PRESENT LAUGHTER by Noel Coward
review by Chris Avery
Talk about a play which resonates with our times – the final dress rehearsal for Noel Coward’s new play took place on 31 August 1939, and we all know what happened three days later. Its first public performance wasn’t until 20 September 1942. In this time of Covid we all know what that feels like. Many congratulations to director David Sear for keeping his vision for this play alive over 18 months of restrictions and lockdowns and finally bringing it to fruition.
Actor-impresario, Garry Essendine (David John) lives in a frenetic world of star-struck admirers, aspiring playwrights, managers, producers and ambitious mothers, a constantly ringing telephone and callers forever at his door. And despite his protestations, one feels that he loves every moment. His long-suffering secretary, Monica (Mandy Jeffery), valet Fred (Tim Leach) and housekeeper Miss Erikson (Helen McCallum) demonstrated effective team work in preventing the edifice from total collapse. And edifice is what it is – a facade of extravagant reactions from Garry to crises of his own making.
As the play opens, we discover that Daphne-the-deb (Kathryn Bates) has spent the night at Garry’s flat after – unfortunately – having ‘forgotten’ her latch key. From the reaction of Garry’s household, it is obvious that this is not an uncommon early morning situation. Daphne is quickly sent packing by Garry’s ex-wife Liz (Helen Holgate), who has called on Garry to confide her suspicions that Joanna (Annabelle Roberts), the wife of Garry’s business partner Henry (Peter Dodds), is having an affair with Garry’s manager Morris (Rodger Lloyd). To round off a stressful morning, an over ambitious playwright from Uckfield, Roland Maule (Jonny Sellin) arrives for an appointment Garry has unwisely given him to discuss Roland’s magnum opus – modelled on the gloomy introspection favoured by Anton Chekhov. The comic stage is nicely set . . .
Talking of the set, this was quite a creation. At the centre, reflecting Garry’s position as ‘the great glorious sun’ constantly orbited by smaller planets, is a chaise longue – and what better piece of stage furniture to support extravagant posturing. It served well as a venue for many conversations and, from my point of view, was well placed at the front of the stage so that I could hear every word. Surrounding the chaise was a triumph of Art Deco – two curved stairways leading to a walkway at the rear backed by the double doors to this remarkable salon. Beautifully painted by set designer Sarah Deboys, the Art Deco design was repeated on the two doors at the front of the stage (clever use of the ADC’s ‘juliets’) giving access to Monica’s office and Garry’s always-in-demand spare room. Furniture and props were well chosen, although I was uncertain about the piece at the back of the room – was it a sideboard or a dressing table? The suitably over the top mirror, complete with silver wings, made it seem more like the latter. Costumes reflected the style of the period – lavish, flowing, in vibrant colours – and the appearance of all the cast in dressing gowns for the final bows was an amusing touch.
The acting was some of the best I’ve seen – confident, assured, fluent, accurately representing the mannerisms and style of the chattering classes of the Thirties, with the ‘lower orders’ well characterised as wryly observing their master’s eccentricities while maintaining the facade of obedient service. David John’s performance was outstanding – on stage almost all of the time, constantly in motion, energetically over-acting (in a totally appropriate manner!) delivering his many, many lines in a variety of tones and inflections. I honestly don’t know where he finds the energy – all the more impressive as this was the final performance in a run of six.
All the cast supported him well but for me one of the (other) performances of the evening came from Jonny Sellin as Roland Maude, completely convincing as the neurotic, obsessive writer in search of a muse. I was particularly entertained by his ongoing relationship with one of the Art Deco figurines which he didn’t fail to visit on his every appearance. The action was enhanced by Rodger Lloyd’s rendition of three Coward songs, including ‘Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage’ – yes, Lady Saltburn (Tricia Peroni), we’re looking at you.
The energy extended to the direction as well – this play has been David Sear’s cherished ambition for many months and he served it well. There was always something to look at – although to do so risked missing at least three trips round the set by David John, accompanied by a fusillade of words. Highly entertaining, the evening was thoroughly enjoyed by an almost full house – a wonderful sight to see as we return to theatregoing.
Congratulations to the cast, crew and director for an extremely polished performance all round.