For an industry so dependent on glitz and glamour, the West End has never quite mastered the celebrity debut. While big names might be a surefire way of shifting tickets, they have an unfortunate knack for ending up in mediocre plays – even when they’re as famous as Madonna.
The problem is partly structural. A-listers aren’t exactly cheap, and their schedules are notoriously tight. Faced with those constraints, theatreland has developed an unfortunate habit of putting box office names – John Malkovich, Damian Lewis, even Lindsay Lohan – into derivative three-handers by David Mamet. They might be easy to make, but they rarely deliver.
But are the days of celebrity mediocrity finally over? Last week came news of a seriously big theatre debut: Cheryl Tweedy (or as she prefers to be known these days, just ‘Cheryl’). In just a few weeks’ time, the former Girls Aloud star will play the leading role in one of the West End’s most recent hits: the crowd-pleasing creepfest 2:22 A Ghost Story.
Now entering its fourth West End run, 2:22 is that rarest of things – a genuinely successful drama that can pack out a house of prosecco-drinking shoppers and date-night couples rather than just clueless tourists. For a play without a single musical number – yes, Cheryl will be acting, not singing – that’s a serious achievement.
2:22 is that rarest of things – a genuinely successful drama that can pack out a house of prosecco-drinking shoppers and date-night couples rather than just clueless tourists
But it has another claim to fame. Since its debut last year, 2:22 has become the vehicle of choice for celebrities looking to tread the boards. Indeed its cast list to date resembles the wishlist for an ambitious reality television show – with Lily Allen, Giovanna Fletcher, Laura Whitmore, Doctor Who’s Mandip Gill, former Inbetweener James Buckley, Harry Potter’s Tom Felton and Busted’s Matt Willis.
What makes 2:22 such a big draw for celebs? While it might not be the answer you’ll hear in promotional interviews, it helps that the play isn’t exactly complicated. It’s essentially a supernatural twist on the old dinner party play. And as it’s set in an unnamed London neighbourhood, most of the cast hasn’t even had to modify their accents – eliminating one obvious pitfall.
It’s handy, too, that the play is a proven success. Written by comedian and podcaster Danny Robins, much of the dialogue is so well pitched to a mainstream Saturday night audience that you suspect it could be the work of a fiendishly clever AI bot from the future. What other ghost stories have a healthy dose of benign class comedy, for example?
None of that is to downplay Robins’s achievement. After all, just look at the West End’s dismal track record (Woman in Black being the exception) when it comes to anything resembling spooky. Five years ago, a stage version of The Exorcist became a notorious flop – persuading some critics, and likely producers, that theatre just can’t do horror.
As someone broadly sympathetic to that view, I didn’t expect 2:22 to change my mind – and I was partly right. As with The Exorcist, there were too many sudden jumpy moments for my liking, while attempts to do supernatural veered close to camp (admittedly not a cardinal sin in the West End). Yet the audience lapped it up – and cheered to the rafters afterwards.
At the time, I suspected a dose of post-lockdown euphoria. The last tranche of Covid restrictions (including mask rules) had been lifted just days beforehand, and I guessed many punters were just relishing the chance to have a proper night out. Yet the play’s rampant success since – including getting a Broadway transfer – suggests otherwise.
Just how long will 2:22 run? If it can keep bringing in the celebs (and there will be no shortage of applicants), it could have years in the tank. Decades perhaps. For when it comes to populist thrillers with rug-pull twists, the sky really is the limit. Just look at The Mousetrap, which went from defying the theatre snobs of its time to running for the entirety of the late Queen’s reign (give or take a few months at each end).
Who knows, perhaps we’ll one day see someone appear in 2:22 who happens to be the child of an original cast member. I really wouldn’t rule it out. Until then, the West End awaits the arrival of one of the true pop greats in Cheryl. One thing’s for sure: she has made a shrewd decision.
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