The Explorers Club

Ironic? Well yes - despite the obvious devotion to the Queen, this is, after all, an exclusively male domain.

Designer Greg Kenyon’s set is a beauty, creating an ambient, enticing room from the moment we walk into the theatre. Dawn Pointon’s costume co-ordination provides the final visual icing on the production.

Bursting into a meeting in this all-male stronghold comes distinguished female explorer Phyllida Spotte-Hume (Koren Chambers), who has been proposed for membership by acting president, the meek, geeky, infatuated botanist Lucius Fretway (TJ Ross), setting a cat amongst the pigeons. So, the underlying theme is there, though explored mostly through farcical romping, with just the odd didactic glimpses.

Koren Chambers’ vivacious confident Phyllida sparkles and shines amidst of this somewhat crusty enclave. Her performance is an absolute treat from start to finish.

Misogynistic, pompous and spouting a peculiar mix of religion and science, Kevin Tanner’s dour, stodgy Professor Sloane is the strongest dissenting voice against Phyllida’s candidacy. Chad Smith as Professor Walling, holding his Guinea Pig Jane, and Barry McMaster’s Professor Cope, a cobra named Rosie draped around his neck, create a delightful pair of eccentric science nerd pals.

Simon Pearce’s dodgy, dashing Harry Percy swans in direct from exploring the East Pole, all ego and swagger, in an engaging Indianna Jones-ish parody, in contrast to mostly stodgier den of male scientists.

Luke Leeroy Brown’s Luigi brings a whole new meaning to going blue in the face as the NaKong tribesman whom Phyllida has brought back to London from her latest expedition, having discovered the Lost City of Pahatlabong. His physical and facial comedy, and his attempts to communicate, are comic highlights throughout, reaching their peak when he becomes the club’s barman.

We don’t head off to the palace with Phyllida and Luigi, Professor Walling, Jane, Professor Cope, and Rosie, to meet Queen Victoria, being left to imagine the farcical scenes there, but the ensuing disaster brings Sir Bernard Humphries, the Queen’s private secretary, played with frequently bemused pomposity by Brian McGann, to the stage. He has the club surrounded by Royal guards and is threatening the destruction of Pahatlabong.

Scott Brawley adds two deliciously crazy cameos, a frenzied, fanatical Irish assassin, and a former explorer turned oriental monk, Beebe.

While Phyllida is off saving the day in Pahatlabong, Koren Chambers chimes in doing double duty as Phyllida’s posh sister, in a splendidly contrasting performance.

During intermission in the foyer, a friend described this crazy farce as Pythonesque, and it’s an apt description of both play and production. Director Tim Dennis tells me that the actual script is a rather thin one (though it’s certainly laugh-a-minute – at the least). He and his cast, though, expand it with terrific, inventive physical comedy and vaudeville sequences. The tricky timing required for some visual gags has clearly been rehearsed to lands with split second perfection.

Concern about spoilers inclines me to leave things there.

In a delightful climax, Phyllida’s triumphant return, having slyly averted an international crisis, embodied by Koren Chambers’ performance, well and truly delivers this play’s true Indianna, upending the club’s stereotypes.

I hope you enjoy this lighthearted, laugh-out-loud romp, and its satirical bite, as much as I did.

A visit to the Guild is a wonderful, welcoming experience, including the intermission refreshments included in the ticket price.

Neil Litchfield

Photographs courtesy of Grant Leslie Photography