Mike Leigh's acerbic 1977 comedy about the social aspirations and spiritual emptiness of British suburbia gets a first-rate resurrection in this new production, directed by Nadia Fall. The dark parallel between the unseen Abigail and her unbridled teenage revels and the concealed marital tensions and clandestine sexuality that pervade Beverly's pretentious soirée is neatly drawn. The setting is a masterclass in period detail. Peter McKintosh's terrific set, crammed with furnishings and status symbols, creates a claustrophobic world in which every ornament, glass and canapé becomes a badge of social standing. His costumes are equally telling, capturing the fashions and ambitions of a Britain caught between old-fashioned respectability and the new consumer culture. This is Beverly's evening, and Tamzin Outhwaite makes the most of it. She wrings laughs from the most straightforward line, deploying a repertoire of expansive gestures and imperious glances. She dominates the stage in a manner reminiscent of her character's attempt to control and manipulate her guests. Outhwaite finds the insecurity beneath Beverly's brashness, making her both hilarious and increasingly unsettling. It is unfortunate that she is directed at one point to drink spirits directly from the bottle. It feels like facile directorial shorthand for her increasing lack of inhibition, while being false to the character. It distracts from an otherwise finely judged performance. Lauren Patel is excellent as Angela, combining naivety, subservience and unexpected practicality. Kevin Bishop gives a strong performance as Laurence, the harried husband whose growing exasperation provides an effective counterpoint to the party's forced bonhomie. Pandora Colin makes Susan an effective foil to Beverly, conveying the primness, discomfort and quiet resistance of a divorced mother caught between embarrassment and apprehension. Leigh's sharp observation encompasses class and materialism, social pretence and sexual repression, gender roles and the stultifying nature of conventional marriage. Meanwhile the unseen Abigail and her party provide a tantalising counterpoint to Beverly and her guests. The teenager's rebellion and apparent sexual openness stand in contrast to the adults' tightly controlled lives, even as their supposedly sophisticated behaviour becomes increasingly childish. The evening may be fuelled by booze, bravado and bad manners, but beneath the laughter lies something much darker: a society terrified of exposing its own emptiness. Nadia Fall's production captures both sides of Leigh's comedy, making us laugh at these suburban strivers while recognising the loneliness and frustration that drives them. The party begins to have something of the medieval memento mori about it, its abundance shadowed by mortality and decay. Indeed, as the drinks flow and the conviviality curdles, the party becomes less a celebration and more a beautifully observed wake for a world that is dying.
Rated: ★★★★★
Reviewed by J.C.
Photo by Ellie Kurtz
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