This farce-within-a-farce pays homage to the theatre with riotous caricature, expert slapstick and witty wordplay
As I arrived at the Oxford Playhouse, there were at least six coach loads of theatre-goers pouring into the auditorium. Much like the show we were all about to see, this felt like a comic trope in itself. Michael Frayn’s Noises Off is often deemed the quintessential British farce and has been summoning loyal audiences since its premiere in the 1980s. I first saw it — and loved it — as a young teen and was intrigued to view it from an older perspective. Plus, I’d never say no to a night of guaranteed laughter.
The play-within-a-play format is undeniably genius. Across the three acts, we are voyeurs to the chaotic demise of this regional theatre company’s production of Nothing On from both the front and backstage views, courtesy of Simon Higlett’s revolving set design. We get well-acquainted with their play, watching a worryingly under rehearsed dress run in Act One to the shambolic and weary end-of-tour performance by Act Three. Sandwiched between these is the phenomenally slick Act Two, 25 minutes of non-stop slapstick action that at times felt like a silent film — the actors must of course be “Quiet backstage!” and mime their way through their frustrations. It’s enormously fun to anticipate the script they’ll be performing, and even more so when props aren’t where they should be, door handles fall off, injuries lead to more injuries and the script descends to nonsensical ad-lib.
It was clear the actors were thoroughly enjoying themselves. How could you not? The very notion of acting ‘bad acting’ is a trope that lands time and time again, whether it’s a character sticking vehemently to their own lines, questioning the director at every stage possible, or a general vein of either melodrama or lacklustre when performing. Everyone did a stellar job in their roles, keeping a tight grip on the pace of the show. Dan Fredenburgh shone as Garry Lejeune for his Basil Fawlty-like physicality, jumping around the stage with tied shoelaces or sliding headfirst down the stairs. Lucy Robinson as Belinda Blair was fantastic as a friends-to-all seasoned actress, performing hilarious exhalations and cover-ups to mark time on an empty stage. Lisa Ambalavanar was a stand-out as Brooke Ashton, playing wooden acting incredibly well. Huge praise to director Linsday Posner, whose outstanding choreography appeared to flow with complete, chaotic spontaneity.
Noises Off is certainly anachronistic, with many of the joke lines rooted in outdated notions of a young woman running around in her underwear, hierarchical sexual relations between the director and cast, and cringe-inducing Middle Eastern disguises. The older audience members laughed consistently, which was to be expected: I don’t think cult classics are ever really unpacked by their fanbase. I feel it has its place in contemporary theatre as a 1980s period piece. The set is dated to that of a twee sitcom: a tangled telephone wire caused a trip hazard, while a burglar confused the television with a microwave oven — indicative of the clunky aesthetic similarities between appliances of this era.
Michael Frayn’s wordplay is fantastic and some of the witticisms do get lost to the clumsy trips and trousers falling down. Perhaps this is unavoidable in such a larger-than-life piece that commands your attention at numerous points across the stage. But whether you’re laughing at the words or the gags, to be consistently laughing is a joyful thing.