Howard Davies’ scatty, bohemian set much reflects the demeanor of Noel Coward’s monstrously melodramatic Bliss family, the unit at the centre of this 1924 script. Lindsay Duncan dominates as Judith Bliss, the matriarch, an actress past her prime with a voice so chocolatey you want to eat it; whilst Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Freddie Fox bulldoze the stage as the intermittently languishing and impassioned siblings Simon and Sorel.
The play revolves around an unintentionally overcrowded evening in the family’s country home. Pinter pauses and squirming expressions abound, the effect is much one of that slightly sadistic glow you get when you gleefully observe someone trapped in a corner with ‘that guest’ at a party, think Abigail’s party with quadruple the Beverlys. Despite its 88 year old script, the production avoids feeling dated, partly because neither Sorel or Simon would look too out of place if they decided to bust over to Shoreditch mid-performance. Most compelling though is Davies’ marvellous awareness of the thin line between humour and desperation, one which he uses to bring out the excruciatingly painful atmosphere of this evening from hell wherein every one of the Bliss’ guests finds themselves amorously propositioned by one or another of their hyped up, histrionic hosts. Refreshingly unlike many of its contemporaries, the performance gets the laughs without once relying on pantomimesque winks at the audience. A refreshingly relevant revival. Get on it. 4/5
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