Mischief Theatre have struck a seam of winning theatrical productions based on the simple premise of letting the actors loose on stage to have some fun. So, credit where credit is due, the fun has crossed the footlights and rubbed off onto the audiences who, despite some less than enthusiastic reviews, have put their hard earned money where their bums go and made the company one of the theatrical success stories of the last few years. Where the Play That Goes Wrong gave actors the chance to get laughs out of the kind of mishaps that would normally give them the heebie-jeebies, the present offering lets them explore their inner child and not-too-distant early teens.

The simple premise of the play is that adults are made in childhood. It starts by giving the actors the chance to indulge in some of the kind of drama school exercises that always seem to raise a smile as they play out early years in infant school. The scene is leavened by some innocent observations on adult peccadilloes as the things that mummies and daddies say, unaware of small ears, are woven into childhood play.

The play catches hold of its theme as it moves into early teen years and all the biologically driven social angst that accompanies puberty. The future selves of somewhat stereotypical characters are now beginning to be hinted at. However, with merely the slightest whiff of subjects such as bullying, acceptance, promiscuity and homosexuality, each of which could comfortably be given fuller treatment, the writers have decided to concentrate on the comedy.

The final and longer scene finds the characters in their late twenties or early thirties at a school reunion. This is where the play gets into its stride and the writers can indulge in what I suspect they had wanted to do all along, which is explore in the rhythms and mechanics of farce. In this they are helped by the introduction of a couple of comically absurd characters; a pretend girlfriend, Chemise (Jamie Birkett) of misfit Simon (Matt Cavendish) and the man who turns up at the wrong school (Killian Macardle) who everyone feels obliged to pretend to remember. Some deft stagecraft from director, Kirsty Patrick Ward, ensures that both of the new actors get full whack from their characters. Her handling throughout ensures that the clunky changes in style are smoothed out into something like a coherent whole.

It’s an undemanding piece of light theatre, which provides smiles and laughs throughout for a careworn and be-masked audience.  ★★★☆☆ Graham Wyles    18^th August 2021