Jermyn Street Theatre – until 31 March. Reviewed by Claire Roderick
4****
Proud Haddock’s production of WH Auden and Christopher Isherwood’s lyrical play opens with a spotlight on a clock whose hands never move. With an onstage stage evoking music hall and village hall productions, the timelessness of the seemingly bucolic setting of Pressan Ambo is firmly established, along with the depressingly repetitive nature of human history that makes the warnings in this satire about the interwar period in Europe recognisable today. Fuelling suspicion and hatred of anyone who is different, scorn of expert opinion, angry nationalism, manipulation by the press – they are all here.
Every year, a man from Pressan Ambo is chosen to leave the village and search for Francis Crewe, the heir to Honeypot Hall, who disappeared ten years ago. His reward will be the hand of Iris Crewe. This year, Alan Norman is chosen, and sets off in the company of the dog who wanders the village, renamed Francis by Alan.
On the boat to the continent, Alan meets two journalists, who, spotting a story, accompany him on his quest. He visits the brutal but image conscious monarchy of Ostnia and the highly politicised lunatic asylum of Westland before finding a previous searcher from Pressan Ambo in the red-light district, finding out that his quest has been in vain, Francis never left England. After establishing the idea that England is better than these other countries – this could never happen here – Auden and Isherwood rip this assumption to shreds in the latter part of the play.
Auden and Isherwood’s script is full of biting humour, some daft rhyming couplets and passages of lyrical narrative beauty, and director Jimmy Walters allows the plot to unfold with smooth scenery changes and cast choreography, maintaining the feel of Edwardian theatre and enhanced by Jeremy Warmsley’s evocative music. The songs in the play are a delight, and the cast deliver them with gusto. Pete Ashmore is the calm centre of the play, keeping Alan the sanest character on view, while Edmund Digby Jones is brilliantly over the top in his various unsavoury roles – delivering a chillingly convincing and familiar religious/political speech as the vicar rallying his Lads of Pressan. Eva Feiler steals every scene, sometimes with a mere twitch, in a multitude of roles, also providing wonderful piano accompaniment.
This fine production chooses the “happier” ending to the story of Alan and Francis, but still ends on a depressingly low-key note of warning to the audience – “This may happen any day…”