Friday, February 12, 2010

TRAVELS WITH MY AUNT
[reviewed for The Public Reviews]

Cut to the Chase at the Queen's Theatre Hornchurch

09.02.10

by Giles Havergal
adapted from the novel by Graham Greene


Graham Greene's glorious picaresque adventure – the only book he wrote for fun – is brilliantly brought to life at the Queen's by Cut to the Chase, their resourceful resident company.

Half the fun here is watching necessity become the mother of invention. Just three chaps, all of them playing Henry Pulling, the suburban Candide at the heart of the story, plus the Stage Manager [Simon Jessop], who provides props, costume, scene changes and sound effects. The fifteen men and nine women of the dramatis personae are almost all done by the talented trio, sharing the narration, sometimes in unison, and swapping characters, sometimes in mid-sentence. A tour-de-force indeed.

Sam Pay narrates too, but is usually to be found inhabiting the formidable Aunt Augusta, deaconess of the Doggies' Church, fox furs and veils doing little to mask his banker's moustache. The colourful supporting cast, then, is usually shared between the two remaining Henrys – Marcus Webb, whose Zachary Wordsworth is one of the most memorable creations, and Elliot Harper. 14-year-old Yolanda, mini-skirted Tooley, her CIA father, Mr Visconti the war criminal, the shy Miss Keane … all come to vivid life in a moment. Not to mention the three caricature policemen.

This silly trio gave the Stage Manager a chance to shine. Usually he's making the onstage noises off: coconut shells, a microphone and a reel-to-reel tape machine. I liked the first car effect, complete with road-kill, and his Wolfie in another motor, but his finest hour was surely the goodbye from the Orient Express as it pulls out of Paris.

Rodney Ford's wonderful set is filled with little doors, like a giant Advent calendar. Behind them, props, paraphernalia and a series of beds. For the second act, the calendar opens out, pinstripes are changed for tropical suits and panama hats, and, as the illuminated route map shows us, we are in South America.

Here, the plot thickens a little too much, slowing the action, but we are compensated by the ingenious doubling when the story demands more actors, by inspired flights of fancy, like the suitcase washroom, and by the unexpectedly moving moment after the death of Wordsworth, when the characters are confused in a shadowy Latin waltz, and Aunt Augusta's true identity is revealed.

Liz Marsh has form at the Queen's as actor and choreographer, but this was the first time she's directed in the main-house. What an impressive début.


photo: Nobby Clark
this review first appeared on The Public Reviews

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