Side-splitting wit, cleverly crafted silliness, vibrant characters and a glorious magic of accelerating mayhem ensure Michael Frayn’s comedy-gold farce Noises Off delivers the same joyous delight and hilarity today as it did back in 1982. And this cast delivers it all beautifully.
Frayn was inspired to write the piece after witnessing the real life, bonkers goings-on backstage during a performance of his play The Two Of Us with Lynn Redgrave and Richard Briers, which proved even more hilarious than their onstage antics.
In three acts Noises Off cleverly charts the progress and/or deterioration, onstage and backstage, of a fictional touring production of the farce Nothing On. As jaunty cello string strains play a la Fawlty Towers, the Nothing On curtain rises to reveal a bright, sunny, suburban home in “Good Life” style with posh furniture and all those elements essential to traditional British farce – French windows, stairs, banisters and endless, dastardly doors that are just waiting to create havoc. In acts one and three we witness the increasing chaos that befalls the cast onstage, act one opening to present the last, tattered rehearsal before the show opens and act three taking us on to the final, frayed, limping leg of the tour. In the middle, act two swings the set right round to the stark, wooden world backstage, where chaos reigns and actors’ tears and manic tantrums multiply as Nothing On plays out front – which is now behind – where the show must, at all costs, go on.
Sustained throughout, but never over the top, is an energy of endless comings and goings, frantic to-ings and fro-ings, slip-ups, mix-ups, cock-ups, lock-ups, ladies in underwear, men with trousers round ankles and, naturally, an infinite choreographed clatter-slam-bang of confusing, uncooperative doors. As dilemmas multiply, crises and tantrums escalate onstage and backstage with the cast rushing, chasing, racing, jumping about with tied shoelaces, limping, stumbling and tumbling around in impressive, rib-tickling flow. Of course, we can laugh at constant chaos in perpetual motion only if, beneath the surface, the cast is skilfully organising that chaos. Here we have some delightful comic timing of action and repartee and a portrayal of engaging characters, who, no matter how silly things get, remain believable and sympathetic, all bringing this farce to vibrant life.
Played admirably by Simon Shepherd is long-suffering, increasingly crumbling director Lloyd, initially directing from the auditorium as he tries to keep his troublesome actors and impossible props under control. But no one on earth could ever control infinite plates of slippery sardines, clattering doors galore, the fearful dangers of axe and cactus, and worst of all, the never-ending flaws, gripes, inadequacies and idiocies of every single actor as well as the fluctuating, escalating, explosive relationships between them – and him.
All diffidence, apologies, nose bleeds and faints is Simon Coates as sympathetic, warm, sorry Freddie while Lisa Ambalavanar sparkles bright and eager as young Brooke. The one who will try anything to rescue the play – in vain – is Belinda, a vivacious, ostentatious vision in vivid pink, played with sizzling excellence by Lucy Robinson.
Meanwhile, poor overwhelmed, overworked Tim Allgood comes to life courtesy of Daniel Rainford and Nikhita Lesler is the diligent, put-upon Poppy who’s eventually driven to tears. Mark Middleton’s slapstick falling-down-the-stairs-routine in slow motion goes down well in his role/roll of Garry the estate agent, a chap who travels from calm and genial to axe-wieldingly furious, while Liza Goddard is dotty Dotty, a char-lady in traditional turban and apron, bewildered, grumbling and increasingly ratty and impatient. Much appreciated, too, as half deaf, ever sozzled, booze-seeking burglar Selsdon is Olivier-winner Matthew Kelly, all clumsy, stumbling incompetence and cheery wheezing in woolly hat and pirate stripes.
With the disruptive ups and downs of romantic rivalries and couplings/uncouplings playing out between all these quirky characters even as they continue to perform their play no matter what, it all goes to show that if a job’s worth doing it’s worth making a brilliantly funny pig’s ear of. Lots of fun and lovely laughter from start to finish.
Eileen Caiger Gray
