Review
Guardian: Robin Thornber
If the jokes feel familiar, that is
the point. Most of them are 400 years old, tried and tested. Oxford
Stage Company’s latest tour celebrates the commedia dell’arte form that
was the source of pantomime, stand-up and situation comedy. It had the
audience on its feet at the end.
This is the first time that Antonio Fava, one of the leaders of
the commedia revival in Italy, has worked with an English professional
company. As director and designer, he has coached the performers in the
techniques of movement and improvisation that bring to life the stock
characters of greedy, randy old men, frustrated romantic lovers and
wily, bungling servants.
With Dario Fo and Jacques Lecoq, Fava has thoroughly researched
the clowning traditions – such as the use of masks – which had almost
been wiped out, even in Italy, by modern approaches to text-based
theatre. One of those traditions is the scenario – an outline plot
framework which leaves the actors free to ad-lib local and topical
references as they tour village squares outside of establishment
patronage.
So Love Is A Drug, devised by Renata Allen, is taken from a
sixteenth century Ur-text (Flamino Scala’s La Creduta Morta, The Woman
Who Appeared Dead, not entirely unrelated to Romeo and Juliet) and
up-dated nightly. This is real actors’ theatre, where performers are
not just allowed but encouraged to use their minds as well as their
bodies and voices, and to play to the audience rather than the script.
The importance of the relationship between the actors working in
this way is even spelled out in a Noises Off sort of
play-within-the-play (or maybe just outside and around it), which gives
a real edge to the balance between cooperation and competition within
the company.
I wouldn’t want to single out any of the seven, equally dedicated
performers (Jonathan Coyne, Andrew Dennis, Clive Duncan, Kate
Fleetwood, Andrew Frame, William Lawrence and Lisa Turner) but the
first night audience selected Turner for a spontaneous burst of
applause for her brave, scat mad scene as Isabella.
Sometimes it seems unsubtle, predictable, peasant humour. Vulgar
it is, in the best sense. Yet it combines a rigorous, academic
historicism – this is archaeology into the roots of theatre – with
sudden flashes of “Oh, that’s where that came from!” that you can
relate to current West End or last night’s television. I laughed and
learned a lot – not least from the Oxford Stage Company’s informative,
well-designed booklet of a programme.