As with the stage thriller, the demise of farce has been exaggerated. George Feydeau's idea of a good gag covers the kind of subjects - speech impediments, national stereotypes - we are meant no longer to find funny. But this revival proves that there is life in old-school genre yet.
The setting is Paris, the period turn-of-the-century, the comedy broad.
It stems from Madame Chandebise's mistaken belief that her husband Victor is having an affair.
To catch him red-handed, the innocent is lured to a hotel whose concierge, called Poche, is his physical double. Mayhem ensues. Both roles are superbly played by Tom Hollander who in a blink switches from coarse Poche to urbane Victor.
Richard Eyre's production uses the same John Mortimer translation that featured in two previous Old Vic stagings. The first was in 1966 and to those old enough to have seen it (not me, sadly), it remains one of the funniest nights at the theatre in the modern era. Attitudes have changed however, and this production attempts to rehabilitate farce to a more sophisticated and sceptical audience who demand things like good plot and logic, which is why they loved that other recently revived, and superior French farce, Boeing, Boeing.
Though hampered by nonsensical gags such as a needlessly revolving bed, Eyre finds the moments of (fleeting) comedic ecstasy and directs this door-slamming romp with the skill of a Parisian traffic cop.
Yet, still the challenge to today's generation of comedy writers to create a new farce remains. Any takers?
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