Calendar Girls (not the strip club)

 "No front bottoms!" "Flesh sells!" "Can anyone see my nipples?"

These may be (in)famous lines from one of the West End's most popular plays, currently on stage at The Court Theatre (and until April 28).

Surely everyone, by now, knows the story? Conservative (ostensibly) Yorkshire Women's Institute ladies turn Calendar Girls for the good cause of raising money for Cancer research and, perhaps, the naughtier cause of spicing up their lives? You've seen the movie.

Having lost her husband to the dreaded disease, Annie's (Annie Whittle) and BFF Chris' (Jude Gibson) motivations are clear. The others', a cross section of femininity from elegantly ancient Jessie (Janice Gray) through anxiously demure Ruth (Avril Thresh) and confident page-three-lookalike Celia (Ali Harper), to the belligerently effervescent Cora (Juliet Reynolds-Midgley who is *whispers* my favourite of the sextet!) motivations are not so obvious, except for the want of supporting their friend.

What ensues is titillating mirth at its best.
The supporting cast comes and goes, tut-tutting (Marie, Amanda Tollemache) and sniggering supportively (John, Michael Keir Morrissey and Rod, Geoffrey Heath). Carl Dixon plays two roles, timid photographer and swanky TV director; Lyndee-Jane Ruthorford plays three! Boring Brenda, some other woman (rather unmemorable) and Lady Cavendish - as posh and overstated as it sounds.

From opening scene there is an elephant on David Thornley's minimalist but cleverly functional set. The audience knows that at some point the ladies are going to get naked. There is a sign at the entrance to the theatre, something along the lines that the show contains strobe lighting and nudity. Strobe lighting is straight-forward; the nudity around which the show is built was, in my mind, going to be a little more tricky. I couldn't imagine them all just getting their kit off willy nilly and prancing around the stage Hair-style. But neither could I imagine how they would do it tastefully without looking contrived and cheesy. In the end it was a little bit of each.

There are several subplots that enhance the Calendar project, and perhaps even overshadow it. Annie and Chris' latterly strained friendship, and their heartfelt reconciliation; Ruth's search for a backbone; Marie's over-bearing neediness; Jessie's full-frontal attack on getting old; and the well placed moments of grief and solidarity that constantly motivate the players.

It's really a story about friendships. There are some great interactions, if at times some seem a little forced. There are some wonderful lines. There are lots of LOLs. And there are some beautiful, tender moments. I love how (Annie's husband) John's death is played out.

The play closes with a fitting tribute to John as the ladies dance Tai Chi among the sunflowers that have grown up (seemingly) in his honour. But these girls are far too common for the ethereal requirements of Tai Chi. Chris sums it up. "Sod it, girls. Let's go get some chips."