Dinnerladies

Victoria Wood’s Dinnerladies may not strike you as a particularly niche product. But, just as the Rocky Horror Picture Show attracts fishnet-wearing cross-dressers, so too does Wood’s canteen-set show trail a doting audience - of the blue-rinsed kind. Dinnerladies is to comedy what tartan shopping bags are to fashion; just like the handy luggage-item, the mild sitcom without doubt serves its comedic purpose, and on many levels works quite well. But, despite a perfectly-timed cast and a charming plot, Dinnerladies just can’t transcend the indomitable force of time.

Based on the second series of the BBC sitcom, the stage adaptation unfurls the burgeoning romance between head dinner lady Bren (Victoria Wood’s character, here portrayed by Sue Devaney) and canteen manager Tony (Andrew Dunn reprising his role in the TV series). Accompanied by a hotch-potch crew of staff, the group trundle through canteen life, interrupted only by mouthy customers and, of course, Bren’s flaky drunk of a mother (Tamsin Heatley).

Quaint though it sounds, from the moment staff members Dolly and Jean puzzle over a magazine featuring 'unusual knobs' the double entendres come thick and fast (pardon the pun). Carrying more than a whiff of the Carry On genre, playful references to viagra and cystitis have the—largely female, largely over 50—audience in stitches, but for anyone who isn’t a fan of classically crude innuendo, the gags quickly start to wear a little thin.

Technically, Dinnerladies is almost faultless. Roles are handled adeptly, in particular by Roya Amiri as doltish Anita and Carrie Whitton as ballsy youth Twinkle. Heatley, meanwhile, thrives in the part of Bren’s delusional mother Petula, a role she inherits from Julie Walters. Wood’s ability as a playwright is underscored by a plot which succeeds in touching sensitively on issues of life in the Mancunian factory setting. 

Ultimately, however, whether you enjoy this inoffensive jaunt or not boils down to taste. There’s no denying that most of  the audience revels in Wood’s menopausal, oh-so-cheeky blast from the past. For a twenty-something spectator, however, leaving the theatre to the tune of Agadoo, Dinnerladies just feels a little too out of touch.