More men than usual came to see this show at the prospect of mature pulchritude in the buff.
The Women’s Institute who stripped for charity have passed into legend. I have spoken at many WIs but they have seldom got their kit off.
The play, presented by the Harleston Players, is an extended spoof WI sketch, all tastefully done. Even lying in the aisle with binoculars, you can only see so much. The climactic togs-shedding, with applause for the cleverness of each month’s shot, ends the first half. The play has little more to say after that.
But the characters, humour and pathos are expertly drawn by a cockle-warming cast, directed by Sara Curtis, who made sure we will never think of the WI in the same way again. BASIL ABBOTT