Writer: Ava Pickett
Director: Christopher Haydon
Take tissues to mop the tears of laughter. This show succeeds in spades as long as you take it on its own terms: Ava Pickett’s very funny comedy is loosely based on, or inspired by, an idea by Jane Austen rather than being adapted from her 1815 novel, whatever the programme claims.
Thus, we’re in a gaudy, loud, flashy stereotyped Essex where Emma (Amelia Kenworthy – terrific) has just returned from Oxford. She’s very bright but has failed her history degree because she didn’t bother to turn up for the exams. She keeps this to herself, and situation comedy swirls around because everyone assumes she’s got a First, although no one else in the room has been to university.
All the young people have been to school together, and there’s a lot of shared history and bantering. Emma’s friend Harriet (Sofia Oxenham) works in the local co-op. George Knightley (Kit Young – delightful) is a builder, and the plot is centred around the imminent, vulgar wedding of Isabella Woodhouse (Jessica Brindle – spot on) to John Knightley (Adrian Richards – good fun).
Two hours and thirty-five minutes of misunderstanding and subterfuge follow as self-deluding Emma tries to manipulate everyone with fake news and misguided plans. Eventually, of course, it all comes right, “Anyone would think we were in a period drama”, quips Lucy Benjamin as Mrs Bates, raucously towards the end.
Nigel Lindsay is a joy to watch as Mr Woodhouse. He is one of our most versatile actors, and although he can do serious (The Lehman Trilogy, for example), he really excels at these cor blimey, wheeler-dealer roles. His Mr Woodhouse owns a comfortable home, sounds like an Essex man and is making good money buying and selling dubious goods. Lindsay drops every hilarious line with panache, although there’s a warm and relatively serious scene with Kenworthy in the second half, which is surprisingly moving.
And in Ava Pickett’s crazy take on Emma, widowed Mr Woodhouse has a thing going with garrulous, gravelly Mrs Bates (Lucy Benjamin), who is a beautician. She is brassily coarse, forthright, and her drunk scene is terrific. There are misunderstandings between them, too, as Emma secretly tries to abort the house sale that would enable them to live together.
All the cast of nine do a fine job, although the shape of the Rose makes for some minor audibility problems from the side of the auditorium when an actor is facing away. A particular shout-out, though, for Sofia Oxenham, whose stage debut this show is. Her Harriet is initially gullible, tearful, immature – and she plays it perfectly. Then, eventually, she begins to grow up and takes charge of her own life, and it’s convincing. She, too, delivers the comedy with impeccable timing.
Lily Arnold’s set is a self-parodying homage to the traditional drawing room comedy. We’re in Mr Woodhouse’s main room, at the back of which is a diagonal staircase leading to a first-floor balcony. There are six doors, which means much speedy dashing in and out to further the confusion, as in a Brian Rix farce. It worked then, and it works now in this happy, slick show.
Runs until 11 October 2025:
