It's all there, as if Sebastian Barry were checking off all that he'd gleaned from biographies. Dickens' cruelty to his wife: tick. Tension between Mrs D and her sister: tick. Dickens' heavy-handed paternity: tick. There's not a footnote unturned. Dickens' home for fallen women: tick. That's not to say that cobbling all this together makes a good play.
Andersen is the fly-on-the-wall whose poor command of English means that he fails to pick up on the friction. But why cast a black actor as Andersen? And then play him as a noble savage?
It was okay. I dozed during the first half. It was better than watching wall-to wall election coverage on television.
Sometimes that's all you can say ... it was okay.
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