Lust, lies, snobbery, booze, panic, humiliation: it's that Joseph Connolly time again, and here the great rancid farceur of British fiction excels himself. On the glitzy liner Transylvania, bound for New York, a classic Connolly cast of leches, sluts, prats and poseurs screw and screw up in every way. His demented monologues read like Wodehouse re-written by Joyce, and the floating asylum makes a fine set for high-precision farce. This titanically vicious comedy will put you off that luxury cruise for life.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Bookmark popover
Removed from bookmarks