Revival of Dario Fo’s classic farce combines zany hilarity with blistering polemic
There seems to be a resurgence of interest in Dario Fo’s work currently, and it couldn’t be better timed. Sheffield Theatres’ production of Accidental Death of an Anarchist is about to open in the West End, and now comes this newly renamed revival of Can’t Pay? Won’t Pay!.
Like Tom Basden, adapter of Sheffield Theatres’ Accidental Death, Marieke Hardy updates Fo’s source material to make this riotous farce about the cost-of-living crisis even more pertinent. Depicting a society in which the powerful avoid tax and raid the state coffers, while ordinary people must choose between paying their gas bills or feeding their families, seems more social realism than satire in 2023. Yet director Bryony Shanahan’s approach is far from po-faced.
Shanahan and Hardy recognise that this is a comedy first and foremost. It barely pauses to draw breath, as it unfolds its story of two housewives who steal food and then try to hide their stash from their husbands in increasingly farcical ways. Samantha Power is delightfully frenetic as Antonia, dashing all over the stage as she attempts to persuade Katherine Pearce’s Margherita to feign pregnancy and hide their booty under her coat.
Anwar Russell gains some of the biggest laughs of the evening playing multiple parts, including a delightfully camp police officer hunting for the stolen goods, while both Roger Morlidge and Gurjeet Singh are hilariously deadpan as the husbands, blissfully unaware of their wives’ antics. All five actors bounce off each other beautifully, displaying immaculate comic timing.
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Much of the delight here lies in the uncertainty of what’s going to happen. It’s a masterclass in carefully controlled chaos, with the second half in particular full of surprises, fourth-wall breaking and audience participation: a lorry crash is staged with audacious ingenuity. Every inch of Cécile Trémolières’ colourful, cleverly designed set is utilised, including a playground slide on which several characters make their entrances.
Among the laughs are some deadly serious points. Speeches deriding political corruption and the failure of the state to look after the most vulnerable win lusty cheers from the audience. Towards the end, Pearce launches into a blisteringly powerful polemic about the state of the nation. You could almost hear a pin drop at its conclusion.
It may be farce and slapstick, but Fo’s work is also a tribute to solidarity and community spirit, and that shines through in Shanahan’s production. It’s both delightfully silly and deadly serious. This is a revival made for repeat visits – and it deserves a life beyond its Manchester run.
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