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Dr. Strangelove has a blast in this thermonuclear madness, PATRICK MARMION writes
Comedian Steve Coogan makes a fine fist of channelling the maniacal ghost of the late Peter Sellers in Stanley Kubrick's satire of nuclear Armageddon, Dr. Strangelove.
Emily Burns directs a hearty yet moody production on Anna Reid's terrific set that transforms from a draughty warehouse office overlooking the port to a typical Scandinavian G Plan bar, where the brassy sailors are forced to spike their alcohol-free beer with paint stripper. The plot, such as it is, turns on sometime lovers Larry (wily Lloyd Owen) and Rachel (sassy Martina Laird), who worked together to win an earlier election in the States, each hired by opposing parties, finding themselves using the same language and techniques to target the 'laptop and latte' voters. Eleanor Tomlinson (best known as Mrs Poldark and making her theatre debut opposite Michael Ahomka-Lindsay) has a bloom and an obvious baby-bump distractingly at odds with her cocktail-fuelled, casually shagtastic lifestyle, but her brittle effulgence shows real star quality
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