SINBAD THE SAILOR

SINBAD THE SAILOR

at the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

29.11.2016

All the traditional ingredients of the Wolsey's wonderful rock'n'roll offerings are there: the actor/musicians, the chorus of cute critters, the visual puns [“pulled pork”] and the sound effects.

And after last Christmas's Sword in the Stone, this year we're treated to another fresh new storyline, and some unexpected characters. Our story-teller, and good fairy, is Scheherazade [Elizabeth Rowe], who brings the three couples to her love shack for the wedding finale. Our hero is Sinbad, of course, a likeable Steve Rushton, who woos the Princess Pearl [Daniella Piper]. His rival for her hand is the evil Sinistro, played by Wolsey favourite Dan de Cruz. He gets to quote Lear for his storm scene, which also has one of the best numbers, Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water. Much of the music is from the 70s and 80s: one of the most successful is the hilariously subverted Living on a Prayer, complete with smoke machine and fan supplied by a nimble stage-hand. Possibly a thinly disguised Graham Kent, who gives us a brawny Dame Donna. His stooge, Tinbad the Tailor, was very amusing done by Rob Falconer.

Half the fun for the grown-ups in the audience is seeing everyone slickly swapping instruments: the Dame on trumpet, the three girls a great saxophone trio, and almost everyone behind the drum kit at some point. The direction – Peter Rowe, who penned the witty, naughty script – is lively and energetic. The ten-strong company seem genuinely to be having a good time – though come the end of January that might be hard to sustain – Sinbad's Saucy Sausage sails on at the Wolsey until the 28^th.

production photograph: Robert Day

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM

at the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

22.06.2016


Stars and portents align to celebrate the Wolsey's 15^th birthday year. Opening on Midsummer Night, 400 years after Shakespeare's death, this Dream brings Trevor Nunn back to his home town, where he saw his first ever Shakespeare [the Dream, of course] at the age of 12. And it means he's now directed, in his long and illustrious career, every one of the 37 plays.
We're in 1930s India, the height of the Raj, with the Duke as the Viceroy. It's a concept that fits beautifully, intellectually as well as artistically.
It makes sense of Hermia's forced marriage, for one thing. There's a wonderfully telling moment as Pyramus & Thisbe ends, and Bottom explains that the wall is down that parted their fathers.
It seems the norm now to airbrush Athens out of the text, but otherwise Shakespeare's words survive intact, if trimmed a little, and the verse is universally well spoken.
Matt Rawle and Fiona Hampton are the upper-crust couple – he sports a pith helmet for the hunt - and also of course Oberon and Titania. Sam Dastor is excellent as Egeus, the old-fashioned father of the bride, and Michelle Bishop manages a unique double as First Fairy and Phyllis [ … straight …], aide to Theseus, and the only character to change name or gender.
The colourful Fairy Band, moving expressively in the background, are children – casting which would not look out of place in Irving's Lyceum. By contrast the Indian Boy, bone of contention between the Fairy King and Queen, wears a plain white costume.
The quartet of lovers are superbly done – Neerja Naik is poor Hermia, Assad Zaman her Demetrius. Harry Lister Smith, in his wonderful cream Brideshead suit, is a very posh Lysander, and Imogen Daines is a hilarious “maypole” Helena, drinking and smoking as she's rejected. Act III scene 2 – another part of the wood, and the opening of Part Two in this production – is brilliantly choreographed, from the moment when Esh Alladi's lithe Puck and Oberon glide into hiding to Hermia's bemused exit.
The Rude Mechanicals are itinerant tradesman, each bringing the tools of his trade. The absent Weaver, for example, is represented by a bobbin of scarlet thread on a mat, possibly of his own making. Kulvinder Ghir makes a wonderful Bottom: his “dream” monologue is exemplary, his warm-up before the rehearsal a delight. Muzz Khan is a gormless Starveling, his Moon waning as Ghir's operatic Pyramus milks his big scene. And Deven Modha's Flute brings real feeling to his Thisbe, quietly out-performing the blustering Bottom.
Libby Watson's design is glorious – the gorgeous palace, the deep dark wood, the pastoral patchwork of fields suggesting Puck's flight – and splendidly lit by Mark Jonathan – Titania's bower backlit by moonlight.
We're spoilt for Dreams this year – on the BBC, at the RSC, in the Globe. This provincial wonder is probably the most important, and certainly one of the most deliciously enjoyable.

production photo by Mike Kwasniak

SHADOWLANDS

SHADOWLANDS

Birdsong Productions at the New Wolsey Theatre Ipswich
16.03.16


A beautifully crafted revival of William Nicholson's dramatization of the unlikely relationship between C S Lewis and Joy Davidman. Directed by Alistair Whatley on the impressive touring set he designed with Anne-Marie Woodley.
High windows, one of which will lead to another world, an institutional timepiece, ticking but stuck at 8:32, echoed by a mantel clock beneath, a fire in the hearth.
Jack Lewis's opening lecture uses a blackboard to excellent effect, a row of students with their backs to us. In Stephen Boxer's performance, he's dry but humorous, vocally slightly reminiscent of Nigel Hawthorne, who created the role back in 1989. As the drama unfolds, his long-locked emotional life surfaces slowly, until at last the tears flow. An honest, heart-wrenching performance, giving the text room to breathe, suggesting the unspoken thoughts and impulses behind the academic façade.
The rest of the cast is equally strong. Denis Lill is the taciturn Warnie, kindly but gruff, his only reaction to his brother's bombshell to pause a second before turning the page of his book. Amanda Ryan gives a moving American poet, feisty to the last, her pain somehow etched into her face even when she first enters.
Atheist Professor Riley is a caustic, clubbable Simon Shackleton, Ian Marr a brusque doctor, Jeffrey Harmer plays the only married man in Lewis's misogynistic coterie, the vicar who won't bend the rules to marry a divorced woman. The ceremony is eventually carried out by Richard Holliday's kindly cleric, the image, at least in profile, of Archbishop Fisher.
I understand why you can't have a boy playing Douglas on tour. Though you do lose the “child caught in the magic spell”, in Shannow Rowcroft's nuanced performance, you gain an intelligent portrayal of the uncomfortable, confused little boy sitting in the window.
'His' silver apple sequence, an inspired way of getting the hospital bed off stage, is one of many wonderful moments in a memorable production. The music – Mia Soteriou – evokes the choral tradition of the city of dreaming spires, including a surprisingly polished In Dulci Jubilo.

THE LAST FIVE YEARS

THE LAST FIVE YEARS

at the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

01.03.2016

for The Reviews Hub

Rumoured to be based on the writer's own marriage woes, this charming chamber musical fits the Wolsey like a glove.

The structure is ingenious, with more than a hint of I Do, I Do and Merrily We Roll Along. Bride and groom meet – and duet – somewhere in the middle; otherwise their timelines move in opposing directions, giving an ironic twist to past and future passions.

In Peter Rowe's fluid, uncluttered production, both characters are frequently on stage together, sometimes interacting, sometimes not. Which makes even greater demands on the actors, and the audience, since time shifts in an instant, as Cathy and Jamie dart around their five year relationship.

Katie Birtill and Chris Cowley both inhabit their roles with conviction, with plenty of vocal power and engaging presence. She, the loser in this love match, eliciting rather more sympathy than he does, as he unattractively eyes up “other women” almost as soon as the knot is tied. But in the end it's work – he's a flavour-of-the-month novelist, she an aspiring actor – that comes between them. She stands starry-eyed stage right as he pens a last letter and packs up his things. Just ninety minutes before – straight through, no interval - he falls naively in love, delighted to be dating outside his faith, (he's seen “every Shapiro in Washington Heights”), as she laments the end of her marriage in “Still Hurting”.

As in Tell Me On A Sunday, the musical numbers are more like a song cycle than a sung-through show. Charming pastiches, not stinting on a good tune; like Sondheim, Brown knows how to tell a story in witty, snappy lyrics. A very stylish band – ready for a Schubert quintet, by the look of them – with MD Caroline Humphris at the grand piano. Some lovely numbers, though nothing to whistle on the way home. “Summer in Ohio”, about Cathy's awful experience in summer stock, the Chorus Line moment as she auditions, using a wonderful homage to the Great American Musical (“When You Come Home To Me”).

The staging is simple and intimate – magical fairy lights for the opening, soft spotlights for the solos, a table doubling as a pier on the lake, a love boat either side of the wedding, with her dialogue cleverly mirroring his as she retreats into the past. The moments when the two young lovers are happy in each other's company are a rare treat: standing together like the couple on the cake, Cathy sitting rapt and cross-legged as Jamie acts out his Christmas story of the tailor Schmuel before making her a present … of a watch.

production photograph: Mike Kwasniak

THE SILVER SWORD

THE SILVER SWORD

Sell a Door at the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

04.11.2015

An ingenious adaptation of Ian Serrailler's much loved classic. Four refugee children make their perilous way across a Europe torn apart by war. The Balicki children are seeking their parents; they somewhat reluctantly agree to their friend Jan tagging along.

Migrant children fleeing conflict are sadly not unknown to today's young readers. There are many explicit parallels in Susie McKenna's stage version, including a heartfelt plea for us all to shoulder some of the responsibility for the welfare of these vulnerable victims of war.

But the human, often amusing, story does not feel like an appeal or a homily. It's given its structure by a rag-tag company of strolling players, actor/musicians who feel part of a tradition much older than Europe's political borders. “There's a place beside the fire for the teller of the tale,” they sing. And the tale they decide to tell is a story of hope, a risky adventure at the end of which “the luckiest girl in Europe” does indeed find the father and mother she lost in Warsaw.

Strong performances from a mostly young cast. Rachel Young is Ruth, struggling to keep her siblings together on the journey. And Tom Mackley is outstanding as Jan, a wayward, light-fingered liability on their quest.

The many adult roles are doubled. Nathan Turner is excellent as the kindly Ivan, Jim and Joe, “the optimistic voice of the occupation”. Alexander Knox plays Adam, as well as Major Hargreaves, whose Coward-ly solo number is a delightful pastiche, leading into a trio of “plunder” quartets, in which he manages to join the ranks of the Andrews Sisters.

Princess of the Brazen Mountain is another lovely song, led by local favourite Julian Harries, who plays Joseph, the father, amongst other roles. The music, by Steven Edis, suggests the folk tradition of Poland, and flows naturally from the narrative.

Back projection of historical photographs reminds us of the real people displaced by the fighting. Music and lighting combine to give an epic, expressionistic air to key moments.

The improvisatory feel is enhanced by the objets trouvés animal puppets by Scott Brooker: Ludwig the rag rug dog, Bistro the chimp, Jimpy the kitchen utensil cockerel.

A moving production, using the rough magic of theatre and story-telling to bring a gripping yarn to new audiences, and to remind us all of the innocent victims of war. Not all of whom can share the happy ending Serrailler gives to Ruth, Edek, Jan and Bronia.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

The Rock'n'Roll Panto at the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

02.12.2014

for The Public Reviews

Peter Rowe's latest Rock'n'Roll panto, directed by Rob Salmon, takes the Beauty and the Beast fairytale, with its generous slug of Cinderella, and serves with generous measures of great music.

All performed by ten phenomenally talented actor-musicians.

That's the Wolsey tradition, as are live sound effects from the keyboard, the punning show-and-tell props, and the cuddly animals augmenting the chorus.

It's great to see the colourful characters creep back on to take their place on the band-stand – the Good Fairy on sax, the Dame on guitar – but when you promote the pit to the stage, there's not a lot of space left for scenery. We have to use our imaginations for the scary forest and the Castle of the Beast, though Barney George's all-purpose art deco design is a masterpiece of restrained elegance.

Much of the action, including the amazing flying chicken, takes place on Mucky Manor farm. And the jokes are sometimes none too clean; Bessie Bigbreaths, Eamonn Fleming's down-to-earth Dame, sets the tone, in a cheeky performance which recalls the golden age of the Crazy Gang. Sporting farmyard chic, a provocative “pulling dress” and a wedding outfit for the walk-down including a halo of peacock's feathers. [Beauty's dad, the Baron Hardup figure, is Sir Peacock Beauregarde, played by Daniel Carter-Hope.]

Not a weak performance amongst these panto pro's: Dan de Cruz not only did the Prince/Beast double – perhaps too beastly crude for the “kind and generous” monster – but also two completely different messengers, one of whom had the excellent “Generally Hospitable” joke …

Esther Biddle makes a lovely, maternal Godmother, and handles the verse-speaking impeccably, the Ugly Sisters [very stylish, with their nearly-labels designer bags] are Sarah Mahony and Nicola Bryan, and poor little Beauty is Lucy Wells in a girlish dress; even for the wedding she only gets a slightly more flattering outfit.

Broker's Men, with loads of physical comedy, are Ben Goffe and Adam Langstaff, and Desperate Dan is engagingly done by Matt Jopling.

Those great old songs are key to the show's success of course: Let Me Entertain You [Robbie, not Gypsy] for the Beast's pyrotechnic finale to Act One, impressively styled by De Cruz, Perfect, with Fairy sax solo, When Will I See You Again, belted out by Bessie in the style of a club vocalist, and the O'Jays' Love Train for the carefully choreographed encore.

Quickfire gags, audience participation, with Andrew from row D relishing his fifteen seconds of fame, Jekyll and Hyde moments and a tip-top playlist make for hugely enjoyable panto fun. It even manages to be true, in its fashion, to the eighteenth century original, with the evil fairy, the merchant and the magic mirror ...

this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews

THE GONDOLIERS

THE GONDOLIERS

Opera della Luna at the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

09.05.2014

for The Public Reviews

The Venetian Initiative sees Opera della Luna, that iconoclastic, hugely entertaining pocket opera company, taking the Gilbert and Sullivan gospel into the community. In its most ambitious venture yet, with Arts Council funding, they are recruiting a team of young music-theatre performers for each venue, opening in Ipswich before moving up for a week in the Lowry, Salford.

They've chosen The Gondoliers, the last of the Savoy Opera successes, richly scored, with a clever blend of satire and Latin charm.

Perversely, perhaps because this is basically the production Jeff Clarke did for Buxton a couple of years ago, they've chosen to play it relatively straight. None of their usual spin, no googlies, little of their traditional invention born of necessity.

Money has been well spent. We are greeted with a familiar Venetian skyline, gondolas in front, lovely flown pieces of architectural detail, and a stage filled with those “roses white and roses red” which will spell out not only the names of favourite gondoliers, but, cheekily, AMORE, OMG and more. And for Act Two, after a protracted interval, a gloriously baroque Barataria, gilded mouldings and a magnificent throne, which swivels to reveal the Inquisitor's torture chamber for the dénouement.

The frocks are fabulous, too – the Duchess's generous gown, needing a divan all to itself, traditional garb for the nobs, but a more modern look for the contadine: flowery prints with matching galoshes [Venice being wet underfoot, presumably].

The opening sequence is splendid, with the gondoliers in sexy dark glasses given some impressively macho dance moves.

Elsewhere the inspiration is uneven: the jointly ruling monarchs – sharing the role and the regalia – were a tad dull in their “pleasures of a king” number, but the rhythmic boot blacking and spud bashing works wonderfully for Take A Pair Of Sparkling Eyes. Good use is made of freeze motion moments.

It is a great cast: Greg Castiglioni as Luiz, the rightful king, and Victoria Joyce in fine voice as his Casilda. Stephen Brown and Robert Gildon make likeable republican royalty, with Maria Jones and Lynsey Docherty strongly characterized as their feisty rustic wives.

Traditional G&S performances from Kristin Finnigan as an imposing Duchess [her big number a highlight] and Carl Sanderson as a very British hidalgo. Opera della Luna favourite Ian Belsey does not disappoint as Don Alhambra, the dialogue and the vocals richly relished, wearing the kind of character slap you don't see so often nowadays.

The locally sourced chorus fill the stage nicely, and are given dance routines and individual characters to work with.

Perhaps not “travelling with a full band”, but an excellent palm court pit ensemble, with director Jeff Clarke at the piano as usual.

On opening night there were one of two glitches and uncertainties, and the lighting was patchy. It's a big production for Opera della Luna, and will bed in nicely at the Lowry, I'm sure.

Musical theatre has an enthusiastic following amongst young people. Fuddy-duddy G&S less so. This laudable initiative aims to redress the balance. But I still can't help thinking that a less straightforward treatment, perhaps along the lines of their catwalk Mikado, might be a more accessible way into the Savoy canon.

photograph from the Buxton production

this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews

MISS NIGHTINGALE

MISS NIGHTINGALE
Mr Bugg and the New Wolsey Theatre, at the New Wolsey Theatre Ipswich

01.04.2014

for The Public Reviews

A nurse from the North Country longs to be on the burlesque stage. Her ambition is fostered by three men in wartime London – a black-marketeer Mr Fixit, a war-hero toff and a Polish Jew in exile.

Matthew Bugg's labour of love began its life here in Ipswich last year. Now, after a national tour, substantial rewrites and cast changes it's back at the Wolsey before taking to the road once more.

The setting for this intimate tale is simple but evocative – footlights, a bed and a baby grand , with the tiny stage of The Night Light at the back. One of the many members' clubs, deep underground in the dark, which kept Londoners entertained through the Blitz; “We Aim To Tease” its motto. Clandestine meetings in the blackout for The Enemy Within – homosexuals at risk of blackmail or jail.

These worlds are powerfully evoked in the opening minutes. One of the many strengths of this piece is the bond between the musical numbers and the messy lives of those involved. It helps, of course, that the company of six are all actor-musicians. So the emotional ties between Miss Nightingale herself and her composer/pianist and her impresario are repeatedly represented by their saxes and her muted trumpet. Art mirrors life on this cabaret stage - “I Don't Care” - and, most effectively, the Bluebird song, expressing her distress at the loss of her soldier brother Harry. And it's Harry at the piano, played by Bugg himself. A heart-stopping moment.

The casting is very strong. Harry Waller is outstanding as George, the refugee who longs to bring a little bit of his [1930s] Berlin over here to Blighty, torn between his singer and his lover. Jill Cardo is the forces sweetheart – more Gracie than Vera – who puts over the numbers with style and heart. Her invocation of Noel Coward, gorgeously dressed, one of many highlights of the burlesque act; the fallen Blue Angel, the sausage-starved housewife, the riveter ...

Tobias Oliver is an uncomplaining dogsbody. Tomm Coles is Sir Frank, who seeks Maggie's hand in a lavender marriage, and Adam Langstaff is her amoral first love, Tom, who threatens to ruin everything by blackmailing Frank over his affair with George.

Despite the tightening and the rewrites, there is still a good deal of expositional dialogue, with the themes and the history sometimes getting in the way of the characters. And one confrontation seems to be conducted entirely in clichés – it's never a good sign when you can anticipate the rejoinders before they're spoken.

But the music more than compensates for any dramatic shortcomings. Traditional love songs - “Mister Nightingale” - the clever trio “Could It Be”, the key changes in “Someone Else's Song”, the feel-good flash-forward ENSA finale, and, best of all, the a cappella tap-dancing “Stand Up And Be Counted”. This, of course, is pure pastiche, and these ersatz saucy wartime hits are superbly done, from the double-entendre come-on of “Let Me Play On Your Pipe” to the priceless “Sausage Song”.

Miss Nightingale is a touching, thought-provoking reminder of a lost world: light entertainment and illicit love in those dark days of the 1940s.

this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews

DICK WHITTINGTON

DICK WHITTINGTON

at the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

26.11.13

for The Public Reviews

Not exactly an austerity panto, but this Dick Whittington is set in the grey postwar world of the 1950s. Diego Pitarch's inspired design has an illuminated Mansion House tube sign, and the tiled walls of the London Underground. There's a red phone box stage right for Fairy Bowbells, and manhole covers helpfully inscribed Foul Sewer London.

The transformation from rat-infested underworld to gold-paved streets is distinctly underwhelming, and only three characters have a costume change for the walk-down.

But no corners are cut in the performance; the ten actor-musicians give their all in this, the 13^th rock'n'roll pantomime to hit the Wolsey stage.

It never ceases to amaze – a dame at the drum-kit, a cat on the trumpet, and full eight-piece backing band, plus vocals, for the big solo numbers. All drawn from the same super-talented team of ten.

A J Dean, a fresh-faced, winsome Dick, sporting a cheeky smile and the obligatory spotted handkerchief, brings a very authentic rock'n'roll style to the song and dance routines. His Alice is a very energetic Nicola Hawkins; she has a wonderful way with the vocals, too, her First Cut Is The Deepest a highlight amongst the 21 musical numbers.

“Hiya, saucepots !” - it's Sarah the Cook, a man-hungry dame very much in the old-fashioned mould: funny walks, mildly suggestive, easily outraged, besotted with Steve in row B. A superb performance from Sean Kingsley, who has impressive West End credentials. The other comedy star is Tim Bonser as Billy Bungalow, with just the right blend of pathos, physicality and sheer silliness [bubble pipe, rat-a-pult …].

Wolsey favourite Shirley Darroch is back as the good fairy. She has a down-to-earth Cockney delivery, and certainly knows how to sell a song - “Turn, turn”, a clever choice, is excellently delivered.

Jofre Alsina makes a pompous Alderman, and Dan de Cruz, ducking and diving as King Rat, leads an epidemic of rodents, including the Rat Pack of Punks giving their Sex Pistols tribute. CiCi Howells, who'll play Polly Peachum here next year, is a lovely, slinky Taffy the Cat.

The playlist is eclectic: real 50s classics [Tutti Frutti] jostling with Meatloaf, Mud and Bonnie Tyler. “Walking on Sunshine” works very well, as does the high-octane encore “Tiger Feet”.

Peter Rowe's script retains all the key elements of the traditional show – some lovely rhyming couplets, too – but manages to bring sophistication and freshness to it at the same time. Like the music, not everything is retro – both Boris J and George O get a name-check – and as Sarah points out, “it's not all about Dick!”. And there is an ominous sign that last year's gangnam might be this year's twerking.

There's a welcome sprinkling of the surreal – Derek the Fly, a few bars of Cats, a tumbleweed moment – and the self-referential - “Seeing stars ? Not in this panto, mate ...”. Even the sound effects – often proudly flatulent – are the object of the Dame's frustrated fury.

Not so many local jokes this year, but every reference to Dick's home town is met with a proud cheer from the packed Ipswich audience, welcoming back this uniquely enjoyable blend of panto and popular music.

production photograph: Mike Kwasniak

this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews

THE PRIVATE EAR / THE PUBLIC EYE

THE PRIVATE EAR / THE PUBLIC EYE

Presented By The Original Theatre Company And Guildford’s Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

New Wolsey Theatre Ipswich

04.11.13

for The Public Reviews

Peter Shaffer's delightful double bill was a huge hit on both sides of the Atlantic back in 1962.

We're back in the days of Ascot water heaters and coffee bars, in a theatrical landscape before the National and the kitchen sink, when revue was fashionable, and it was not unusual to enjoy two, or more, short plays in one evening.

Alastair Whatley's revival, the first in 50 years, captures the style remarkably well.

In The Public Eye, Bob lives alone in a dingy bedsit, opera posters on the wall, a curtained alcove for a wardrobe. He's geeky, shy and he comes from Warrington. But he's met this girl at a concert, and invited her back for supper. To help him with the Mateus Rosé and the [tinned] mushroom soup he's roped in Ted from the import/export office where they work.

They're as different as biscuits and cheese. Ted is cocksure, laddish, blessed with the gift of the gab. Could be Naughton's Alfie, or Orton's Mr Sloane. So it's no surprise that when Doreen turns up in her fake fur, she's more taken with the helpmate than the host, who does himself no favours by pumping Peter Grimes over the Wharfedales.

But the Behemoth stereo has another track up its LP sleeve, and the power of Puccini almost succeeds in seducing the pair of them, as she waits coyly on the bed and he sits stroking the ocelot.

This sequence is especially well done, a potent mix of the tender and the farcical.

Rupert Hill gives a bravura, amoral Ted, and Siobhan O'Kelly is excellent as the awkward guest – body language the most eloquent here.

The meal itself, a stylised fast-forward fantasy, is another highlight, with Stephen Blakely's Bob left a gooseberry at his own feast. His character is superbly observed; we can see that he desperately wants to break free from his anorak cocoon, but in the end his courage fails him, he tacitly concedes defeat to Ted, and, heart-rendingly, gouges a scratch across Madama Butterfly.

We're encouraged to see links between the two pieces, and, in a wonderfully choreographed brown-overalled ballet, the scene is changed after the interval, before our eyes – and Blakely's – as his lonely room becomes a swish accountancy practice, and, by means of a moustache, a mac and a pork-pie hat, he is reborn as a private detective.

In The Public Eye it's Julian's cross-talk with stuffy old accountant Charles [superb work from Jasper Britton] which provides the comedy gold, though it's the relationship between Charles and his young wife – very much a child of the 60s and another stylish characterization from O'Kelly – which is at the heart of the drama.

She's a free spirit, he's jealous, and it's up to Julian to heal their marriage with a cunning plan.

Shaffer has much to say about unhappiness, frustration and fidelity, but it's the beautifully judged masterclasses in farce that make these bitter-sweet period pieces such an enjoyable trip back to Shaftesbury Avenue in the Sixties.

this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews