Allegra

4

About twenty years ago I went to the Old Vic for a performance of Alladin where the big attraction was supposed to be Ian McKellen’s Widow Twankey. But what I took away from it was an admiration for the unique talents of Maureen Lipman. Playing a fairly thankless supporting role, she was left stranded on stage as a scene change failed, and for the next ten minutes ad libbed brilliantly in what turned out to be the best part of an over-hyped, self-regarding show. I don’t know of another actor who could have entertained the audience in such continuously brilliant, upbeat and life-affirming, witty patter. I was reminded off this special set of skills in her return to touring in Peter Quilter’s new comedy Allegra, which recently took up residence at the Richmond Theatre.

Now aged 80 (’80 is the new 40′, she quipped at the curtain call) she has lost none of her vitality, energy and inventive panache in delivering physical comedy and striking one-liners. Remarkably her voice is still in good shape too, admirably showcased in a play about an amiable eccentric, Allegra, who cannot resist the temptation to burst into showtunes in public spaces, much to the gathering irritation of neighbours, tradesmen, and ultimately the police. The first half of the show demonstrates the attempts of authority figures, whether her long-suffering brother, a Czech carer brought in to restore order to her life, or the local bobby to put some constraints around her behaviour. While the second half, altogether darker, shows the results of suppressing her irresistible desire to entertain.

Beyond Lipman herself, there is some good acting on show. As her brother, Ronen, John Middleton gives a finely calibrated performance, whether as the exasperated carer or the anxious and repressed younger brother. The emotional dependency of two people with such contrasted characters is very well developed by both actors. As the plain-speaking Czech carer and housekeeper, Anna Elizabeth Bower, offers both empathy and pushback, and a quirky humour of her own. Bailey Patrick as the long-suffering police officer starts severe and officious before thawing delightfully into both musical and practical collaboration.

I found the writing uneven. Much of the humour in the first half felt flat and obvious, not landing as it should with what was a very sympathetic and responsive audience. The jokes seemed predictable and the playing somewhat subdued. But by the interval and then throughout the whole of an excellent second half the pace picked up and with a greater sprinkling of musical numbers, the audience became more engaged. Again much of the credit for this rests with Lipman who is an irresistible force of nature and capable of winning anyone over with her infectious, zany enthusiasm. The writing was taughter too, and therefore funnier. Quilter raises some important serious points about how over-regulated our society is, how intolerant of eccentricity despite its overt and superficial celebration of diversity. After all, why should Allegra be medicated to repress her animal spirits when perhaps the depressed and repressed people around her would benefit more?

The detailed set, depicting a well furnished middle-class home Allegra has inherited, opened up well to facilitate the fantasy sequences, though I am not entirely sure what the upper level was for, as it was hardly used except for the projection of lyrics. Stephen Mear, responsible for both choreography and direction, skilfully negotiated the shifts between realism and escapism, with many delicate transitions of mood between sombre and surreal.

The production is transferring to the West End, where it deserves to succeed, not least so we can savour Lipman’s unique theatrical personality in full flow one more time. But they do need to tighten up that first half-hour or so of the first act.

 

Richmond Theatre

Writer: Peter Quilter

Director and Choreographer: Stephen Mear

Cast: Elizabeth Bower, Maureen Lipman, John Middleton, Bailey Patrick

Until 13 June, then touring and Harold Pinter Theatre, West End in July

2 hours 30 mins, with interval

Photo Credit: Marc Brenner