Improbable Fiction

It was a stormy night as the audience took their seats at the Pavilion Theatre and little did they know, they were also in for a hurricane of hilarity with Improbable Fiction. 

This tale sails through the chaotic seas of creative writers’ block and inspiration, employing a script that teems with ingenious wordplay and sharp direction by Dave Went. 

As the curtains opened, the characterisations swept us into little giggles. It was impossible not to be caught by their quirks. The characters were a novelist’s dream—or perhaps nightmare—turning cliché storms into delightful tempests of personality. 

We begin at a gathering of creatives chaired by the affable Arnold (Jem Rowe). They are aspiring writers who are not moving very far with their plot for one reason or another. It was hard to ascertain a plotline in the early stages of the play, but I trusted the method. Alan Ayckbourn is a skilled playwright, and attention must be paid; and of course there is a payoff. A sharp twist at interval is edge of your seat stuff. 

The ensemble of writers is chaired by Arnold, who lives with his sick mother and writes instruction manuals. He is about to dive head-first into everyone else’s imagination. Rowe doesn’t get a break and works extremely hard. Ilsa (Lauren Asten-Smith) supports Arnold with his mother and makes tea, and although not a writer, she finds herself entrenched in the story. 

The remaining writers in attendance are Jess (Anthea Brown), a serious farmer who wants to write period romance. Watch out for Brown, who takes a very comical turn. Grace (Vanessa Henderson), the nervy, would be a children’s writer who has been writing her children’s book for her children, only said children are now nearly grown. Vivi (Will Shipp) is writing detective mysteries, Clem (Wills Burke) is writing Sci-fi conspiracies, and Brevis (Brendan Iddles) is the grumpy schoolmaster writing musicals without a lyricist. The cast all bounce off each other as an ensemble as the storm brings mayhem and throws the evening into chaos. The hilarity follows and I won’t spoil it, just wait for it. 

The set, designed by Abby Bishop, was an old English sitting room; old portraits and paintings lined the walls, which seemed to whisper stories. The set felt very old and remarkably devoid of creature comforts. Still, it was cleverly designed and transported the audience from the mundane to the extraordinary—like flipping a page from blank to enchanting.

Mark Dawson’s Lighting was another character in this literary ledger, casting shadows and sparks to illuminate the inner turmoils. It marked moments of inspiration with glowing brilliance and highlighted the dark, cloudy doubt of writer’s block. Changes in lighting seamlessly signalled transitions, like a reader turning pages in dim, suspenseful excitement.

And the pièce de résistance—the costumes! Each outfit was a stitch in time, transporting us through various genres and periods with sartorial stories. Be it an era-defining Victorian gown or a steampunk ensemble worthy of a sci-fi setting, Leone Sharp’s costumes were chapter and verse, offering visual narratives that matched the colourful dialogue.

Whether the melodramatic author was searching for a plot twist or the would-be sci-fi novelist was reaching for the stars, the cast and very hard-working backstage team (Babs Went, Carolyn Smalls, Carol Leaver, Stage Crew, Abby Bishop, and Mark Dennis) delivered a performance that was pure gold. 
Improbable Fiction at the Pavilion Theatre was an un-put-downable performance. The clever wordsmithery of the script and the cast and crew's energy ensured that audience members were left with a novel sense of joy. This production knows the write stuff—page after page of comedic brilliance. So, pencil us in for Improbable Fiction, where every scene is a plot thicker than the last!

Nicole Smith

Photographer: Chris Lundie