In 2011, One Man, Two Guvnors, Richard Bean’s adaptation of the 1743 Italian farce A Servant of Two Masters by Carlo Goldini opened at the National Theatre to critical acclaim. Now, the comedy finds a revival at Dorchester Amateur Dramatics Society. I went along last night to see if the play lived up to its glowing reputation.
The plot goes something like this: In 1963 Brighton, an out-of-work Skiffle player called Francis (Russell Bailey) hastily takes on two jobs in the hopes of making a quick buck: working as a minder for a small-time gangster, Roscoe Crabbe (Rosemary Mills), and an upper-class eccentric, Stanley Stubbers (Ian Brace).
Roscoe was previously engaged to mob boss Charlie ‘The Duck’ Clench’s (Kate Phillips) daughter Pauline (Christine Jones) but was presumed dead after being stabbed by Stanley. Pauline now only has eyes for aspiring actor Alan (Ryan Fannin), so Roscoe’s return complicates things.
However, Roscoe is actually dead and being impersonated by his twin sister, Rachel, who is the girlfriend of Stanley - who, as it happened, killed Roscoe and is now hiding from the police.
Got all that? Basically, all you need to remember is that Francis must keep his guvnors from finding out about one another. Should be simple but of course, hijinks ensue. More hijinks ensue than in most shows.
This summary makes the storyline seem infinitely more complex than it actually is. There’s a sort of breeze-through quality to the play. Francis’ main concern is just getting a bite to eat, and maybe a date with Clench’s bookkeeper Dolly (Hayley Poole). The plot is basically a set-up that topples a domino of gags, with mixed-up letters, swapped luggage, a ludicrous alter-ego and non-stop physical comedy.
With this in mind, I doubt the structure and much of the plot really needed much updating from Goldoni’s original - a lot of what makes a farce funny is timeless. But what Bean does is put a supremely English spin on things. One scene involving a very elderly waiter with a pacemaker could be straight out of Fawlty Towers. There is an authentic sixties feel to the dialogue - swinging, sleazy gangland shenanigans - which is matched here by the delightful set design (by Ed Metcalfe, who also directed), all kitschy pub signs and poppy Brighton Palace Pier artwork.
The accompanying band, who opened the evening with three songs, plays snippets of sixties music throughout- “Putting on the Style”, “Hard Day’s Night”, etc - between scenes to keep us immersed and entertained. This is made necessary by the play’s long set changes, but it’s such an effective tactic I’d love to see it in more productions. That the vocalist, Sarah Passmore, also had a deep, clear, melodic voice that paired wonderfully with the keyboard and guitar of Ian Salisbury and Steve Eyre also helped.
As the ‘One Man’ himself, Russell Bailey brings an infectious joyousness to the role, which frequently veers between pratfalling buffoonery and a deluded but winning swagger. Francis is a tightrope walk of a character - a character who thinks he’s cleverer than everyone else but whose schemes continually fall flat on their faces. You’ve got to be laughing at him, and simultaneously laughing with him. Thankfully, Bailey succeeds on both fronts.
It’s also a physically demanding part, with long scenes of frantic motion and wordplay, most notably but certainly not limited to the tour de force sequence in which Francis serves dinner to his two guvnors simultaneously, while attempting to steal some for himself - which made laugh as well as gasp aloud.
It’s worth noting as well that because the characters in this are deliberately caricatures - the mobster, the ditsy daughter, the upper-class twit who spouts off an endless stream of unfortunate cultural stereotyping - it doesn’t distract in the slightest that the actors playing them are of different ages or are gender-swapped.
The acting is good across the board, but particular shout-outs go to Kate Phillips, who has great comedic delivery and is hugely watchable as Charlie Clench. Christine Jones is also a riot as the mobster’s airheaded daughter Pauline Clench, a character with the potential to be seriously grating. Jones prevents this, committing enthusiastically, and infuses the right amount of warmth into the character. Ryan Fannin is wonderfully convincing as a brittle and sanctimonious wannabe actor Alan, held together by a mean streak and underwhelming attempts at intimidation (‘I feel violent and unpredictable, like a wasp in a windowsill!’). Fannin doesn’t overplay it, and he makes a great counterbalance to the more over-the-top characters in the play. And finally, Andy Pay brings distinct flavours to four separate small parts, finding the funny in each.
The show is sort of an all-you-can-eat comedy buffet, with slapstick (in one scene, Francis gets into a rapidly escalating fist fight - with himself), rude jokes (‘Harold Dangle, of Dangle, Berry and Bush soliticators’) winking comments (Dolly wagers that ‘in twenty years’ time, there will be a woman in charge at 10 Downing Street, and the voice of feminine compassion will be heard across the country’), and cajoling audience callouts from Francis. While the final scene drags on slightly, this is ultimately a gloriously silly and entertaining evening. Don’t miss out.