It is difficult to find words to describe this unique piece - drivel, garbage, insulting rot, juvenile nonsense, are all in contention. The sixth-form inspired premise of the whole piece must have reduced its writers to rollicking heaps of tear-gushing side-splitting guffaws behind the bike shed, but to put this in front of an audience that shares even a single GCSE amongst its number is simply insulting. It is badly written, badly directed and utterly without artistic merit. The performances are flat where they are not hackneyed. Harry Enfield and Rick Mayall do what they have always done - nothing new here - but why did they agree to lend their talents to this drivel, garbage, insulting rot, juvenile nonsense? Avoid at all costs.
Review of Churchill: The Hollywood Years
