Working with award-winning playwright Richard Bean and Physical Comedy Director Cal McCrystal, National Theatre Director Nicholas Hytner has put together an end-of-the-pier knockabout farce that pays nostalgic homage to the last days of travelling variety music hall acts in the early sixties, while drawing form and inspiration from eighteenth-century Italian playwright Carlo Goldoni’s The Servant of Two Masters.
Anyone who is old enough to remember the BBC’s The Good Old Days will have an idea of what variety as a genre entails – an eccentric concoction of clowning, innuendo, stand-up, and musical mayhem that encourages an audience out of stupor and into party mood. Setting the action of One Man… in Brighton, infamous of old for its ‘dirty weekend’ reputation, added some sauce to go with some very credible English roots.
Of the play Hytner says, “It takes a while to realise there’s no substance, it has nothing to say about the human condition, it is completely unsophisticated, it’s old fashioned low comedy, but low comedy with a really really ancient pedigree. It’s what the Greeks used to play in rep with high tragedy. And when the audience tunes in to its innocence, I think there is a letting go of all the expectation of sophistication which is I hope is a release in a way that I think that comedy should be a release.”
Actor Gavin Spokes was our ‘master of ceremonies’ for the night, a larger-than-life hub for the shenanigans and nonsense that spiraled around his portrayal of the very very silly Francis Henshall.
Henshall quickly wins us over as he shares his personal inner frustrations with us, literally and hilariously beating himself up in the process. He then makes a complete pig’s ear out of his desperate attempts to earn a bit of money to buy some longed-for food. Like a Billy Bunteresque buffoon, Henshall attempts to satisfy the demands of two dodgy masters in return for digestive salvation. He fails deliciously at every turn.
The first half of the play reaches a crazed crescendo in a dinner scene that was classic Laurel and Hardy slapstick. I never thought I’d find myself howling with laughter at a violently shaking 83-year-old rookie waiter. Alfie, played by Michael Dylan, is whacked, smashed and squashed time and again. The more it happens, the more we giggle. But, hey, this must be part of the release Hytner was talking about!
Throughout, this slick standout NT ensemble relentlessly engages the laughter button with risqué one-liners, and a naughty postcard attitude to tits, bums and other unmentionables so deeply ingrained in the British sense of humour. All were outstanding, but in particular Alicia Davies’ depiction of the spiky but vulnerable Rachel Crabbe caught the eye.
Mark Thompson’s sets were beautifully realised. A scene involving the view back from Brighton pier to the promenade front lit with looping lights was very special.
The performance kicked off with a cracking skiffle-inspired set by The Craze, who also appeared during set changes, in the same way that quick-fire novelty acts of old used to cover while greater attractions were readying themselves behind the curtain. These sparklingly suited guys were great – singing and playing some irresistible foot-tapping numbers on guitar, double bass, washboard and banjo. By the finale we were led to believe that “Tomorrow looks a better place from here.”
A great night out for anyone not seeking the meaning of life. **** Simon Bishop
