The Real Inspector Hound / The Critic, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, July 2010

Both these entertaining plays end rather suddenly after a few bangs and plenty of laughs. With a poor cast they could easily fail, but in these performances the stylish overacting kept the audience in suspense and drew out the humour without ever overdoing it.

Moon and Birdfoot

In The Real Inspector Hound, Tom Stoppard uses his intellectual gymnastics to create a spoof of the murder mystery in an isolated house, temporarily cut off from the world by the rising tide. But it’s more than that — it’s also a parody of The Mousetrap, with the inspector arriving not on skis but wearing ‘two inflatable — and inflated — pontoons with flat bottoms about two feet across’. Stoppard used the title The Critics in an early draft of the play, and its connection with Sheridan’s Critic in this double bill is that both plays involve critics taking part in the action. In Hound the critics Moon and Birdboot are played with understated panache, and in true 1960s style, by Richard McCabe and Nicholas Le Prevost. They were both utterly convincing, the one as a second rank theatre critic, and the other as a womaniser who takes advantage of his alleged ability to influence careers.

Hound, The Company

The other actors were equally superb, with Una Stubbs as Mrs Drudge, and Sophie Bould and Hermione Gulliford as the attractive ladies of the house, Felicity and Cynthia. Joe Dixon played a creepily foppish Simon, Derek Griffiths a suitably single-minded Inspector Hound, and Sean Foley provided excellent spice as the irascibly assertive Major Magnus, as well as collaborating with Jonathan Church in directing both plays. The audience sat on all four sides of the stage, with the small critics’ section replaced after the interval by a curtained stage for Sheridan’s play within a play.

Puff, Sneer and Dangle

In The Critic we had many of the same actors, with Nicholas Le Prevost now playing Mr. Dangle, a rather boring and unctuously sincere theatre critic of the late eighteenth century. Una Stubbs was his wife, showing ennui and wit in equal measure, and Derek Griffiths was the supposedly more professional critic Mr. Sneer. Sean Foley reappeared in the delightfully camp role of Sir Fretful Plagiary, giving a marvellous solo performance, and Richard McCabe was superb as the playwright and impresario Puff whose play The Spanish Armada is given a rehearsal in front of the critics.

Mr. Puff's play

While the real Spanish Armada was of course in 1588, recent events in the summer of 1779, in which Britain found itself in a state of war with Spain, had inspired Mr. Puff to his creation, and this production of The Critic cleverly inserts some absolutely up-to-date remarks on politics during the preamble in Mr. Dangle’s drawing room. As to Mr. Puff’s play, which the actors had mercifully cut in places, the ham acting is very funny, yet the author of the text remains brilliantly in charge of his rehearsal, despite inconvenient questions and alterations. The entire ‘rehearsal’ cast worked wonderfully well together, with Joe Dixon delightful in overacting the part of Don Ferolo Whiskerandos. The final crash of part of the scenery was, at least to me, wholly unexpected and dramatic, and in case any audience member had got up to leave in proximity to the imminent event, an usher was ready to stop them. If the crash seemed dangerously real, it was, and along with other howlers it formed a glorious ending.

This wonderful double bill continues until 28^th August — for more details, click here. All photos by Manuel Harlan.

The Cherry Orchard, Old Vic, June 2009

This, the last of Chekhov’s plays, is being produced along with The Winter’s Tale, as part of The Bridge Project using a mix of British and American actors.

It was presented more as comedy than tragedy in Sam Mendes’ production, performed to a translation by Tom Stoppard. The comedy was effective in showing the head-in-the-sand attitude of a family who are more concerned with romance and betrothal than finding a way out of their financial difficulties. Indeed, Sinead Cusack came over well as the mother, Ranevskaya who is in denial of her impecuniosity, and unwilling to face the prospect of tearing down her beloved cherry orchard and using the land for summer cottages. Simon Russell Beale as the ex-serf Lopakhin did a splendid job of trying to impose some rational behaviour on these once-wealthy landowners, warning them they will lose the whole estate if they do nothing. As they remain paralysed in a state of denial he buys it himself, owning the place to which his father and grandfather were once indentured.

While I regard Ranevskaya and Lopakhin as the principal characters, the rest of the cast did very well, and this was a team performance without anyone dominating things. When Ranevskaya returns from Paris to her estate she brings her 17-year old daughter Anya, well portrayed by Morven Christie, and the girl’s German governess Charlotta, dramatically played by Selina Cadell, who did a wonderful job of the conjuring tricks in the party scene. Rebecca Hall as Ranevskaya’s adopted daughter Varya had excellent stage presence with her brooding angst, and yearning for Lopakhin. The large cast comprises some twenty-odd characters, so I shall only mention two or three more. Ethan Hawke was suitably irritating as the student and ex-tutor of Ranevskaya’s late son, Paul Jesson was good as the sentimentally silly brother of Ranevskaya, and Richard Easton did an excellent job as the old retainer who is left behind in the sealed-up house after the others have all left. As he slumps in a chair, falls off and lies on the ground we hear a sharp crack, signifying the beginning of the end of the cherry orchard as the first tree falls.

The set design by Anthony Ward was a raised platform with carpets but no other scenery, and the lighting by Paul Pyant worked well, as did the sound by Paul Arditti, with music by Mark Bennett. Costumes by Catherine Zuber were of the period, namely start of the twentieth century. All in all a simple but effective production, and a fine performance from the cast of British and American actors.

Arcadia, Duke of York’s Theatre, June 2009

This Tom Stoppard play cleverly juxtaposes the modern world with the early nineteenth century, and in particular modern literary scholarship and mathematics with the earlier emphasis on literary creativity, classical study and scientific enquiry. In the early period we have a very clever girl of 16 named Thomasina, played by Jessica Cave, and her tutor Septimus Hodge, wittily played by Dan Stevens, along with a poet, and others. These early nineteenth century characters are juxtaposed in the modern world by a dreadful literary academic named Bernard Nightingale, played by Neil Pearson, along with an author named Hannah, wittily played by Samantha Bond, and a clever but rather intense mathematician named Valentine, very ably portrayed by Ed Stoppard.

Hannah is doing a book about the history of the Derbyshire country estate where all the action takes place, and Bernard visits with questions about Byron staying there in the early nineteenth century, and some slightly daft and ultimately irrelevant ideas about was going on at the time. While Bernard and Hannah plumb the past, those in the past enquire about the future. Thomasina hits on the idea of the second law of thermodynamics to explain the arrow of time, whose direction is entirely absent from Newton’s laws of motion, which are the same going backwards or forwards. As she points out, you can stir jam into a rice pudding, but you can’t stir it out again, and the three laws of Thermodynamics have often been wittily stated as: you can’t win, you can’t break even, and you can’t get out of the game. The second law says that available energy gradually becomes unavailable, so that in the long run everything will be at ‘room temperature’ and the universe will die out. Thomasina also discusses mathematics with her tutor, and devises an iterated algorithm that Valentine, in the modern world with his Apple laptop, is able to use to create beautiful shapes of nature.

The ability to make this into theatre is Stoppard’s genius, and while the main passion is intellectual, he sprinkles sex into both periods. The women are keen for some fun, and in the early period a poet’s wife, whom we never see on stage, along with Lady Croom, elegantly played by Nancy Carroll, breathe sexual allure into the proceedings. In the modern world Hannah shows desire for the dreadful Bernard, and the young Chloë Coverly, charmingly played by Lucy Griffiths, shows a bright interest in things sexual as did her earlier incarnation as Thomasina, who starts the play off by asking her tutor what carnal embrace means. In the end she desires more than words from her tutor, but when she goes to bed with papers and a candle we realise this is where her room goes up in flames and her genius is lost forever.

This revival is by David Leveaux, with sets and lighting by Hildegard Bechtler and Paul Anderson, but on the Duke of York’s stage it is unfortunately more cramped than when I saw it at the National in 1993, and the impression of extensive gardens behind the house is lost. The acting was very good, though I would have preferred more charm from Jessica Cave as Thomasina, whose high-pitched voice resonated sharpness, while Neil Pearson could have made Bernard less obnoxious and more smugly clever, which may have kept things in better balance. But Samantha Bond, Ed Stoppard and Dan Stevens were a delight to watch.