Mischief Theatre Company at
the
Civic
Theatre Chelmsford
17.02.2014
They must
be well-endowed, those Cornley Polytechnic thespians. Generously
funded, to build such an imposing set, with lovely oval windows and a
study perched above.
As the
title implies, this piece imagines an amateur production where
everything that can go wrong will do so. A relentless chain of
catastrophes, minor and major, that keeps the audience continuously
chuckling and chortling.
I spend a
fair few evenings watching amateur drama, some of it excellent, some
of it execrable, though never as
hilariously horrendous as this. There are some
recognizable characters – the thrusting leading lady, the nervous
newcomer, the character actor who struggles with polysyllables. And
some familiar fiascos, too – the looping dialogue, the wayward
props, the premature entrance.
These
energetic young actors [LAMDA Graduates] are on their first ever UK
tour, a rare chance for us in the Sticks to enjoy a
taste of the best of the Fringe, from the Red Lion to Edinburgh to
the old Whitehall, and now travelling the length and breadth,
finishing at the other Civic, Darlington, in June.
and for The Public Reviews
this piece first appeared on ”The Public Reviews
and for The Public Reviews
The
Art of Coarse Acting meets Noises Off. Co-written by Mischief Theatre
company members Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shields and
directed by Mark Bell, The
Play That Goes Wrong introduces
the "Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society" whose production of
a 1920's murder mystery falls apart before our eyes.
The
venture began as a fringe piece, little more than an hour long. Now,
for this national tour, it's twice that length, including the
interval – not necessarily an improvement. And the spoof programme,
much admired at the Red Lion and the Trafalgar Studios, is nowhere to
be found. Not even a cast list. Mislaid, no doubt, along with the
[running gag] Duran Duran box set. And the dog.
It
does remain unbelievably funny, though, reducing the house to
helpless laughter. More of an extended sketch than a proper farce, it
boasts an amazing technical set, and some exhaustingly physical
performances, as the hapless actors drop like flies and risk serious
injury in a health and safety nightmare. Props are mislaid and
substituted. Fixtures and fittings take on a life of their own. A
dialogue loop sees the actors wax increasingly hysterical as they
struggle to break free. Whisky goes up in flames, white spirit is the
unpalatable substitute. And that raised level – study with desk,
chair and globe drinks cabinet – is surely asking for trouble ...
The
“director” [Henry Shields], who delivers a front-cloth filler at
the top of each act, also plays the Inspector, so he's on stage to
see his début dreams collapsing around him. He does rueful
desperation and disappointment wonderfully, in a faintly Fawlty
style. Jonathan Sayer is Perkins the faithful retainer, as played by
an awkwardly unconfident amateur, reading those tricky long words off
his palm. The flighty young ingénue is amusingly done by Charlie
Russell, replaced by an increasingly bold ASM after the first of many
maiming mishaps. But the award for the best incarnation of stage
fright, gauche, nervous and grinning in terror, is Dave Hearn,
playing both Cecil the corpse's brother, and Arthur the Gardener.
Techies
[played perfectly by actual actors, including Rob Falconer's grumpy
sparks] are let loose amongst us at the incoming and the interval,
while on stage we watch a relentless succession of slapstick and
sight gags, performed with precision timing and real relish by an
excellent ensemble.
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