Dear Lupin

A hoard of letters in a shoebox might not be the juiciest of heirlooms, but for self-confessed spiv Charlie Mortimer they have proved priceless. Out of this dusty bundle evolved 2012’s surprise bestseller, Dear Lupin… Letters To A Wayward Son – 24 years of correspondence that started in 1967 when Charlie was a schoolboy on the verge of expulsion from Eton, and lasted until 1991 when his father Roger, the racing correspondent, died.

Everyone in the charming, chaotic, upper-middle-class Mortimer household has a nickname. Charlie’s is the Lupin of the title – after Mr Pooter’s hopeless son in satirical classic The Diary Of A Nobody. His sisters, Louise (Lumpy Lou) and Jane (Cod-Cutlet), were similarly endowed, while their mother, Cynthia, is always referred to as Nidnod – for reasons that are never clear, but barely matter.

For anyone who has ever reread their own Basildon Bond past, all life is often there. The trick that Michael Simkins has so skilfully played is in bringing these flimsy two-dimensional objects alive. Lupin’s replies were not included in the book (they were lost), so he used simple footnotes to knit his father’s letters together and steer the narrative.

The Lupin we see on stage, therefore, was crafted and created purely for the play, based on truth but also fully dramatised so as to allow the characters to come alive and do role-play dressing up – it is a comedy after all.

In any other hands, we might have sat watching two men reading aloud, in what could have deteriorated into a Pete and Dud sketch; instead we are treated to the masterful casting of the 76-year-old veteran actor James Fox as Roger, opposite his son, the young-gun, 29-year-old Jack, as Lupin. Would the play have worked so well without their own familial dynamic? Who knows.

What we do know is that director Philip Franks delivers a glorious family portrait, mostly set in Roger’s study at their home in Berkshire, but allowing for imaginative leaps around in ensuing years, taking in everything from a hippy beach to a doctor’s surgery.

By Act Two we learn that Lupin has checked himself into a rehab clinic, but even then his father’s sense of humour doesn’t fail. On visiting his son, he says, ‘It seems very pleasant here, old boy, but what exactly are you here for?’ When Charlie confesses he has a bit of a drink problem, his father asks, ‘Any chance of getting your mother in?’ PC it isn’t, but pretty perfect it is.

Until 19 September at the Apollo Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue, London W1: 0844-482 9671, www.apollotheatrelondon.co.uk