Three Farces

With more than 125 plays and farces to his credit, John Maddison Morton was the Victorian theatre’s answer to Ayckbourn. He is now largely forgotten, save for Box and Cox, but his bicentenary is celebrated with this strongly-cast revival of three of his more successful short comedies, only one of which truly counts as farce.

The winning tone of Henry Bell’s staging is but a short step from knowingness, as Daniel Cheyne’s singing compere first introduces the cast, then milks the applause between each playlet, while telling the audience what a good time they’re having.

As the opener, Slasher and Crasher is a skillfully-choreographed, knockabout melodrama in which two craven suitors must prove to Clive Francis, who plays the girls’ bellicose uncle, that they are not really cowards. It also springs a startling moment of design trickery.

But another coup comes with the unexpected entry of Edward Bennett as a dragoon lieutenant, scarlet-clad with all the trimmings, an eye-catching costume that could sideline many an actor. Instead, he gives an outstanding portrayal of military good manners, totally true to period and personality.

After the first interval, Bennett and Francis again shine in an anarchic comedy of menace, A Most Unwarrantable Intrusion, which as a pre-echo of the early work of Pinter reveals Morton as a master of stagecraft.

But farce does finally arrive with Grimshaw, Bagshaw and Bradshaw, set in an overpopulated bedroom, complete with slamming doors. It also offers four fine comedy performances from Stuart Fox, David Oakes, Natalie Ogle and Jennifer Higham who – for reasons impossible to explain – are pursued by Francis, now playing a sly broker’s man, hilariously muddling their names and reputations, while Bennett makes another surprise entrance, this time as a towering, strong-arm debt collector. Bravo!