Fatal Atrocity

D and I made our annual pilgrimage to the West End last week to catch the stage adaptation of iconic 80′s psycho drama Fatal Attraction. I mean, who doesn’t love that film, I mused whilst purchasing some not so budget-friendly Row P center stall seats. I figured even it’s rubbish, it’ll still be good. Ignoring the fabulously retro, gloriously antiquated, completely UN-PC sexual politics at play, it’s a cracking story and so one might think kinda difficult to butcher, right? Wrong. Very wrong. The opening scene flashes forward to our anti-hero, married cad and infidel Dan Gallagher shouting at the audience in very literal, cartoonish agony lamenting his misfortune at having landed a nutcase for a mistress. Woe is him. I wasn’t...