February 11, 2009
An entertaining if undemanding 1965 vintage comedy from Peter Shaffer, nicely produced and pleasingly acted. The gimmick of the play is that the characters, supposedly plunged into darkness by a mains fuse blow-out, can’t see one another, though the audience, thanks to the miracle of electricity, can see them just fine as they grope about enhancing their misunderstandings.
Brindsley Miller is a sculptor who has invited Mr Bamberger, a German millionaire, around to this flat to see his work. If the art-loving Mr B buys some, he is set for life. Brindsley's fiancée Carol has persuaded him to replace his own sorry studenty furniture with the carefully collected antiques of his fastidious neighbour Harold Gorringe, who is supposedly away for the weekend. Carol has also invited her retired military father over for the evening. He doesn’t like Brindsley.
When the lights go out, a terrified spinsterly neighbour calls on Brindsley for comfort. Then Harold returns unexpectedly, and Brindsley’s agenda switches from getting the lights fixed to increasingly desperate attempts to stop anyone even lighting a match, so that Harold won’t recognise his own purloined furniture before Brindsley has a chance to return it all to his flat – with predictably entertaining results. Not only is Carol in love with Brindsley, but it appears he’s on Harold’s wish list as well; matters are further delightfully complicated when his ex, Clea, turns up, a bewitchingly beautiful trouble-maker who proceeds to make trouble. The electrician arrives. He is German. Everyone thinks he is Bamberger. Bamberger arrives, and wanders off again. Brindsley’s sculpture is dismantled by Carols’ irate father and Harold in order to make weapons with which to wallop Brindsley. Mayhem ensues.
I’m telling you all this because you won’t be able to get tickets, as the entire run is sold out. That’s a pity, because last night’s audience laughed their socks off, and you probably would have as well, besides appreciating some very engaging performances. Ah well. Next time.
Brindsley Miller is a sculptor who has invited Mr Bamberger, a German millionaire, around to this flat to see his work. If the art-loving Mr B buys some, he is set for life. Brindsley's fiancée Carol has persuaded him to replace his own sorry studenty furniture with the carefully collected antiques of his fastidious neighbour Harold Gorringe, who is supposedly away for the weekend. Carol has also invited her retired military father over for the evening. He doesn’t like Brindsley.
When the lights go out, a terrified spinsterly neighbour calls on Brindsley for comfort. Then Harold returns unexpectedly, and Brindsley’s agenda switches from getting the lights fixed to increasingly desperate attempts to stop anyone even lighting a match, so that Harold won’t recognise his own purloined furniture before Brindsley has a chance to return it all to his flat – with predictably entertaining results. Not only is Carol in love with Brindsley, but it appears he’s on Harold’s wish list as well; matters are further delightfully complicated when his ex, Clea, turns up, a bewitchingly beautiful trouble-maker who proceeds to make trouble. The electrician arrives. He is German. Everyone thinks he is Bamberger. Bamberger arrives, and wanders off again. Brindsley’s sculpture is dismantled by Carols’ irate father and Harold in order to make weapons with which to wallop Brindsley. Mayhem ensues.
I’m telling you all this because you won’t be able to get tickets, as the entire run is sold out. That’s a pity, because last night’s audience laughed their socks off, and you probably would have as well, besides appreciating some very engaging performances. Ah well. Next time.