No Sex Please We’re British

No Sex Please We’re British
By Anthony Marriott and Alistair Foot. Noarlunga Theatre Company. 25 November - 4 December, 2016

The purpose of farcical comedy is to evoke laughter and Noarlunga Theatre Company’s latest offering does just that. At the helm is first time director Linda Lawson. No stranger to the stage, Lawson does a fine job to keep this fast-paced show rolling along.

The action takes place in the apartment of newlyweds Peter and Frances Hunter, above a branch of the United National Bank in Royal Windsor, England. Frances has sent away for Scandinavian glassware, but instead receives pornographic pictures. What follows is a chain of events that is awkward, embarrassing and a little predictable.

No Sex Please We’re British was written by Anthony Marriott and Alistair Foot in 1971. The delivery and possession of naughty pictures has lost much of its shock value in today’s society, therefore the panic of disposing of such material seems out of place. The humour comes from dated dialogue and slapstick comedy that for this production could have used extra rehearsals.

This production would have fared better with more attention to stagecraft. On the night I attended, crew members walking through a closed set several times before the show started was distracting, as was the noise coming from the back of the theatre for the first ten minutes of act one. The flat at the back of the stairs also needs to be half a metre wider as back stage movement is visible. These may seem like small gripes, but they are easily fixed and in doing so add to the professionalism of the production.

Characterisations are good for the most part, with actors delivering well-rehearsed lines. Bronwyn Calvett (Eleanor Hunter) is excellent as the over-bearing mother in-law. Her understanding of timing is evident. Andrew Smith (Peter Hunter) and Rebekah King (Frances Hunter) are endearing as husband and wife and Stephen Popowski delivers a fine performance as Leslie Bromhead. Max Rayner is maniacal in his turn as Brian Runnicles, his continued mishaps providing much comedy fodder.

Act two continues with deliveries, in the form of two prostitutes (Jessica McGaffin and Kirsty Lawson). New characters can lift a performance and these lovely lasses do just that.

There was no doubt that the audience enjoyed the show I attended, but the dated script and predictable slapstick became tedious.

Kerry Cooper

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