Ray Cooney is widely regarded as Britain's master of farce, and this hyperactive comedy set in the world of politics was a success when it premiered 30 years ago. But while the precision of the play's construction remains impressive, it now feels safe.
Slick Tory MP Richard is staying in a London hotel with his starchy yet elegant wife Pamela. He has planned an afternoon of illicit fun with a secretary, and relies on his perspiring colleague George to handle the practicalities.
Amid confusion about who ought to be in which room, anxieties and misunderstandings soon multiply. We’re thrust into a realm of spurious explanations, assumed identities, slamming doors and embarrassing nudity.
Cooney himself directs, and as if that’s not enough he also plays a waiter who fancies himself as an exponent of the martial arts. The production has the right degree of energy, and the performances are lively. Nick Wilton’s George is almost unbearably manic, and Josefina Gabrielle brings a lovely poise to Pamela.
Yet there’s an abundance of notionally side-splitting business that isn’t actually funny: silly voices, the waiter’s little exhibitions of kung fu, the broken English and tottering walk of Kathryn Rooney’s Spanish chambermaid, and a glass of fizz that’s mistaken for a urine specimen but still gets enthusiastically quaffed. It says a lot that we’re expected to laugh (repeatedly) at the main characters’ surname, which is Willey.
Plenty of the audience on press night found all of this delightful. But there’s no sense of danger, in part because today the reality of political life seems much more droll than this invented version.
Until April 26 (020 7378 1713, menierchocolatefactory.com)
