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FringeReview UK 2024


Low Down

John Willard’s tongue-in-fustian 1922 play, newly adapted by Carl Grose for Told by an Idiot is directed at Chichester’s Minerva Theatre by its founder Paul Hunter till October 26th.

There’s still the shadow of the old chiller around this production, unlike some from this company. But Willard asked not to be taken seriously and he’d not perhaps have baulked at what Hunter and Idiot manage here. An exceptional ensemble delivering a delirious twist on a tale that truly deserves it. Unmissable. 

Till October 26th

Review

The Cat and the Canary was one of my duddest theatrical experiences of recent years. But that was three years ago featuring a miscast star. This is… different. John Willard’s tongue-in-fustian 1922 play, newly adapted by Carl Grose for Told by an Idiot is directed at Chichester’s Minerva Theatre by its founder Paul Hunter till October 26th.

It’s not that Willard was being entirely serious, but even spoof frighteners wear thin after a century and comedy frighteners tread a fine line: films often fare best and this work sparkled, if creakily, on screen. Taking a hint from its familiar silver with Leah Bierman’s projection content blasted against the backwall, Told by an Idiot ramp up absurdities: you might not dream of sausages in the same way again.

If you don’t know the company, you might think of Patrick Barlow’s The 39 Steps, though here crossed with Simon McBurney’s Complicité, recently at the National with Mnemonic.  There are Barlow parallels: for instance Natasha Pawluk’s wigs get a separate workout as the multi-roling star of this production, Nick Haverson flicks one back and forth over his head as he shuttles between lawyer Crosby and asylum keeper Hendricks, not to mention later on dodgy doctor Patterson or PC Dougie McDougal.  Or careers up to play the drumkit up in an alcove stage-right, or slithers down a fire-station-like pole.  Long-standing ‘Idiots’ as ever mix with new cast-members.

The plot is rinsed through faithfully till towards the end. Haverson’s Crosby has summoned relatives to eccentrically brilliant Cyrus West’s house, almost lovingly mothballed by housekeeper Mrs Pleasant (Hayley Carmichael, a founder actor, eerily gliding) and Dora (Heather Lai, with a knack of apparating) silent since West died 20 years ago. But he’s left a film of himself naming his heir, and a second reel naming a second if the first dies or proves insane. Bierman’s silvery projection fills the backstage.

Asylum-managing Henderson phones Crosby to announce a cat-identifying lunatic is on the loose (occasioning the wig-dance). Mrs Pleasant warns favourite Annabelle West of Cyrus West’s analogy of the cat scaring the canary to death though never touching it in its cage. He wrote books on Fear; Annabelle riffles one. It doesn’t help.

Annabelle (a wildly active Lucy McCormick) is swiftly named, but where does that leave her distant relatives, two at least proving former lovers? East End Boxer Harry Blythe (Tarinn Callender, burling and burnished) who loathes urbane West End and Broadway (which?) actor Charlie Wilder (Will Merrick, who never overplays a part begging to be hammed). This being a fourth-wall theatre Merrick gets many of the sprinkled ad-libs. “Aren’t you frightened of a big empty house?” ‘No, I’ve played Theatre Royal Windsor.” At the interval indeed cast members enjoin us not to think we can escape in Audi Quattros and don’t even think of the bar. That doesn’t tackle an incident with … sausages.

There’s fun with Surinda Ghosh aka Susan Sillsby (Lean Kaur) a princess of eternally-raised eyebrows, and her companion Cicely Young (Nikhita Lesler), eternally puzzled. Beyond there’s low-achieving vet Paul Jones (Calum Finlay, raising cheery underachiever to a bright question-mark) with a nice line in horse syringes, since you never know when you’ll need one.

Happily, not just the professions of most are changed. The plot, unlike the Barlow, veers you might say, west. It’s not to be guessed from the films.

Set in the period, Angela Davies’ set opts for the Minerva’s circularity and constructs a huge curved bookcase which naturally parts and is tall enough for cast members to pop up on top. Props like drinks cabinets (Macallan single malt only) and green detachable doors are worked as much as Davies’ costume-changes. Aideen Malone’s lighting spooks the space neatly, as does Adrienne Quartley’s sound. Ian Ross invokes Ernest Toch’s superb original score (given the composer, more distinguished than many) but in a neatly pointillistic piece, light on its feet, or drumsticks.

There’s still the shadow of the old chiller around this production, unlike some from this company. But Willard asked not to be taken seriously and he’d not perhaps have baulked at what Hunter and Idiot manage here. An exceptional ensemble delivering a delirious twist on a tale that truly deserves it. Unmissable.

 

 

Adaptor Carol Gorse, Writer John Willard, Director Paul Hunter, Set and Costume Designer Angela Davies, Lighting Designer Aideen Malone, Composer Ian Ross, Sound Designer Adrienne Quartley, Projection Content Designer Leah Bierman, Puppet Designer Lyndie Wright, Puppetry Consultant Rachel Leonard, Casting Director Matilda James CDG

Assistant Director Xinxi Du, Production Manager Mark Carey, Costume Supervisor Rosie Emmerich, Wigs, Hair  Make-Up Supervisor Natasha Pawluk, Props Supervisor Katie Balmforth

Company Stage Manager Julian Johnson, Deputy Stage Manager Grace Hans, Assistant Stage Manager Daisy Vahey

Published