The Play That Goes Wrong

For anyone brought up in London in the fifties, this production is an homage to the Whitehall farces of Brian Rix. It doesn’t have a real plot, it lacks sophistication, and theatre elitists will turn up their noses – but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to leave the audience weak from laughing, and that’s exactly what it does. Lord knows the world needs laughter now more than ever, and TPTGW delivers in both clichéd and innovative ways.

Set around the old “play within a play” format, we join the Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society for their production of ‘The Murder At Haversham Manor’ - a melodrama of unspeakable cheesiness. Of course, everything that can go wrong DOES go wrong, including two actresses fighting over the same role and saying the same lines, a butler who can’t pronounce anything with more than three syllables, a narcissistic director and lead actor, a sound man obsessed with Duran, Duran and a set that literally falls to pieces. It’s all there, every bit of business you could possibly imagine and a whole heap more that you would never dare think of. It’s organised chaos and one can see how it started life as Pub entertainment. It would be even more palatable with a couple of beers and a bag of chips. Yet here it is on main stages around the world (it’s soon to open on Broadway), delighting audiences everywhere. And, because it is at its core a slapstick piece in the style of Keaton, Chaplin and the pure farce of Whitehall, there are no language barriers. It truly wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t understand a word of the script, it is the visuals that grab you, shake you, and leave you in hysterics.

There are not enough superlatives for the Australian cast. They are stunning. Nick Simpson-Deeks - a superb but underused actor - is perfect as Chris Bean playing Inspector Carter. In a beautifully measured performance, he delicately balances his own exquisite comic timing with the sublimated hysteria of the character as his production literally disintegrates around him, all brilliantly played without once sacrificing credibility. This is a piece where it would be so easy to play everything OTT and lose all connection with the audience, but Simpson-Deeks handles the direct contact with the audience perfectly.

Original West End cast member James Marlowe is a great comedic talent. He allows the amateur actor Max to mug, be ungainly, upstage the rest of the cast, with sure knowledge of just when to rein in the performance and let it breathe.

Brooke Satchwell is a delight as Sandra - a terrible actress from the Academy of Coarse Acting (Sandra, not Brooke). It’s a dream role for her and certainly outside her usual comfort zone. Equally as good is Tammy Weller as Annie, The Stage Manager. The two end up in competition simultaneously playing the role of Florence Colleymore, an upper class Femme Fatale. Luke Joslin is superb as ego driven leading man Robert Grove in the role of Thomas Colleymoore, and George Kemp is both infuriating and endearing (by intent) as the over-eager, under-educated butler Dennis. Adam Dunn is a hoot, but totally believable, Trevor, and Darcy Brown (such an interesting actor) is under utilised but still makes an impression as the corpse of Charles Haversham.

But if there is a star in this production it is Nigel Hook’s astonishing set. It really is a triumph.

This isn’t intellectual or meaningful, sophisticated or cool, and it won’t give you deep and meaningful conversations over coffee. It’s just bloody good old-fashioned entertainment that has you leaving the theatre feeling better than when you entered. I’d forgotten how much I missed that.

Coral Drouyn