I’m probably prejudiced from the start, gentle reader, but I hereby confess that Sheridan’s School for Scandal is one of my favourite plays of all time. Aged 26, Richard Brinsley Sheridan was already an old hand at writing plays of comic genius when it first appeared at London’s Theatre Royal Drury Lane. Pshaw, there was never any doubt that Drury Lane would host the play – egad, he owned the theatre!
Looking back at the history of theatre, there’s a long drought between the Restoration Comedies of Congreve, Wycherley, Etherege and Vanbrugh, until you reach the gems of Wilde and Shaw at the end of the nineteenth century. Sheridan is really the only feast to be found during that famine, and I unhesitatingly propose The School for Scandal as his best play (yes, even better than The Rivals!) This text has been decently edited to remove a few unnecessary and unwanted characters and given just a tiny hint of updating, nicely in keeping with the original.
Sixty year old Sir Peter Teazle has married – finally, at last – the desirable and irresistible young Lady Teazle. And since then, his life has been nothing but misery. Lady T has got herself involved in a social scene full of meddlers and chattermongers, headed by the catty Lady Sneerwell and boosted by the likes of Crabtree and his odious nephew Sir Benjamin Backbite. There’s nothing they like more than seizing on some tasty morsel of gossip and ensuring that everyone in London knows about it. And if there are no tasty new morsels to share – they’ll just invent something anyway! It’s not hard to see where the gutter press started.
Sir Peter’s old friend Sir Oliver Surface has returned from many years in the East Indies. His two sons, Joseph and Charles, have lived very different lives in his absence; Charles has spent his fortune on wine, women and song and is up to his ears in debt, but Joseph has (ostensibly at least) devoted his life to books and learning, and being a pillar of the community. A man of sentiment, as Sir Peter insists. No one has a word to say against him; but can anyone truly be that good? After a whirlwind of liars revealed, mistresses exposed, and all levels of trickery and deceit practised, can Sir Peter and Lady Teazle’s marriage survive? You’ll have to watch the play to find out. Tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1777!
Except that we’re not, as Seán Aydon’s production takes us to a London somewhere in the 20th century, where the newspapers are distinctly tabloid, the costumes are 1950s and the telephones are 1970s – an excellent device for doing away with minor servant roles, i’faith. The scene is set even before you enter the auditorium, if you care to read the wonderfully created programme which takes the form of an issue of Town and Country Magazine, which – inter alia – includes the revelation of Lady Frizzle’s muffler catching fire, has an advert for Charles Surface’s equestrian breeding business and an exposé on Sir Peter’s domestic arrangements.
It’s an essentially playful production, with the characters of Sneerwell, Joseph, Charles, Snake, Weasel, Careless, Bumper, Backbite, Crabtree and Mrs Candour all portrayed with cartoonish fun. It treads a tricky balance to stay on the correct side of caricature, but, fortunately, it succeeds. On the other hand, Sir Peter and Lady Teazle, as well as Sir Oliver, Maria and Rowley are played straight, which emphasises the genuine disaster that those people could potentially face if they’re caught out in this cut-throat society.
Sarah Beaton’s set design is immensely simple – expensive looking drapes surround a largely bare stage – just a chaise-longue and a couple of stools; a swiftly revealed screen arrives just in time to secrete Lady Teazle in her hour of need, and the closet in which Sir Peter hides is just a bit of curtain. Don’t forget the three vital telephones pitched high on pedestals, which visually stresses the importance of chatter in this play. The costumes are superlative, full of primary colours as though you’d just done a raid at Benetton – but much, much more exclusive, of course. Peter Small’s lighting brightens and fades with the varying fortunes of our protagonists so effectively that I genuinely don’t have a clue what colour those drapes really are.
At the heart of the production is an elegant, understated and authoritative performance by Joseph Marcell as Sir Peter Teazle, very much the still point in the turning world, trying to keep up with all the events unfolding around him. With the rest of the cast doubling up on roles, there are tremendous comic performances from Garmon Rhys as the irrepressible Charles and the frequently hysterical Backbite; and Alex Phelps as the super-sleazy Joseph and the completely-out-of-it Bumper. Lydea Perkins gives us a Lady Teazle who is both refreshingly honest and cynically manipulative; and a very different portrayal as Mrs Candour, bent double with both age and duplicity.
Northamptonshire’s own Emily-Jane McNeill is a strikingly elegant and scheming Lady Sneerwell, and also plays Careless, Charles’ drunken pal, as cheerfully corrupt and yet strangely supportive. Ayesha Griffiths’ Maria is aloof and hard to impress, and also gives a brilliant comic turn as Weasel, a sharp-suited EastEnders geezer. Guy Dennys gives excellent support as the all-purpose factotum Rowley and the Sam Spade-like sneaky investigator Snake. Tony Timberlake’s Crabtree provides an excellent support foil for Mr Rhys’ Backbite, and is excellent as Sir Oliver, the only character who truly goes on a journey of discovery in the play.
Tilted Wig’s production started its tour in March at Keswick’s Theatre by the Lake and has arrived at Northampton ten venues later. Two more venues await – Darlington and Oxford. Heaps of fun, terrific comic performances – and the baddies get their come-uppance! A slick, smart, thoroughly entertaining show, and it’s great to see Sheridan on stage again.
Production photos by Robling Photography
Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!