After a delayed start thanks to some typical District line malarkey, Peter Shaffer’s Black Comedy got off to an explosive start. We first meet our cast when a fuse blows in the apartment of sculptor Brindsley Miller, played by Joe Bannister, who is frantically preparing to meet the father of his fiancé Carol Melkett, played by Leah Haile, and Jason Barnett plays the Colonel Melkett. Also invited to the evening is Georg Bamberger, played by Javier Marzan, a German man who happens to hold the title of being the wealthiest man in the world.
In an attempt to impress both the Colonel and Georg, Brin ‘borrows’ some furniture from his well-to-do neighbour, Harold, played by the glorious Simon Manyonda, who Brin believes is away for the weekend. The blackout also compels Brin’s neighbour Miss Furnival, played by Julia Hills, to come knocking; a teetotaller who is scared of the dark. When Harold shows up unexpectedly, Brin and Carol are sent into a spin over his furniture, plotting a plan to return it before Harold notices; exacerbated further when Clea, played by Patricia Allison, Brin’s lover of four years, makes her quiet return.
The use of reverse lighting to convey the blackout is brilliantly clever. The show begins in total darkness, which we are warned about, but just a minute in, the fuse blows and our characters are catapulted into the blackout – but for us, the stage lights return and we finally see the set before us: an apartment furnished with a chaise longue, a Buddha statue, and other antiques indicative of someone with a certain cultural taste – not a penniless artist like Brin.
The play remains a complete blackout for our characters – save for a couple of lighters here and there – and we meet them only in this state of complete darkness, navigating differing dynamics, personalities and truths over the course of 75 minutes. The chaos that ensues will leave your jaw sore – every little and large movement feels intentionally funny, and the expression of physical comedy that this eight-person cast possess would put hot competition for Laurel and Hardy, were they still alive and performing today.
Having had various runs on the West End and Broadway, you can see why people keep coming back to this play. The writing is smart – it almost fools you into thinking it mediocre due to how captivated you are by the expression of movement and physical comedy on stage. This is a classic comedy of errors, where the characters fumble around Brin’s blackout living room, mixing up the touch of each other’s hand, a lemon bitter from a gin, and a back for a rocking chair.
This type of theatre enables the cast the absolute freedom to portray over the top and exaggerated emotions, sustain a pace that is both stable and utterly fretful, and express slapstick humour, which this cast absolutely deliver on. It is a beautiful bundle of fantastical, hilarious chaos. This cast is strong – there isn’t a single person lacking.
The entire cast truly understand the assignment at hand, but a notable mention must go to Joe Bannister as the hopeless but loveable Brin. As Carol’s fiancée, Clea’s lover, Harold and Furnival’s unassuming neighbour and the Colonel’s unimpressive possible son-in-law, Brin is just trying to make it through the evening without anything going wrong. But where would the fun be in that?
I have never laughed so hard at a man simply trying to move some damn furniture – and I’ve watched that episode of Friends multiple times. His tactile movements touch every character – whether intended or not – and leave you feeling tickled. I must also note the short but sweet appearance of Chris Chilton as Schuppanzigh the electrician, and Javier Marzan as Bamberger. Sometimes, even the smallest roles can land the biggest laughs.
With the ample time I had before the play began – thanks again, District line, I read the programme in full rather than my usual routine of skim reading it before re-reading it afterwards. Daniel Rosenthal writes how the press night on July 27th, 1965 had a gentleman in the audience with a head shaped like an “enormous boiled egg”, who at first seemed neutral towards the play, but then began to laugh so hard that he fell out of his chair and crawled around helplessly.
Whether this is wholly accurate is yet to be contested, but I think this brilliantly sums up the sentiment of this play. It had me laughing and shoulder shaking with every other line and every movement in between. You can look at any one of the cast at a time and you’ll find something to laugh or smile about.
What an excellent production, guided by director Caroline Steinbeis. Hats off to the cast for bringing this performance to life in the most electric and hilarious manner, and to the crew for supporting the livelihood of this production. If you think you’ve seen comedy, think again, and go and watch Black Comedy.
Listings and ticket information can be found here
