Rob Brydon, making his West End debut, is tremendous in this revival of Alan Ayckbourn’s Eighties comedy. He gives a beautifully judged performance as the overbearing yet insecure director of a provincial “light operatic society”.
The play opens as the last night of the society’s take on The Beggar’s Opera is drawing to a close. Despite being a success, their account of John Gay’s gritty satire seems to have provoked a lot of ill feeling, and over the course of the play we move back in time and come to understand exactly why.
The pivotal figure is Nigel Harman’s Guy Jones. A naïve widower with a tendency to hop around awkwardly, he has stumbled into the apparently poisonous world of am-dram. At first he is awarded a small part by local solicitor and theatrical bigwig Dafydd (Brydon). But as others falter Guy rises. He also becomes entangled in the affairs — both romantic and commercial — of several members of the cast. The results are at best delightful. While Brydon combines fine comic timing with a sure sense of Dafydd’s vulnerabilities, Harman conveys Guy’s development from a haplessly timid newcomer into a leading man who proves capable of causing mayhem.
Daisy Beaumont impresses as a fierce seductress, and Ashley Jensen as Dafydd’s wife is her exact opposite, a woman who has been taught to think she is not attractive yet discovers that she can be. There’s neat support from Georgia Brown, Rob Compton and Paul Thornley, as well as an excellent design by Robert Jones.
Still, this isn’t quite the riotous comedy that’s advertised. Instead it is a nicely observed picture of the frustrations of a mostly dowdy kind of Eighties middle-class existence. There are moments that feel bleak and toe-curling. That’s as it should be, but at times a certain zip and energy are missing.
Trevor Nunn’s production needs to become more taut and vigorous. That’s likely to happen as the run continues. As it is, A Chorus of Disapproval feels like a less artful, less uproarious version of Michael Frayn’s classic Noises Off. It’s safe and solid; the laughs don’t flow as freely as they could.
Until January 5
