Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell

Jeffrey Bernard was once asked to write his autobiography. True to form, he put an ad in the Spectator asking if anyone could remember what he was doing between 1960 and 1974. Fortunately for him, his friend and cohort Keith Waterhouse remembered enough to pen this play on the life of the great Bohemian who frequented Soho back in the day. Peppered with anecdotes and characters from his life, the play is at once hilarious and poignant, harking back to a time that was stubbornly not PC. Often when he couldn’t submit his article before the deadline and no substitute was readily available, his long-suffering magazine would print the one-line apology, ‘Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell’.