Tom, Dick and Harry is slick, technically impressive, and packed with enjoyably blithe humour – but one can’t help but feel it’s all been seen before.
Director Theresa Heskins brings to the stage the story of the legendary escape from Stalag Luft III during World War II. In 2018, the Alexandra Palace Theatre reopened after over eighty years, described as ‘preserved in a beautiful state of arrested decay’. The venue’s acoustics and choice of staging in the round, combined with a range of variably iffy accents, often make the dialogue hard to hear, but the cavernous space makes a fitting setting for the production’s ebullient theatrics, including a full-blown cabaret show, gymnastics displays and, of course, the climactic escape itself.
Tom, Dick and Harry are code names for three tunnels dug by the camp captives, and the action centres on the prisoners’ plot to break out of Stalag Luft III, pooling resources and skills to arrive at ingenious solutions to the obstacles in their way. At the same time, the motley crew that make up our cast are preparing to stage the opening night at a new theatre in the camp, set up to provide entertainment for guards and inmates. It is hard to resist being drawn in by their boyish bonhomie, excitable planning, and the warmth and comedy that arises from evading the suspicions of the camp guards, particularly the jubilant singing intended to drown out the sound of digging, using the upcoming theatre performance as cover. They scheme and strategise, stealing wet-behind-the-ears officer Schmidt’s security pass and shirt during a boxing match to make post-escape disguises in an entertainingly Lichtenstein-esque scene, complete with slow motion K-O’s and schlocky sound effects.
Great use is made of props to further the physical comedy, with fun interactive elements thrown in: an audience member apparently whittles a gun out of a wood block in seconds, shavings flying. Tables on wheels combined with a well-polished lighting design (Daniella Beattie) make for rapid-fire scene changes, amping up the pace of the action. The stage direction and choreography is spectacularly executed, with credit to movement director Beverley Norris-Edmunds. Particularly enjoyable is a catwalk display of Czechslovak tailor Janacek (Andrius Gaucas)’s fashioning of civilian clothes for the outside world, the boys prowling and pouting down the stage.
Audience members will be instantly familiar with the production’s humour, borrowed straight from 70’s British comedies such as ‘Allo allo and Fawlty Towers. The boys banter and jape, dress up in drag during the opening night variety performance and play board games at Christmas – in fact, they give the overwhelming, and somewhat odd, impression that everyone seems to be having a jolly good time in the prisoner of war camp. This jarring discordance comes to light most strongly when Dutch escapee Bob narrates the fates of his fellow prisoners near the play’s conclusion – 48 are shot trying to escape, with one being sent to Dachau, a death camp. A voiceover from an interview with a real inmate at Stalag hammers home the incongruous subject matter of such a jokey play. Often the references to Churchill and patriotic music simply all feel too much, a passe display of convivial, blustering jingoism: ‘we certainly gave the Nazis the run around!’, RAF squadron leader Ballard jests good-naturedly.
Indeed, no new light is shed on this wartime drama, such as in the drawing out of previously unheard voices, and there is a lack of nuance most evident in clunky portrayals of national stereotypes. The question is – does this story need to be retold in this way? And why now, when many asylum seekers are being met with increasing hostility and hardening borders? While a fresh perspective is not the intention of the play – it is designed with a specific audience in mind, with whom it will surely be a commercial hit – still it strikes an uncomfortable note, at the same time as there are scores of talented emerging and underfunded theatre makers who will not be granted a fraction of this production’s budget, or a chance to perform in such an iconic venue.
Projected graphics, such as case files of the characters and a large clock, as well as an intense cinematic score, often feel over the top and gimmicky – the play fails where it veers towards the trappings of ever popular, big-budget war films, yet succeeds where it emphasises its theatricality. There is a particularly effective segment set at a train station, for example, in which the escapees evade Nazis and potential spies whose faces are hidden behind layers of black gauze. This has an entirely unnerving effect, our fugitive not knowing who to trust, with the red armbands and leather trench coats evoking a deeply unnatural evil. The section includes a poignant moment when Bob (Michael Hugo) sees his fiancée on the outside, near a safe house only two miles from his hometown. If he calls out to her and makes himself known, and he is subsequently discovered, she would be shot for aiding his escape; he has no choice but to let her pass by. The faceless Nazis move in slow motion through stage smoke and spotlights like demons, far from the previous cartoon-style violence played out using this device.
Tom, Dick and Harry showcases excellent acting, direction and technical skill, and there are many elements of great spirit and warmth – it is only a pity these are not put to use in more forward-thinking storytelling.