One Man, Two Guvnors
No one could fault the ambition of Sound Ideas Theatre Company. Taking on a production that has been described asthe funniest show on the planet requires brave hearts and mind. Fortunately, judging by the unremitting howls of laughter from the Maddermarket audience on the opening night, it was a worthwhile endeavour.
One Man, Two Guvnors was a cornerstone of the National Theatre’s plan to break away from productions seen as more typical offerings. As radical and audacious as War Horse in its own way, this riotous and very silly show was based on an Italian farce written in the eighteenth century, reimagined for the Sixties by author Richard Bean. Star of the show, which was very much a vehicle for his talents, was James Gordon – bigger shoes to fill it would be hard to imagine. Hats off, then, to Joseph Betts, who did a remarkable job of following in Gordon’s footsteps. Pivotal to almost every scene this was very much his show. As a full figured man, I’m guessing he’s more used to playing character parts, rather than leads, and that this was his unique moment to shine.
He certainly grabbed the opportunity with both hands, presenting a warm and companionable characterisation that immediately won over his audience. Given his notable resemblance to Gordon, it’s understandable that he must have been encouraged to ape Gordon’s manner. While it would have been interesting to see him put more of his own stamp onthe roll, it was something he did very well. Nonetheless, there were glimpses of a different way, when something more akin to Frankie Howard in Up Pompeii came to mind (a show that Roger Bean is heavily indebted to) and it would have been fascinating to see more of this.
While Betts was undoubtedly the star turn, this was by no means a one man show, with the supporting cast presentingsome stand out performances. Emily Sidwell was charmingly and authentically gormless in the role of bride to be, while Zac Sowter had great fun channelling Rik Mayall. Purposely overacting in a play where there is little room for understatement was no mean feat, while his percussive interlude, which needs to be seen rather than explained, deserves a special mention. It was a wonder to behold, and one of the many delightful fillers artfully designed to mark time between scene changes, not least a fine band that entertained without outstaying their welcome. The clear winner, however, when it came to scene stealing, must be Tom Davies. His was the relatively small part of an octogenarian waiter, who popped up sporadically as the plot demanded. His prat falls, comedy walk, and killer one-liners deservedly got the biggest laughs of the night – one can only hope he was landing on sufficiently comfy cushions given the heights from which he fell.
Bean’s play is all about the conventions of theatre, and as such should surely be performed in the declamatory manner the medium requires. Nic Gordon certainly thought so, booming with exuberant buffoonery throughout as the silly ass Stanley Stubbins. There was nothing intrinsically wrong with the quiet menace of James Frayson’s Charlie Clench, but the two styles sat uneasily side by side, something director Dan Smith should have remedied. The key, I think was the regrettable decision to mike up the cast – Gordon demonstrated that they were perfectly capable of projecting to the back of the modest sized Maddermarket. I suspect that if a cast had been encouraged to do so, it would have done much to even up the tone.
It’s a minor quibble, however, and did little to detract from an evening that highlighted the cast and crews commitment to a production that was performed with gusto, staged with invention triumphing over economy, and capped off with a rousing sing-along that radiated the cast’s infectious joy and enthusiasm at performing after such a long time.
