ajhlovestheatre

BEDROOM FARCE 

by Alan Ayckbourn

directed by Robin Herford

The Mill at Sonning, Sonning Eye near Reading – until 21 September 2024

https://millatsonning.com/shows/bedroom-farce/

In a typical Ayckbourn-esque quirk, Bedroom Farce, despite its title, is barely a farce at all. First presented in London at the National in the 1970s, before successful West End and Broadway transfers, and last seen in a high profile 2002 revival at the Aldwych with June Whitfield and Richard Briers, it’s a dated but ruthlessly well observed comedy of middle class manners, misery and miscommunication. Set in a trio of bedrooms across one fraught night, it’s nearer to old school sitcom than high precision farce but it bears the hallmarks of Alan Ayckbourn at the height of his powers: sublimely subtle setting up of characters, their neuroses and personal histories, and a borderline cruel yet non-judgemental invitation to laugh at their despair. These people are only a couple of punchlines, or possibly physical punches, away from suburban Strindberg.

Director Robin Herford, previously a stalwart of the repertory company at the Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough where most of Ayckbourn’s output premiered before transferring to London (usually with TV names in the leading roles) knows exactly how to make this material tick. Whether or not it’s amusing to modern audiences accustomed to more edgy and snarky comedy is questionable though. 

Ayckbourn’s humour is rooted in the foibles and insecurities of his carefully drawn characters, so we get imperious Delia (Julia Hills) referring to sex as “S-E-X” and viewing it as an unpleasant inconvenience when counselling her clearly distraught daughter-in-law (Allie Croker’s over-emphatic but sympathetic Susannah). Then there’s uptight Ernest (Stuart Fox, lovely), Delia’s husband, unwilling to talk about anything as messy as feelings but obsessed with household damp and preferring to hole himself up in the bathroom reading ‘Tom Brown’s Schooldays’ rather than deal with family disaster. Probably worst of all is selfish man-child Trevor -also Ernest and Delia’s son, go figure- casually wreaking emotional and domestic havoc across at least two households simultaneously yet without one iota of self-awareness or empathy. Ben Porter plays him as a whiny yet strangely appealing faded rocker who can’t be alone while unable to connect with other humans.

Herford wisely chooses not to update the piece, presenting it in all its naff ‘70s glory complete with rotary dial telephones, horrific wall paper, sideburns for the men and dodgy eye make up for some of the women. Crucially though, neither he nor his designers Michael Holt (set) and Natalie Tichener (costumes) are sending up the period, instead presenting a flawless snapshot of ordinary lives in disarray. Is it funny? I laughed a lot – there’s usually something innately hilarious about watching the implosion of carefully constructed lives – but it’s probably not for everyone.

It’s very well acted, each member of the eight strong cast going for the truth in the dialogue rather than playing the obvious comedy. Hills is particularly magnificent, investing elderly Delia with that permanent expression of vague alarm one often sees in the faces of posh English women of a certain age, and delivering lines like “I feel as though I’m sleeping on a herring trawler” (after enjoying pilchards in bed) with a crisp relish. Fox stays just the right side of bluster and bumble opposite her. 

Antony Eden and Rhiannon Handy are likeable as the couple whose loved-up union starts to collapse as the long night drags on, and Georgia Burnell convinces as the human catalyst that almost destroys Trevor and Susannah’s already shaky relationship. As her partner, incapacitated by a bad back, Damien Matthews spends the entire performance in a prone position but does so with impeccable comic timing.

Watching Bedroom Farce in 2024, it’s perhaps hard to imagine that this sort of play was a guaranteed smash hit on the Shaftesbury Avenue of half a century ago. The craft of the comic writing and manipulation of characters and situations remain exemplary however, and this sharply paced revival in the Mill at Sonning’s intimate, atmospheric auditorium is about as good as it gets.