Just taking a seat amid the noisily schmoozing rows already felt like a win at the gala-fundraiser for the Community Security Trust (CST), hosted at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, courtesy of Sir Leonard Blavatnik and Danny Cohen of Access Entertainment.
Defiant Jewish pride and the counterweight of a healthy line in self-deprecation were the common denominators for the five performers. But this was a line-up that switched from shamelessly revelling in stereotypes to breakneck unpredictable surprises.
%20Blake%20Ezra%20Photography.JPG?w=732&q=0.6)
Philip Simon (Photo: Blake Ezra)(C) Blake Ezra Photography 2025 Not to be reproduced without written permission.
Hosting the evening, Simon immediately took charge of the audience, all the way up to those sat in the “hashems” as he dubbed that uppermost tier normally known in theatreland as “the gods”.
First on was Sara Barron, an uncompromising American who takes no prisoners with her utterly unexpurgated take on relationships. Her advice for long-married husbands hoping to have sex with their wives? Think GPs appointments on the NHS: same day is unlikely and if you really can’t wait, go private…
%20Blake%20Ezra%20Photography.JPG?w=732&q=0.6)
Sara Barron (Photo: Blake Ezra)(C) Blake Ezra Photography 2025 Not to be reproduced without written permission.
After Barron had turned the air blue – and left us with a closing line that could put you off Weetabix for life - on came Bennett Arron, a Jew from the Welsh valleys with a deliciously precise brand of dry humour who refused to utter anything more explicit than ‘tearaway’. Was a young Anthony Hopkins really once his family’s Shabbos goy? We may never know.
%20Blake%20Ezra%20Photography.JPG?w=732&q=0.6)
Bennett Arron (Photo: Blake Ezra )(C) Blake Ezra Photography 2025 Not to be reproduced without written permission.
Before the interval, Olivia Lee utterly eviscerated any preconceptions about Jewish mothers - fearlessly saying the unsayable – although, reassuringly, she did take pains to check we had all eaten.
%20Blake%20Ezra%20Photography.JPG?w=732&q=0.6)
Olivia Lee (Photo: Blake Ezra)(C) Blake Ezra Photography 2025 Not to be reproduced without written permission.
Simon bounded back on to give us the lowdown on Jewish speed dating (“Pay £25 to be dumped by 30 women in one night”) and usher on his fellow Edinburgh Fringe survivor.
Rachel Creeger is a frumkeit force of nature and there was no resisting her demands as she enlisted the services of the entire audience. At this point, we had to consider perhaps we hadn’t truly lived before we provided mass backing vocals for the delightful ditty “Where have all the foreskins gone?” sung to the tune of Wham’s “Freedom”. Joo, joo, joo, joo.
%20Blake%20Ezra%20Photography.JPG?w=732&q=0.6)
Rachel Creeger (Photo: Blake Ezra)(C) Blake Ezra Photography 2025 Not to be reproduced without written permission.
Closing the show was Simon Brodkin, the grown-up boy from Hampstead Garden Suburb, who, with bullet-proof confidence, teeters just on the right side of outrage.
He left us with questions to ponder. Why doesn’t every place of worship have an away end for other faiths? And how can the Middle East be solved when Barnet council can’t even clear away a fly-tipped sofabed?
Rachel Creeger and Philip Simon (Photo: Blake Ezra)[Missing Credit]
This had been an evening of pure, unalloyed happiness on tap. Rachel, Philip: victory is yours. This was your night. And ours too.
Fringe, schminge.
