Garrick theatre, London
Panto innuendo, outrageous caricatures and death by crispy pancake haunt a riotous Christmas whodunnit
A cast of drag kings and queens have been summoned to a West End stage to perform a whodunnit. Will anyone get out alive? For the first 10 minutes, I wasn’t sure. The parody felt broad, the jokes broader still. “Lord von Fistenberg treated me to a big shiny pearl necklace!”: it’s like Mrs Brown’s Boys with more face paint. But there’s no resisting the exuberance of Death Drop. Soon, as its cast of pop starlets, tweedy squires and tabloid hacks assemble, and the phone lines are cut, and the roads blocked, this “Dragatha Christie” mystery exerts a grip – of the comedic, if not the suspense, variety.