Hay Fever
Written by Noel Coward
Directed by Alisa Palmer
June 19-October 11
Avon Theatre
Approximate running time: 2 hours and five minutes (with one 15-minute interval)
Contact: Toll-free: 1.800.567.1600
Local: 519.273.1600
Written by Noel Coward
Directed by Alisa Palmer
June 19-October 11
Avon Theatre
Approximate running time: 2 hours and five minutes (with one 15-minute interval)
Contact: Toll-free: 1.800.567.1600
Local: 519.273.1600
Review by Geoff Dale
STRATFORD – When the curtain rose for the opening
act of Noel Coward’s Hay Fever, it was
obvious from the thunderous audience applause that Lucy Peacock might be
sharing the spotlight for the remainder of the production.
Not necessarily with an
actor, though the company was certainly up to the task, but rather to Douglas
Paraschuk and his wonderfully cluttered set, with numerous art works strewn
about the walls, knick-knacks littering the living space and all those
carefully studied but untidy symbols of a well-to-do family steeped in their
ridiculous bohemian artistic pretensions.
What a shambles but what a
glorious way in which to introduce the truly eccentric Bliss family, their
disorderly and high inappropriate of treating – or more to the point –
mistreating their guests, their utter disdain for normalcy and convention and
their complete lack of understanding of other seemingly normal folks that have
the misfortune to spend time with this bizarre clan.
More of a cross between
farce and a standard comedy of manners with a touch of theatre of the absurd,
the three-act production takes place in the cavernous hall of the Bliss family
home. Judith (Lucy Peacock), an on-again, off-action stage actress considering
a theatrical return is all wild gesticulations, grandiose theatric statements
and an equally odd desire to tirelessly flirt with young men.
Husband David (Kevin
Bundy), a rather self-absorbed novelist and the creator of literary works not
worth the paper on which his empty flowery phrases appear, like his wife simply
doesn’t understand the norms of society – polite or otherwise.
Their culture-vulture son
Simon’s (Tyrone Savage) greatest achievement appears to be sketching dreadful
looking nudes, whilst lying about on the floor. Daughter Sorel (Ruby Joy) may be
the most sensible one of the lot but judging by the standards set by the rest
of the family, this is not saying much in her favour.
Entering into the foray are
four guests – actually victims – invited individually by different family
members for what appears to be an elaborate parlour game at their expense for
the amusement of the hosts.
Sandy Tyrell (Gareth
Potter), a young boxer and the attention of Judith’s theatric flirtations, is
joined by Cynthia Dale’s wonderfully played socialite Myra Arundel; an innocent
and confused flapper Jackie Coryton (Ijeoma Emesowum) and a stiffer-than-stiff
diplomatist Richard Greatham (Sanjay Talwar).
Overseeing this motley crew
is the ever-smoking, wisecracking working-class maid Clara (Sarah Orenstein)
who, apparently because of class distinction, doesn’t deserve a last name.
Without question, she symbolizes what sanity and common sense there is to find
in this other-worldly household.
All cast members,
particularly Peacock, Talwar and Potter, simply eat up their roles and, while
it is in most cases a criticism, over-act to the max, gobbling up their juicy
bits of Coward dialogue, spitting them out with relish at rather ear-piercing
levels at times. Chaos in this particular world equals unabated laughter.
Dale does wonders with her
meaty role, cast in a part that does not simply require glamour and a lot of
posturing. No longer the play’s naïve flirty ingénue, she sinks her teeth into
the character, shooting out witticisms and wise cracks at a rapid-fire place.
Peacock, once a
well-respected operatic singer gets the chance once again to momentarily show
off her still considerably impressive vocal prowess with her rendering of Oscar
Straus’ Tout Paris m’a fait, ce soir, un
accueil plein de gentillesse, sung with a strange mix of levity
and authority.
While the play is still
considered to be quintessentially English, many observers including the great
Simon Fallow, say the inspiration actually came to Coward while visiting and
staying with the actress Laurette Taylor, her husband Hartley Manners and their
children in America.
Callow, writing for The
Guardian in 2006,
points out that their house parties were “notorious for the family’s eccentric
behaviour, for the obscure and outlandish games to which the guests were
subjected, and for the heady atmosphere of flirtation – much of which was
imported wholesale into Hay Fever.”
Whatever the origins, the
play is still loud, outrageous and, because pretentious behaviour never ceases
to be a great subject to ridicule and laugh about, not the least bit dated.
Thanks to Douglas
Paraschuk’s creative set design, it helps validate Coward’s belief that
journeys can be taken by characters without having to frantically change
scenes. The key here is one standout set and the work of a highly skilled cast,
enabled by the sure hand of director Alisa Palmer.
The greatest pleasure
audience members may derive from such a frenetically funny outing is that they,
unlike the Bliss house guests, are not captive prisoners left to their own
devices on how to escape. Laughter reigns supreme here, nabbing a solid four
and half out of ***** stars.
This review also appeared online at Donald's Dish.
This review also appeared online at Donald's Dish.
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