Dinner at Faulty Towers

Jen bought tickets to Dinner at the Faulty Towers.  Jules and Jerry joined us at the Amba Hotel at Charing Cross.

Out of the four of us I was the least familiar with the show Fawlty Towers.  My Dad was the only one in our family who watched British comedy.  He would have loved this night.

Jen and Jerry spent the ride to Charing Cross spouting out random quotes from Basil Fawlty.  One of them would start a sentence and the other would finish it off, often laughing at their hilarity right through the punchline, making the joke all but unintelligible.  I feared I was going to be on the outside looking in.  The one not in on the joke.

(I don't know why there are 'Fawlty Towers' and 'Faulty Towers'.  Must be a copyright thing.)

This is Basil Faulty.  He was brilliant.  As I said, I don't have much history with the show but I know John Cleese, and from the moment he acerbically ordered us to our dinner tables (he yelled at me for leaning on a light switch) I knew this guy nailed it.

Manuel the waiter.  His specialty was misinterpreting English mixed in with some well timed physical humour.  Again, brilliant.

Jerry's biting his tongue, wanting to beat Basil to the quote.

Manuel gags my Scottish dinner table mate.

I caught a selfie of Manuel about to do the same to me.

The third player in our show was Sybil Faulty.  Jerry said she was pitch perfect.

Basil sticks a fork in Manuel's bottom.

Basil gets nagged by Sybil.

Basil's face was worth watching, even when he in the background.

Jules ordered a vegetarian meal and was given a pepper by Manuel.

This couple made the mistake of telling Sybil they were celebrating the wife's 30th birthday.  Of course he was publicly mocked later in the show.

Basil attempts to drown Sybil out with napkins in his ears.

Basil under our chair looking for Manuel's rat.

At one point both Basil and Manuel were under our table.

I don't remember why Basil was wearing women's pants on his head.

Basil chasing Manuel.  I think less than half the show is scripted.  The rest is some great improv based upon the guests.

Here are a few of Basil's most famous rants, as chosen by The Telegraph.

“You snobs! You stupid, stuck-up, toffee-nosed, half-witted upper-class piles of pus!”

"A satisfied customer. We should have him stuffed."

Guest: "Is there anywhere they do French food?" 

Basil: "Yes, France, I believe. They seem to like it there. And the swim would certainly sharpen your appetite. You'd better hurry, the tide leaves in six minutes."

Guest: "Oh you're very cheerful this morning, Mr Fawlty." 

Basil: "Yes, well one of the guests has just died."

"Can't we get you on Mastermind, Sybil? Next contestant - Sybil Fawlty from Torquay. Special subject - the bleedin' obvious."

Our night at the dinner theatre ended early so we stopped to have a wee dram of whiskey at The French House in Soho.

In hindsight, we probably should have headed home before the pub closed, but we were having such a good night we broke our curfew.