In the mid-1990s, Toby Young was a reasonably successful English journalist who inhabited all the right Soho clubs and all the right columns and whose spats with other media personalities were reported by journalists with nothing better to do. Toby decided to take Manhattan and set off for New York confident of following in the footsteps of Tina Brown, Anna Wintour and other media Brits who had taken a bite out of the Big Apple.
He gets a break and a job at Vanity Fair, but blows it and is sacked. Then something truly tragic happens: he can no longer get into the right parties and he can't get laid. Fortunately, he is saved by the love of a good woman (nice and English, of course, unlike all those nasty New York power women who won't go to bed with him) and a good man (his dad). At a New York party, Toby has his St Paul on the road to Damascus moment, as he realises that his elderly dad has had a worthwhile and meaningful life without ever once attending the Vanity Fair post-Oscars party.
Toby returns to England and turns what might be an amusing dinner party anecdote into an entire book. Actually not so much a book as the kind of extended sneer that now so often passes as good journalism. Then Tim Fountain comes along and turns it into a play. Why? The answer, I suppose, is why not? When there is so much lightweight dross already cluttering up our stages who is going to notice more fluff?
The venue is certainly inspired - media lads and ladettes will only have to stagger out of their clubs and a few doors up the road to do their navel-gazing.
Two things are fascinating. The first is how hard Young tries to kid us that he is not part of the celebrity and media culture he disses. But if the offer of the editorship of Vanity Fair came up today, you can bet Toby would be off like a shot. The second interesting thing is that the man is so totally shameless that he doesn't seem to mind in the least that, even when he is portrayed by actor Jack Davenport, he comes across as someone with the charm of a lizard and the IQ of a hamster. In fact, he reminded me of Neil Hamilton. Maybe Toby will end up in panto too.
· Until May 17. Box office: 020-7478 0100.
