IN THE CLUB. To 25 August.

London.

IN THE CLUB
by Richard Bean.

Hampstead Theatre To 25 August 2007.
Mon-Sat 7.30pm Mat Sat 3pm.
Audio-described 18 August 3pm.
Captioned 14 August.
Post-show discussion 14 August.
Runs 2hr One interval.

TICKETS: 020 7722 9301.
www.hampsteadtheatre.com
Review: Timothy Ramsden 3 August.

First-rate performances in farce that fails to fire.
This is Hampstead Theatre’s second new political farce in half a year, following Alistair Beaton’s King of Hearts. Unlike Beaton, Richard Bean contrives a few good moments and several witty lines. But it’s a dismal evening overall.

Bean’s Club is, primarily, the European Union, and its chief ingredient seems to be gravy. Turkey wants to join, willing to bribe its way in with millions of euros, while for MEPs it’s a festival of fiddled expenses and claims for non-existent employees, making the worst excesses of Westminster look like a pinprick against a bomb-blast (there’s one of those too).

Among the few truly political points are Turkish propaganda and the Dario Fo-like idea that MEPs send themselves bombs in order to appear fearsomely outspoken to their suppliers of well-stuffed brown envelopes – or euro-crammed brief-cases.

That’s about three minutes’ political content in a three-act play. For the rest there are merely glib references that flatter notional audience superiority, and worse. For this is described as a political “sex farce”. Yet any idea it will be driven by the cruelty and desperation necessary for such a thing is undermined by Philip Wardrobe being the most monogamously-minded man in Brussels, any suggestion to the contrary being scuppered within minutes.

“Sex” here isn’t about human urges, but a feeble assemblage of ill-introduced sex toys awkwardly placed in the most embarrassing position to gain momentary laughs.

Which is this play’s over-riding fault. It lacks the logical necessity that leads to the absurd complexities of good farce. Everything’s short-term, a jumble rather than a through-line. Characters repeatedly switch intentions merely to set up another predetermined joke; Huw Higginson’s corruption investigator lacks any consistency in his aims, something his sharp performance can’t wholly conceal. And this most cruel of genres ends here with soft sentiment.

The result’s desperately unfunny, despite the full-gloss of David Grindley’s hard-working production, in which James Fleet’s Vicar of Dibley fans won’t be disappointed, Sian Brooke’s illegal-immigrant PA adds a note of reflection while working hard to motor events, and Richard Moore’s grotesque Yorkshire farmer and UKIP MEP is a superbly robust comic turn.

Sasha: Sian Brooke.
Gendarme: Dermot Canavan.
Philip Wardrobe: James Fleet.
Beatrice Renard: Anna Francolini.
Andre: Huw Higginson.
Frau Flugelhammerlein: Carol Macready.
Nicola Daws: Carla Mendonca.
Eddie Fredericks: Richard Moore.
Mehmet: Gary Oliver.
Archbishop/Doctor: Roderick Smith.

Director: David Grindley.
Designer: Jonathan Fensom.
Lighting: Jason Taylor.
Sound: Gregory Clarke.
Voice/Dialect coach: Majella Hurley.
Assistant director: Anna Ledwich.

2007-08-04 09:45:21