Plaza Suite is a sketch show by Neil Simon set in a luxury New York hotel in 1968. The play is rarely revived and it’s never been staged in the West End before. Simon’s idea (which Noël Coward accused him of stealing from his play Suite in Three Keys) is to place a trio of unrelated stories in the same hotel room. Simon struggles to find good endings for his set-ups and he keeps scribbling page after page of chit-chat in the hope of stumbling on a decent exit-line. He can’t do it. The dialogue sounds true to life but it’s also meandering, flat and witless – the sort of drivel you’d overhear in a vet’s waiting room. The hotel suite, designed by John Lee Beatty, is a sumptuous gold fantasy with flock wallpaper, sparkling chandeliers and a host of sidelights wearing little tasselled bonnets. In the 1960s, this gorgeous spread might have looked elegant and sophisticated but now it screams Trump Tower.

The first sketch is about Karen and Sam, a wealthy suburban couple, who bicker and fuss for ages as they settle into their room and prepare to celebrate an important wedding anniversary. Nothing is happening. Their aimless twaddle has no suspense or narrative direction, and the mood doesn’t change even when Sam’s hot young secretary shows up with news about Sam’s business. She orders him to abandon the dinner and come to the office to work late with her. Then she leaves. Sam tells Karen that he’s having an affair with the secretary and he begs Karen’s forgiveness. The play is already 45 minutes old and this is the first thing to happen on stage. Forty-five minutes! That’s nearly as long as it takes Keir Starmer to explain what a woman is.

In the closing moments, Karen makes a decision and the story ends on a poignant note of Chekhovian despair. But don’t slash your wrists just yet because the next sketch is coming up. This is shorter and much funnier. A movie producer, Jesse, wants to seduce his old high school flame, Muriel, who is unhappily married and wasting her life in the small town where they grew up. Muriel is desperate to conceal her desire for sexual excitement while sending out subtle hints of encouragement to Jesse. He plays it straight and tries to tempt her into the bedroom where the seduction is symbolically represented by a comic dance. A better writer might have inserted a gag or a narrative surprise here. The skit is good fun if you want to watch Matthew Broderick (Jesse) and Sarah Jessica Parker (Muriel) frolicking around like a pair of excitable teenagers.

The stars reappear in the final sketch about a nervous elderly couple whose daughter spoils her wedding day by locking herself in the bathroom just as the nuptials are about to begin. Plaza Suite will interest social historians more than fans of comedy who may find the female characters baffling or even ‘triggering’. All the women are portrayed as giggling airheads without careers, hobbies or opinions of their own, and who exist happily in a world dominated by men. You’ll also need to research American newspapers and currency values from 1968. Broderick and Jessica Parker are married in real life and it’s very obvious, without betraying any secrets, which of them is enjoying herself more.

Blood on Your Hands is a new play about the mental health of abattoir workers and it starts as a sugary romance between teenage sweethearts Dan and Eden. They spend cosy evenings in their love-nest enjoying takeaway burgers and watching TV. But the affair collapses for some obscure reason and Eden joins a group of militant vegetariennes who picket the abattoir and hurl insults at Dan as he arrives for work. Eden breaks into the compound and empties a bucket of blood over Dan’s head, which looks like an attempt to gain his attention and win him back. A promising start. But the love story peters out and the drama focuses on a weird friendship between Dan and a mopey old immigrant, Kosty, who has numerous children back home in Ukraine. Dan and Kosty chat about moisturising cream, cracked palms and drinking cheap beer in local pubs, but their conversation doesn’t feel like real male dialogue. Dan faces additional problems from a bullying boss and an old school friend who mocks his lack of financial success.

In the closing scene, we learn that Dan has been suffering from a mental disorder which he concealed so brilliantly that it didn’t feature in the dialogue at all. This confusing play presents itself as a tale about the meat industry but it really wants to examine male friendships and the futility of life as an unskilled worker in a dead-end town. A strange and painful experience.