Some revivals really do need the drama of their original setting. Noël Coward’s comedy of (wishful) female infidelity is one such play, first performed 100 years ago and brought to life now as a period piece that offers insight into the mores of the day – and Coward’s fearlessness in the face of bourgeois morality. Almost banned by the UK censor, it was deeply shocking then, and amusing now, with its two interwar-era “girls behaving badly” on a champagne-fuelled night before and regretful morning after.
All of Coward’s preoccupations are here, from disappointment and distance in a pair of marriages to sexual yearning and unfaithfulness – even if the latter is not realised. Except now it is two women plotting it together. The play kicks off at the residence of Julia (Janie Dee) and Fred Steroll (Richard Teverson), over breakfast, when a newspaper notice of a divorce is read out. A sign of things to come?
Not quite. Firm friends Julia and Jane (Alexandra Gilbreath) spend the day together while Fred and Jane’s husband, Bill (Christopher Hollis), go on a golfing trip. Little do the men know that their wives are preparing to meet Maurice, a hot moustachioed Frenchman and old flame of both women whose memory reignites all the carnal desire that has lain unspent in their marriages.
Directed entertainingly by Christopher Luscombe, it builds to comic drunkenness, crossed-wire phone calls and Restoration comedy-style mayhem until the marital reckoning – and an appearance from Maurice (Graham Vick) himself, who until late in the day is an elusive, Godot-like figure.
It is not as rich as Blithe Spirit or Private Lives, and a little one note, but it is impeccably performed, with shades of 1920s screwball comedy and excellent turns from Dee, who plays Julia as blithely imperious, and Gilbreath, who becomes more cackling and crude as she tips back the bubbles. Both women bring midlife malaise and the plays’ final note of renegade spirit does not quite restore the old marital order.
Coward wrote additional material for the play in 1958, expanding the part of the maid, Saunders (Sarah Twomey), which has been included in this production. She is an absolute hoot, turning out to be a proficient dancer, French-speaker, piano player and inveterate raconteur.
The handsome set, designed by Simon Higlett, is another highlight, with all its art deco detail intact, along with elegant costumes (silver Mary Jane pumps, beaded, dropped-waist dresses) designed by Fotini Dimou.
So a nugget of dramatic history and lesser-known early play by Coward – a bookend to the Orange Tree theatre’s recent, revived trilogy of late works, Suite in Three Keys. And well worth seeing for the sheer period fun of it.
