The evening (or afternoon in this case) combined three separate farces, each written by John Maddison Morton and each separated by short, entertaining intermissions. Entertaining because, wonderfully, they had Daniel Cheyn as Master of Ceremonies wandering around the crowd, ukulele in hand, breaking down all the walls with his softly spoken Victorian wit. It was a great way to build the atmosphere and to bond the audience – especially when we were all invited to join in a round of Daisy Bell. Cleverly introducing each play with a song of his own devising inspired by the content, it all in all added a magically comfortable and friendly air to the evening.
The first of the three, Slasher & Crasher, was I think the funniest – focusing on two suitors attempts to prove their manly worth it kept ramping up the ridiculousness, with an almost Monty Python feel – it was silly and slapstick and clever. David Oakes as the “dupe” or “straight man” was charmingly clueless and I loved both the moment he switched and became part of the madness and his frequent addresses to the audience. In fact the latter was one of the real selling points for me, the farces frequently drew attention to the fact that they were theatre, I love it when plays stretch the barriers between audience and actors. I was also highly impressed by the swordfight at the climax of the play – which managed to be wonderfully exciting as given the cramped surroundings, it looked like the audience were in danger of being speared at any moment (plus how can anyone resist a fight where one of the combatants comes in wearing the others trousers as a cape).
Though I think Slasher & Crasher was the funniest, my actual favourite of the evening was A Most Unwarrantable Intrusion, a two hander between the esteemed Clive Francis and sublime Bennett (who had also turned a relatively minor role in the previous farce into a comic masterpiece merely with a wrinkle of his nose). As well as the excellent performances, what set this apart for me was the faintly sinister air about the whole play which managed to be both funny and genuinely disturbing. Added to which a partly scripted theatrically self-aware ending, where both the prompter was called upon and the ‘actors’ criticised the script; plus a genuinely unscripted showdown over a dropped prop (that only ended when Francis threatened to start eating the fish again) left me roaring with laughter.
The final of the three farces – Grimshaw, Bagshaw and Bradshaw – worked the least effectively for me, though possibly that was mostly in comparison to the excellence of the two that had preceded it. I also think though that of the “straight” characters in the three, Grimshaw was the least understandable, his freshly grown interest in Fanny didn’t seem deep enough investment for all the concessions he makes, plus I couldn’t quite understand what had changed when he started to play along with the name confusion. None of which was the fault of Stuart Fox who played it with a twinkly eyed charm and despite my reservations I still found plenty to laugh about.
A wonderful, wonderful afternoon full of such ridiculously joyful fun that my cheeks ached from laughing.
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