Tons of Money

Looking for light, bright, somewhat off-the-wall entertainment, some silliness in the lead-up to the silly season. If you’re in Sydney, The Guild Theatre in Rockdale has just the ticket.

The 1922 West End hit Tons of Money, which ran for over 700 performances, kicked off the famous decade-long series of a dozen Aldwych farces. Those farces were played by a cast of outstanding farce actors of the day, around whose specific talents the hit series was written. These farces also provided the basis for several of Britain’s earliest silver screen comedies, featuring many of their original stage cast members.

Alan Ayckbourn’s revised and updated 1986 version of the play pumps along at a snappy, fun pace throughout the current Guild production. While the story remains much the same as the somewhat tired version of the original which I saw back in the 1970s; the comedy has been freshened up, and I may be wrong, but to me there was also an air of affectionate send-up of a once-beloved theatre institution, reminiscent of Sandy Wilson’s homage to 1920s British musicals, The Boyfriend.

You can read what Alan Ayckbourn had to say about this re-write himself online, so I won’t go further into it than to share the link.

http://tonsofmoney.alanayckbourn.net/styled-5/

At Rockdale the lights go up on a picture-perfect period set, with French doors opening onto an attractive country estate vista. Director Robert Mason’s design also serves the play’s action splendidly. Just one door in addition to the French windows may seem a little short of the genre standard, but they are all that this script dictates, and serve up some splendidly realized moments of farce, including exits, exits and chases.

Inventor Aubrey, over his head in debt, receives word of a substantial inheritance from a relative in Mexico, but realizes that as matters stand, his debtors will get all of the cash. Together with wife Louise he devises a scheme to fake his own death, then return as his cousin George, but what happens when not one, not two, but three preposterously disguised cousin Georges arrive on the scene, and Louise’s ditzy blonde friend Jean goes on a kissing spree, believing each in turn is her long-lost husband.

Mark Stokes’ Aubrey is a typically solid, charming leading man, before landing the comedy of a surprise flying visit and two absurd attempts at disguise. Koren Chambers plays his stylish, vivacious wife Louise with immaculate timing, cheekiness and physicality.

Graham Egan’s knowing, self-important Sprules is the pitch-perfect theatrical butler stereotype, while his exits make for delicious door acting. Character and style wise, Margaret Short’s housemaid Simpson is a great pairing for Egan, both a bit pompous, so I think we all loved seeing them make fools of themselves with the OTT signaling involved in their act 2 subplot.

Just which of the multiple matching cousins was Jean’s long-lost husband never fooled the audience. Two deliberately atrocious stage beards were as obviously fake as the two pretenders, yet as is vital in farce acting, Maria Micallef maintained her zany role with total belief throughout her kiss-fest.

Haki Pepo Olu Crisden as the gardener Giles absolutely nails a series of one-word gags with marvelous deadpan delivery. Val Farrow’s Miss Mullet delights, looking on at the mayhem and commenting knowingly.

A couple of treats for me from Luke Leeroy Brown and Jeff Mabey as fake and real cousins were their clowning in a fight behind the sofa, and a moment reminiscent of the classic Marx Brothers mirror scene.

Ashkar Bharde handled the play’s straightest character, the lawyer Chesterman, most capably, delivering news key to the convoluted plot with great clarity.

This talented cast, and director Robert Mason, upheld the key rule for acting in farce; no matter how insane the situation may seem, maintain absolute belief in your character.

Adding the precise timing of doors, windows, exits, entrances and other visuals, ensures that this production of Alan Ayckbourn’s revitalized take on classic light British theatre is a fun, couple of hours, providing a glimpse back 100 years to an almost forgotten era of popular escapist entertainment.

Neil Litchfield

Images: Grant Leslie Photography