Theatre
Rookery Nook (Shaftesbury)
The Maintenance Man (Comedy)
Marriage lines
Christopher Edwards
Rookery Nook, which was written in 1926, is the most characteristic as well as the most celebrated of Ben Travers's farces. It makes the ideal revival with which to celebrate the centenary of his birth. As in most of Travers's classic pieces the bedroom is always close at hand although this playwright would never actually lead us in there, at least not during the time when he was at the height of his popularity. Ten or so years ago it was suddenly remembered that Ben Travers was still alive and writing and what he produced then, at the age of 89, was yet another, rather more explicit, farce called The Bed Before Yesterday. Of course explicitness was not necessary, during the Twenties and Thirties, in order for Travers to have fun at the expense of the taboos and prejudices of his own time.
The farcical business of a Travers play usually arises from the desperate efforts of sensual but innocent youth to elude its pursuers — an assorted tribe of meddlers and local gossips led, more often than not, by a tough and puritanical female. Adul- tery is inevitably suspected but never, ever, committed. Instead a sort of playful sexual licence is ultimately endorsed by Travers — of the kind perfectly captured by the credo of one of his typical unmarried sports: 'Any man who is a man ought to want to take every pretty girl he sees to Brighton.' The repressive pursuers are invariably seen off and their suspicions of immorality disproved — but a trip to the seaside remains distinctly on the cards.
The plot of Rookery Nook sticks pretty closely to this formula. Gerald Popkiss (Tom Courteney), newly married and new- ly arrived at Rookery Nook in Chumpton- on-Sea, Somerset, faces a dilemma as soon as he steps through the door. The dilemma takes the form of a young, pretty girl in pink silk pyjamas, Rhoda Marley, who has been thrown out of home by Putz, her wicked Prussian stepfather. Gerald is joined by his roguish cousin Clive (Ian Ogilvy) and the race to conceal Rhoda is on. Disapproval and suspicion appear in the form of Gertrude (Nichola McAuliffe) but she is only the tip of an iceberg whose broad base is represented by Peggy Mount's massive charlady, Mrs Leverett.
How funny is the production? Early in its run it appears only quite amusing but you sense that the talented cast could soon shift up several gears once they have felt their way into the performance. Both Tom Courteney and Ian Ogilvy are still too restrained, almost bland. Lionel Jeffries's Putz, with his leather boots, whip and bald head, should be a foaming Dobermans of a Prussian; at the moment he is just a yapping dachshund. Most of the laughter is generated by a combination of ' Peggy Mount playing variations on a Gorgon theme and Derek Smith as the hen-pecked, boater-nibbling husband, Harold. At the moment, therefore, this production quali- fies as a promisingly comic period piece: If it gets into stride, however, it could take off into something hilarious.
Richard Harris's new play, The Mainte- nance Man, is about the marital difficulties of its hero, Bob, played by John Alderton. The playwright's previous, successful, pieces for the theatre include Outside Edge and Stepping Out but it is hard to see how this insubstantial work found its way into the West End.
Bob is a selfish, hypochondriacal, bick- ering and sentimental scriptwriter for tele- vision. He leaves his wife, Christine (Gwen `It's a pity they can't develop a bomb that only blows up world leaders.' Taylor), for a divorcee called Diana (Susan Penhaligon): Bob has a passion for DIY and indeed he seduces his women by first making himself useful about their homes. Not for him the champagne supper by candlelight. His weapons are the portable Black & Decker and the handy Philips screwdriver. Despite the equipment, how- ever, his shelves do not always stay in place; nor do his relationships.
If we were to be very charitable we might describe this as a caustic little com- edy about the collapse of a marriage. But we do not feel charitable; it was a dull evening at the theatre which failed to stir, shake or even faintly to amuse.
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