Brothers Robert and David Goodale have made a brave attempt to translate the wonderful characters and language of Wodehouse to the stage, which largely succeeds with the help of some brilliantly imaginative direction by Marieke Audsley, helped by Olivia du Monceau's inspired design. Yes, it's yet another of those comic literary adaptations that makes lots of jokes about the fact that a cast of three are rushing around playing many characters each, but, unlike many of these, it does pay a great deal of attention to the story on which it is based as well.
That story is based on the plot of The Code of the Woosters, the 1938 novel in which Bertie's Aunt Dahlia asks him to help reduce the price of a silver cow creamer that her husband Tom, an avid collector of such items, has his eye on. However a rival collector, Sir Watkyn Basset, a magistrate in front of whom Bertie once appeared for stealing a policeman's helmet, is also after this piece of silverware, and he is accompanied by his future nephew-in-law and thuggish leader of a local fascist group Roderick Spode.
All the parties end up at Basset's country house, Totleigh Towers, where Bertie goes to heal a rift between his newt-fancying friend Gussie Fink-Nottle and Basset's daughter Madeline, but there are many more complications involving plots to steal the cow creamer, a book of insults that may fall into the wrong hands, the danger of Bertie having to marry someone and why Spode suddenly stops trying to kill Bertie at the mention of "Eulalie".
The adaptation uses Wooster as narrator, just as in the books, which means that we get more of Wodehouse's delicious turns of phrase than if it was all in straight dialogue. The downside of this is that quite a few of the most exciting scenes, particularly later on when the farce builds, that are described verbally rather than shown, which isn't the same, however excitedly the actor's relate the events.
Wooster takes great delight in involving the audience and is amazed by the way Jeeves has arranged for the set to be changed and how he and Seppings, butler to Aunt Dahlia, change characters. This is often funny and perfectly in character, but for me it got a bit wearing after a while and held up the story.
However, the set is pretty spectacular on the Octagon's small stage, ingeniously transforming the wood-veneered surroundings with various doors and panels into the different locations. The car assembled from a fire grate and other bits and pieces is particular satisfying, especially when Seppings stops them for the level crossing. There are also some very impressive quick costume changes, a running gag of Spode being particularly tall that worked well every time and various ways of an actor playing two characters who are speaking to one another, culminating in the Tommy Cooper split costume idea, which went down very well with the audience.
Luke Barton plays the lovable upper class idiot Bertie well, while Alistair Cope as Seppings and Patrick Warner as Jeeves each play many different characters, male and female, most in full Edwardian costume and all distinctly different.
While I have a few reservations about the script, the adapters have allowed Wodehouse's language and characters to shine through, and the imaginative, well-paced staging and sheer energy in this production make this a satisfying and entertaining night at the theatre.