Theatre-by-the-Lake, Keswick
Keswick's Theatre-by-the-Lake was awarded a 22% increase in the Arts Council's spending review, yet the opening of the summer season was one of those evenings in which everything that could possibly go wrong did go wrong: lines were fluffed, entrances missed, the set fell apart. In other words, it was quite deliriously perfect.
Michael Frayn's farce was conceived when he viewed one of his earlier comedies from the wings and found it funnier than watching from the auditorium. The central act of Noises Off spins the set around, giving a peek into the theatrical nether-world of black serge, exposed plywood and production staff in headsets engaged in silent crisis management.
If it is sometimes stated that farce presents the flip-side of tragedy, Frayn indicates that the flip-side of farce is a row of fire buckets and neurotic actors nibbling their nails. Yet the play also shows that the veneer of normality is easily breached: it only requires one misplaced plate of sardines to induce system collapse.
The stylish dysfunction of Stefan Escreet's production is akin to Les Dawson's piano playing: it requires genuine skill to imply ineptitude of this order. It's a true ensemble show, which means there are few survivors, but if forced to pick the outstanding dud of the evening it would have to be Peter Macqueen as the veteran lush Selsdon Mowbray, whose erratic hearing and consistent drinking prove to be the company's biggest liability. Ben Ingles also deserves notice for a tumble down a flight of stairs that takes the standard, farcical pratfall to painful extremes, which is Noises Off in a nutshell.