THE LADYKILLERS

THE LADYKILLERS

Queen's Theatre, Hornchurch

03.10.2017

for The Reviews Hub

Forget Alec Guinness. Forget Tom Hanks. This is an ingenious stage version of William Rose's classic Ealing comedy, penned by Graham (Father Ted) Linehan and first seen in 2011.

Despite its cinematic origins, it is at heart a good old-fashioned farce, lacking only the manic inevitability of the best of that inter-war genre.

Five career criminals take a room in a house near to King's Cross station – very handy for the “stick-up job” they're planning.

Their landlady – serial complainant and waster of police time – is fooled by their unusual “front”, a classical string quartet, but sees through their disguise when the cello case disgorges its cargo of crisp white fivers.

Peter Rowe, artistic director at the New Wolsey, Ipswich, where this revival originated, has produced a slick, well-paced show, greatly assisted by Foxton's impressive set. The house opens like a book to reveal a richly detailed interior, and the whole thing revolves – powered by stage-hands in time-honoured fashion - so that we can see the roof-tops, and the quaint animated board depicting the heist itself. The scene changes are covered by gothic organ music and the play of steam and signals to evoke the railway beyond. Composer and Sound Designer Rebecca Applin provides some very authentic-sounding incidental music, setting the mood and the period to perfection in the wordless prologue.

Rowe's cast is a little uneven. As the widowed Mrs Wilberforce, Ann Penfold gives a lovely little old lady, primly comic. Masterminding his quartet of criminals, and conducting their avant-garde performance, is Steven Elliot's plummy Professor Marcus, his trailing college scarf an amusing running gag; Graham Seed makes the most of con-man Major Courtney, battle-fatigued war hero and closet cross-dresser. Anthony Dunn never really gets the measure of violent Romanian Louis, neither the accent nor the character, but there are very satisfying turns from Sam Lupton – reminiscent of a young David Jason – as the pill-popping, nervy spiv “call me 'Arry” Robinson, and from Damian Williams, excellent as the slow-witted, ham-fisted “Mr Lawson”, looking a little like Oliver Hardy in his ill-fitting jacket.

The cast is completed by Marcus Houden as the long-suffering Constable MacDonald; he also contributes a hilarious cameo as Mrs Jane Tromleyton, figurehead of the “swarm” of elderly ladies who come to hear the performance by the bogus Boccherini lovers, mercifully curtailed by the interval. They are played by a community chorus, locally sourced for each venue.

The rickety old house, with its dodgy plumbing and faulty lights, not to mention permanent resident General Gordon, the raucous Macaw, will take to the road again at the end of the month, to be shoe-horned onto the stage of the Salisbury Playhouse, where it completes its tour.

production photograph: Mike Kwasniak

THE LADYKILLERS

THE LADYKILLERS

LADS at The Tractor Shed

25.03.2015

As LADS opened their Ealing comedy, there were Ladykillers on the box, too. Turned out to be female pest control experts …

As fans of the 50s film will know, the vermin here are a pseudo string quartet who plan a heist from a room rented to them by an innocent little old lady.

LADS' production, produced and directed by Carole Hart, boasts a splendid set, with chez Wilberforce spaciously suggested, and a spare room – a little cramped, even for chamber music – which revolves impressively to reveal the roof outside the window.

This ingenious version by Graham Linehan [a recent success in the West End] is packed with gags, often physical, and a colourful cast of characters.  There's steam from the passing trains, a lethally long scarf, the criminals tumbling from the cupboard.

The brains behind the gang, “Professor” Marcus – the Alec Guinness role – is played with fine comic style by Daniel Tonbridge. His motley crew are Robin Warnes as geriatric cross-dresser and con-man Major Courtney, Keith Spencer unfailingly amusing as the slow-witted ex-boxer Mr Lawson - his demise particularly impressive, Alan Elkins as the vicious Louie, and Adam Hart excellent as the pill-popping teddy-boy.

Mrs Wilberforce, landlady to the mob and police time-waster, is played by Joan Cooper, convincingly clueless, in a wig that is terrible even by am-dram standards.

The fun could have been a little faster, with a touch more confidence in some performances, but nonetheless a laudable attempt at a challenging theatrical style. It's all “rather fantastical” [as David Hudson's weary copper has it] but most enjoyable – an affectionate tribute to a much-loved movie.

THE LADYKILLERS.

THE LADYKILLERS

at the Gielgud Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue

14.12.11

Fans of the '55 film – and they are legion – have nothing to fear.

This is not a spoof – think 39 Steps – nor is it a "remake", like the Coens ill-judged Hollywood version.

What we get is an affectionate, respectful treatment of the screenplay, with a little bit of edge and a few nuggets of comedy gold for the 21^st Century. Even the music [Ben and Max Ringham] pays homage to the original.

Three elements in particular make Sean Foley's production, down here at the Gielgud after a successful run in Liverpool, one of the best things in town. The script, by Graham [Black Books] Linehan keeps much of the dialogue, but sifts and adds, tightening the pace and bringing almost all of the action indoors.

The set – Michael Taylor - is a marvellous crooked house, on several levels, none of them horizontal, with a staircase spiralling off into the flies. Its impressive revolve also hosts the Heist – birds-eye view – and the Copenhagen tunnel. In one show-stopping set-piece, a passing train sets in motion a crazy ballet of furniture and fittings. And the cast is faultless, from the bizarre Little Britain gaggle of lady visitors to the little old landlady – Marcia Warren, who's much in demand for this kind of role – and her lodger, the sinister Professor Marcus [a brilliant Peter Capaldi].

His gang of five – the string quintet – includes James Fleet as the Major, a shifty conman now also a cross-dresser, eagerly eyeing Mrs W's lilac gown, Clive Rowe as a slow-witted ex-boxer, Ben Miller as the idiomatically challenged Romanian, and Stephen Wight as Harry – popping pills and on the sharp end of much of the slapstick.

There is satire [Bankers!] and wit - "Being fooled by art is one of the primary pleasures afforded the middle class" – with plenty of farce [the blackboard, the meeting in the poky cupboard] and running gags. And those fans will welcome the Boccherini, and Marcus's endless scarf ...

image by Manuel Harlan