Richard Bean has become as much a master of contemporary comedy as Richard Brinsley Sheridan was in his own time. It is therefore appropriate that today’s master should draw what might well have been the funniest play of 2022 from its equivalent in 1775.
Bean has a strong canon of work and is best known for another National Theatre hit, One Man, Two Guvnors, based on Goldoni’s A Servant to Two Masters, which starred Oliver Chris, who has collaborated in the writing of this new work.
The two comedies inevitably have much in common, taking the structure and characters of a historical gem and moving them forward through the centuries. In character and style, Jack Absolute Flies Again is more obviously recognisable as a lively collaboration between contemporary writers Bean and Chris than a replay of Sheridan.
The duo have updated The Rivals to the Battle of Britain and relocated the drama to Mark Thompson’s cartoon-like converted country house that has become RAF Fontwell in Sussex and is peopled by a hilarious group of largely stereotypical characters.
Even more so than in the original, Caroline Quentin’s lonely but opinionated Mrs Malaprop, whose fame landed her in the dictionary, is the central character. Throughout a performance of just over two hours, she hilariously reels off risqué double entendres to the delight of the live audience, while attempting to charm the choleric army officer, Sir Anthony Absolute portrayed by Peter Forbes.
Another secondary character, saucy servant girl Lucy, played by Kerry Howard, also has a habit of stealing scenes, primarily because she has been cast as one of the primary narrators and regularly becomes embroiled in witty meta-theatrical musings.
The main engine of the story, beyond the stirring efforts of the flyers to save dear old Blighty from the Hun, excitingly brought to life at the end of each act, features the efforts of Laurie Davidson as titular hooray Henry, Jack Absolute (think of Oliver Chris as Stanley Stubbers in One Man, Two Guvnors) to charm lovely Lydia Languish, Natalie Simpson playing an upper-class girl who fancies someone a little rougher, when she is not indulging in her own consistently amusing version of Cockney rhyming slang.
The path of true love rarely runs smoothly in comedies, and a quartet of perspective wooers (including a pair who refer to each other as Squidgy and Wobbles) each find obstacles blocking their routes to happiness.
Under the direction of Emily Burns, the jokes come thick and fast for just over two hours and are consistently funny, taking potshots at class and gender issues as well as xenophobia. The plot sometimes can sometimes take second place but echoes the original and, in amongst the periodically absurdist slapstick, has moments that are genuinely moving.
As the holiday season approaches, there can be few better ways of whiling away a couple of hours than catching up with a top class, well-acted comedy.
National Theatre at Home is available on subscription, broadcasts in HD, costs only £9.99 for a month or £99.99 for a year and is worth every penny.