Brimming with nostalgia, Only Fools and Horses – the Musical combines priceless classic comedy moments with fresh material in a fast-paced show, full of uplifting feel-cushty factor and liberally interspersed, for good or ill, with a lot of song and a bit of dance.
One of the most loved sit-coms of all time, Only Fools and Horses first aired in 1981 and bounced on through seven series and sixteen glorious Christmas spectaculars until 2003. John Sullivan’s scripts, witty, perceptive, fabulously crafted, consistently delivered riots of fun and belly-laugh hilarity, tempered with a magical reality of tenderness and tear-jerking pathos. Its quirky, loveable, charismatic characters are cherished far and wide to this day. As soon as the chirpy Hookey Street theme tune strikes up, thousands of hearts swell, transported in an instant back to the exuberant, working-class world of 1980s/90s Peckham, where the dodgy dealings and colourful capers of wheeler-dealer, wide boy, Delboy Trotter and his long-suffering brother, the renowned plonker, wally and dipstick, Rodney, sparkled like diamond geezers.
The script and many songs in the musical, first staged in 2019, come courtesy of Sullivan’s son, Jim, and Paul Whitehouse, the comedian from Wales who went to Enfield as a tot and carried on into the land of fame, fortune and TV fishing. The pair keep the stage busy with characters, patter and goings-on, largely gleaned from the TV shows, while a versatile, revolving set and slickly moved props switch us from The Nag’s Head to Sid’s chaotic cafe, to market barrows, dating agency, wedding-dress shop, restaurant, hospital, Waterloo Station, fertility clinic and, of course, the Trotter flat at Nelson Mandela House with its loud curtains and wallpaper, tasteless nick-nacks and shabby, comfy armchair, often filled with Granddad. (And yes, the battered, yellow three-wheeler gets a look in, too, as does a certain mind-the-gap bar counter). The sky above also keeps busy showing Peckham’s buildings, fireworks, clouds, honeymoon Italy, a Phantom chandelier and the odd swimming tadpole of a sperm.
With iconic characters being the most important element, costumes and mannerisms are spot-on: Del in suede and camel coats, red braces, medallion, flat cap and leopard-print briefs, doing his pigeon-head twitch and shrug, Rodney, gangly and awkward in jeans and anorak, flirty Marlene in sexy ensembles, and softly-clad Paul Whitehouse looking wonderfully like Lennard Pearce’s endearing Granddad and even more like Buster Merryfield’s white-bearded, duffle-coated Uncle Albert with his deluded ramblings about the war-wer. He conjures up their warmth nigh on perfectly and brings piles of smiles when he lists a dozen or so brand new Cockney rhyming-slang pairings for hemorrhoids.
Sam Lupton is Del. His gruff, staccato delivery of Delboy’s glittering array of complaints, catchphrases, puns and patter, Malaprop-Delapropisms and loving demonstrations of generosity and affection works well, while Tom Major has lanky Rodney’s lazy voice very nicely nailed. Naturally, though, none can replicate the charismatic sparkle of the TV duo. Strong performances with poignant moments come from Craig Berry as big Boycie, complete with infectious laugh, and Nicola Munns as Marlene (also playing a blander Cassandra, preparing to marry Rodney), while Lee VG is delightful as the slow-witted Trigger with his forever broom of many heads and many handles and a total inability to call Rodney Rodney rather than Dave.
It’s discombobulating, though, to have well-known characters suddenly launch into song, especially when some songs, like Lovely Day, are really puzzling insertions even if they do bring breathing spaces. But splendid accompaniment comes from five fine musicians and some of the songs are a joy. Just before she meets Del, Georgina Hagen, as warm, relatable Raquel, performs The Girl, a touching ballad, full of dreams and aspirations and not out of place. Gloria Acquaah Harrison (Mrs Obboke) is another fine singer whose songs enthrall, while great vivacity and sparkle come from Richard J Hunt’s engaging portrayal of a dating agent in Bit Of A Sort, and delicious, far more violent sparkle, loaded with heavy threat and menace, arrives in Being A Villain from Peter Watts as scary, dagger-eyed gangster Danny Driscoll and his torture-loving brother Tony (Darryl Paul). Superb and horrible.
Knees-up fun comes in song and dance renditions of the theme tune and in Granddad’s Where Have All the Cockneys Gone and Any Old Iron, but having Trig suddenly burst into a song about his granny’s crystal ball is far more surreal. The song, though, is a meaningful one, in which we learn how Granny Trig clearly foresaw all the globe-shattering events of the nineties and beyond, witnessing how over-the-top Peckham barrow-boy spiel gets replaced by over-the-top barrista patter in a gentrified Peckham. Mon Dew, Mange Tout, machiatto and Chateau neuf du Pape!
This show is a real plat du jour for Trotter fans. Plat du jour, Rodney, plat du jour.
Eileen Caiger Gray
