(seen at the afternoon performance on 30th January 2022).
According to the monkey’s college law tutor, there is a judge available 24/7/365 in England and Wales to hear “Habeas Corpus.” Should one be arrested, he considered it a very sound move to get your lawyer to apply for such a hearing immediately – knowing they have to produce you before a judge ensures no “accidents” along the way. This play has nothing to do with that advice, which the monkey throws in as a free thank you for reading its ramblings.
Literally, “you shall have the body,” Alan Bennett’s ‘farce without fuss’ is appropriately titled as the sex-starved, sex-obsessed and rather sexless seek to satisfy their lusts with each other.
A 53-year-old doctor, Arthur Wicksteed (Jasper Britton) fancies a 20-something new patient Felicity Rumpers (Katie Bernstein) far more than his wife Muriel Wicksteed (Louise Gold). Their son Dennis Wicksteed (Thomas Josling) also fancies Felicity but not nearly so much as he fancies dying early of hypochondria. Dennis’s sister Constance Wicksteed (Kirsty Besterman) doesn’t really fancy her intended Canon Throbbing (Ed Madden) but does fancy bigger breasts and a make-over of her 43-year-old spinster self.
Sir Percy Shorter (Dan Starkey) fancies Felicity, Muriel and bringing down Arthur. Lady Rumpers (Carline Langrishe) fancies stopping that kind of thing. Mr Shanks (Abdul Salis) wants to fix Constance’s bust and Mr Purdue (Kelvin O’Mard) just wants to die. Cleaning Lady Mrs Swabb (Ria Jones) watches over and commentates on it all.
This is a rare and wonderful opportunity to understand just why Bennett is so acclaimed. Written in 1973, it must have been barrier-breaking. Even though (as we know from sitcoms and “Carry On” films of the era) that the role of women back then was simply to please men and not complain as the men behaved as they liked, Bennett was clearly conscious of this and sought to draw attention to it through this vicious satire.
Better still, it feels even more relevant set against today’s “cancel culture.” The entire farce relies on it here, as every peccadillo and fault leads to overblown and disproportionate reaction without rationalisation.
It helps that the play is always given an unencumbered staging. The original had just three chairs. Here designer Richard Hudson provides a simple coffin, phone wire and stuffed dog. That leaves his well-selected 70s outfits to do the talking – and presumably no trousers were hurt in the making of the show. Richard Howell paints the coast and mood with a lit backdrop and odd spotlight, while Adam Cork gives us the sounds of the era, Lucy Horton the hair and make-up and Emily Jane Boyle that Benny Hill style of movement as director Patrick Marber sets a relentless pace pausing at moments to strip another layer of conceit, jealousy, or untruth from a character at organised random.
Casting is excellent. Particular praise must go to Louise Gold and the show’s assistant director Ed Madden for covering the roles of Muriel and Canon Throbbing at short notice. Both requiring scripts to do so, it became part of their character to the extent the generous Jasper Britton incorporated it into an hilarious moment.
Britton elsewhere did enough to worry the General Medical Council but delight the audience. Nemesis Dan Starkey matched him, and the nervous will probably never want to see a doctor again. Victim Kelvin O’Mard had good reason to wish to remove himself from the situation – a sad loss as his comic timing made the most of a small role. Abdul Salis likewise maximised his impact in his short interludes and may never quite be the same after this cast have finished with him.
Caroline Langrishe and Katie Bernstein as mother and daughter manage to disconnect from each other yet share traits which become clearer as the action continues. Bernstein’s self-defensiveness and later ruthlessness towards Thomas Josling are a neat reversal, while Josling prevents his plot device from becoming repetitive by finding shades from his treatment by the others. Kirsty Besterman similarly capitalises on her character's quirks, managing a rather moving pained dignity.
Ria Jones understands wry observation, her opinions setting and driving the scenes, connecting the household as it swirls ever faster towards the moral and emotional plughole of life.
It’s all rich and sarcastic, nobody escaping either censoriousness or a degree of sympathy. Bennett’s tale goes constantly in unexpected directions, doing so without pulling punches as so many writers now seem to do.
With luck the current zeitgeist will pass and this play will be seen for what it truly is – a record of a time past yet as relevant as Shakespeare still is and worthy of the same respect and preservation.
See it with an open mind while you have the opportunity, is the monkey opinion.
4 stars.