You have to pity the poor sod who had to write the risk assessment for The Play That Goes Wrong. Every trip hazard, loose fitting, dangling wire, faulty appliance, badly constructed frame, wrongly labeled toxic liquid and unfit-for-purpose prop imaginable seems to be recruited into the mechanics of a resistentialist (a ”mock philosophy which maintains that inanimate objects are hostile to humans”) farce.
It is all impeccably choreographed and obviously rehearsed to the point of almost obsessive precision, of course. But there are plenty of moments – the scene where the raised floor of a furnished upper room half collapses, spilling actor and contents crashing toward the ground, for instance – where I winced at the possibility of something genuinely going wrong. And there are a couple of sight gags – the sloshing rounds of turps instead of whisky that make the actors literally gag – which made me recoil in horror each time, even though I knew it was harmless water. There is something really wrong in pouring a drink from a five litre container of white spirit. It’s a genuine choking hazard.
Half the fun of watching something like this is knowing that the chaos is tightly controlled, and we can enjoy the frenetic spectacle of people in jeopardy without anxiety. In real life the play would have been closed down owing to a long list of health and safety infringements as well as a number of criminal offences. The gusto with which the stage manager batters the vampy actress with a metal tray would have got her sent down for Actual Bodily Harm, and the set builder’s joinery inadequacies would land him with several counts of reckless endangerment. The director ought be charged and receive the maximum sentence for a crime against culture.
The other half of the fun (for me at least) is spotting the inspiration and influences of some of the comedy. Inspector Carter obviously derives from Basil Fawlty, and there’s a bit of Manuel mixed with the waitress from Victoria Wood/Julie Walters’ “Two Soups” sketch in the butler Perkins. The physical comedy reminded me of Michael Crawford in “Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em” and the final total set collapse was right out of Laurel and Hardy. The Two Ronnie’s did a brilliant Mastermind skit
( Q: And so, to our first contestant. Good evening! Your name, please!
A: Good evening!
Q: Your chosen subject was answering questions before you are asked. This time, you`ve chosen to answer the question before last, each time, is that correct?
A: Charlie Smithers.)
that must have been the source of the scene with the mixed up lines, and I couldn’t help hearing a nod to a Les Dawson delivery in the scene where the director lists the previous, less than landmark productions of “The Two Sisters” and “The Lion and the Wardrobe”, not to mention their slimmed down musical presentation, “Cat”. I’m sure there are others that you’ll have a great time spotting.
You don’t go to this type of thing for any insight into global capitalism or in-depth analysis of the extent of moral decline under conditions of austerity; it’s pure escapist fun. And it’s brilliantly done, not a roller-coaster, more a demolition derby of an evening where everything starts in a bit of a state and progressively things break down, get trashed, blow up, collapse until finally nothing is left standing.
It’s only on until July 12, so get your tickets for performances at The Grand online before they all go.