in Soho......oh yes, sandwiches are still a pound