Michael Frayn's theatrical wonders

Many of the best playwrights, as many artists dealing with written and spoken word, are teachers at heart. Their urge to explain, clarify and show shines through their work and Michael Frayn is no exception. A brilliant wordsmith he has excelled in all areas of the writing trade: as a journalist he wrote a book that is widely regarded as the best insider’s view of how the old Fleet Street trade worked (Towards the End of the Morning); his column in the Guardian brought him a wide audience; his novels are celebrated for their verbal inventiveness and he has ventured into screenwriting being responsible for one of John Cleese’s best comic perfomances as the time-obsessed headmaster in Clockwise. Add philosopher; art historian and documentary film-maker to the accomplishments and you have the classic ‘Renaissance man’ – in France he would grace the dining tables of Presidents and the ‘belle monde’ – in Britain he is regarded as a ‘clever chap’ in a world of arts and media known for its abundance of cleverness.

Frayn’s play Noises Off is nothing if not ambitious. It has no less than two theatrical conventions at its core: the farce and the ‘play within a play’. Both dramatic themes are intertwined resulting in a torrent of words, hectic action and a lightning delivery as the play proceeds. The play centres on the rehearsal and performances of a theatre company touring the provinces with a farce. The first Act opens on the technical run-through with all the attendant stress of pre-opening nerves and actoral temperaments jangling. The playwright, lyricist and composer Noel Coward once remarked that the secret of successful stage acting was remembering the lines and not bumping into the furniture. This play is based on nobody remembering lines and everybody bumping into the furniture and each other. The first Act has the actors rehearsing their play whilst being directed from the auditorium by a director with a growing sense of despair at the prospect of a first night looming ever closer and barely-suppressed rage mounting. The characterisations are wonderfully drawn by Frayn and captured precisely by a skillful cast. There are the stock-in actoral universal types to be found in both amateur theatrical groups and repertory companies alike: the world-weary sarcastic director, played by Shaun Hennessy; the neurotic Garry, played by Rowan Talbot, who displays an athleticism and physical comedy worthy of a Rowan Atkinson at his most Mr Bean-like; the precious method actor feeling meaning and motivation in every stage direction whilst not being able to cope with life generally; the ‘ever-so-nice’ but intense blondie with her ‘luvvie’ way of calling all and sundry ‘sweetie’, 'darling' and ‘my love’ and trying to stick to her part when all is falling apart; the veteran actor with a drink and hearing problem – played with vigour and enthusiasm by Stuart Organ. One of the best performances is by Kim Ismay who plays the housekeeper in the play within the play as a cross between Maureen Lipman and Su Pollard with her flamingo-like turns and wonderful timing.

The play demands a great deal from its ensemble cast. All the characters have two roles: the part they are playing in the play ‘within’ and the part in the play ‘without’. Act I is the rehearsal process of the play within and Act 2 is set backstage during one of the performances as it tours the provinces. As usual there are sub-plots with members of the cast having affairs with one another. The second Act descends into classic farce – fights between the actors; intermix of ‘onstage’ and ‘off’ and the major ingredient of any farce – trouser-dropping. There is a very clever piece of pure artistry – a whole section of the play conducted in silence with actors conducting complicated stage business whilst trying to get on and off stage. The audience is treated to a reverse view of the action from a backstage perspective.

The Third Act is back on front set during a performance when the whole effort reaches a climax of wrong entrances, mixed-up lines and confused action. The audience has been ‘taught’ the play within as it unfolds and so by the Third Act the hilarity is in the understanding and appreciation of the ‘fluffed’ lines or the missed entrance. There is a very well done ‘sub theme’ running through the play involving sardines which is the device Frayn uses to hang a lot of the physical action. The action between the players and their parts onstage and their lives offstage merge and mingle in a colourful tumult of misunderstanding and mayhem.