I love it when I disagree with the critics. No, really I do. I’m fascinated that we can all have such widely variant opinions on the same thing – and I’m very happy for mine to be challenged. While for me, Photograph 51 never really developed into compelling drama, most overnight critics have awarded it four stars (well, apart from The Hollywood Reporter, whose judgment was more in line with mine – but they don’t use star ratings).
One thing that we all couldn’t resist, and almost every review opens with: the marked difference between Nicole Kidman‘s new cerebral stage vehicle and her last, sexually charged London stage appearance in David Hare’s The Blue Room at the Donmar Warehouse 17 years ago, which was famously dubbed “pure theatrical Viagra” by now-retired Daily Telegraph critic Charles Spencer.
Meanwhile, as with any celebrity West End appearance, we have coverage of Kidman being ‘mobbed’ by fans at the stage door, speculation about her relationships (particularly with her singer husband Keith Urban and whether they may or may not be having another baby) and rehashing of her Hollywood past (Tom Cruise). There are also some interesting features and opinions on the real woman who Kidman plays, the late DNA scientist Rosalind Franklin. Was the robbed of the Nobel Prize?