These days better known as a classic example of early 70s’ sitcom, Rising Damp, returns to the stage more than forty years since it first premiered under its original title, The Banana Box. Leo Owen expects to be underwhelmed by the Bradford leg of Classic Comedy Productions’ UK tour and is pleasantly surprised
Judy Reaves’ slightly claustrophobic stage design immediately transports us into the roof of Rigsby’s iconic building, showing a cross-section of a bedroom and a living room come kitchen with a cartoony city skyline as its backdrop. The Kinks’ You Really Got Me Going makes up the soundtrack, placing the show in its time, alongside the 70s’ gear cast members wear.
In this setting, Rigsby (Stephen Chapman) shows medical student, Alan (Paul Morse), around a room he expects to exclusively call his own, only to be told he’ll have to share. His roommate, Philip (Cornelius Macarthy), has also paid for a private room but like Alan is remarkably accommodating. Completing the cast is Miss Ruth Jones (Amanda Hadingue), an admin worker at student accommodations whose reputation precedes her.
As the lead, Chapman could be Leonard Rossiter’s double, clearly having closely studied Rigsby on screen, perfectly replicating tiny mannerisms when showing Alan around the room and awkwardly skirting around Miss Jones. As is to be expected, many of the funniest lines come from Rigsby who instantly refutes Alan’s suggestion of damp: “How could we possibly have rising damp up here? – we’re miles above sea level”.
Rigsby’s hugely inaccurate judgement of Miss Jones’ character and attempts to woe her are mildly funny. Before Alan is introduced to her, he’s told she’s a “woman of refinement” responsible for things like “blue water” in the toilet but when we actually meet her for the first time she’s wearing a negligee and ready for some action. Ruth’s desperation and sense of melodrama add their own comical dimension to character dynamics, culminating in an exceedingly farcical wardrobe scene and an absurd physical fight for her affections.
Watching banter between the roomies is amusing with Town and Country Planning student, Philip, initially claiming to be the son of a chief with ten wives when he’s actually from Croydon. Philip’s tall stories and invented past are used for on-running jokes throughout the show, including talk of tarmacking the jungle and “love wood”. His relationship with the rather bigoted Rigsby (“He’s a Methodist and they’re all sex mad- they’re known for that…”) is of course another source of light-relief as he butters him up only to dupe him later.
By the end of the play Chappell’s nosey control-freak lead character has endeared himself through his optimism, honesty and obvious desire for love. While a prior knowledge of the original sitcom isn’t necessary, many of the laughs come from cast member’s remarkably accurate portrayals of characters immortalised on screen. Although slapstick in style, the show is on the whole quietly amusing rather than laugh-out-loud but has its moments, including preparations for a double date.
For an opening night the theatre was near empty, perhaps indicative that Rising Damp is more of an acquired taste with a limited fan base; the sudden arrival of the summer sun however, is more likely to have lured audiences away from stuffy auditoriums. As Eric Chappell originally wrote Rising Damp as a stand-alone stage play with a satisfyingly optimistic conclusion, it is much more accessible than more recent sitcom-to-stage adaptations like Yes, Prime Minister and Steptoe & Son.
Rising Damp shows at The Alhambra in Bradford between 8-13 July before continuing its UK tour.