London Assurance

by Dion Boucicault

The funniest play I think I have ever seen was The Shaughraun, which I saw at the National about 20 years ago. I still remember the funeral scene, the dog and that for the only time ever in my experience, they had to do an encore to get the audience out. The Shaughran was by an Irish Victorian playwright who churned out hundreds of plays, a small number of which were now considered gems. The writer was Boucicault and London Assurance was his first masterpiece.

In honesty, there is little to say about this wonderful production. To see superb actors playing farce is a rare pleasure, and if there was a duff note in this production it passed me by. The plot is minimal, but the targets, even from a gulf of 150 years are very clear; this is about the incompatibility of Town and Country and the absurdity of London fashionability and manners. In other words, it could have been written yesterday. There is also a solicitor whose only role in the story is to be insulted by absolutely everyone. He really has nothing to contribute apart from being the butt of jokes, from town or country, rich or poor, gentry or servant everyone insults the solicitor. There is a servant, Cool, who is insufferably more stuck up than his master, a young man called Dazzle who ingratiates himself where ever he goes. When challenged at the end as to whom he really is, he doesn’t actually know, so used is he to aping the manners of whoever he is sponging off. The love story is the dullest bit, of course, but even this is enlivened by a rather more knowing attitude between them.

It is the oldies who have the fun. Simon Russell Beale is Sir Harcourt Courtly. He is vain, egotistical and quite preposterous. Beale’s performance is remarkable, as he acts him acting his every move. When Sir Harcourt stands up he first poses then relaxes into position. When he walks, each step is composed and choreographed. Every word is chosen for effect, every gesture, every action is calculated to contribute to the image of Sir Harcourt, an elegant man of fashion. He is absurd. Squire Harkaway represents the country and although portrayed as coming from Gloucester, is a stereotypical Yorkshireman. He puts it bluntly, always and has no time for the airs and graces. Wonderfully he is unfussed as a huge rat appears in the drawing room, telling the horrified Sir Harcourt that he likes to shoot them, but it makes a mess of the carpets. But the comic genius is Fiona Shaw’s Lady Gay Spanker, a woman who is largely horse and only a bit human. Her entire life is about hunting and horseflesh, with humans way down the list. In particular her husband Adolphus, played by Richard Briers. I think Briers must have set a record for laughs achieved per line spoken. I doubt if he has 25 lines in the entire play, but he has the audience in hysteria most of the time. Indeed, his mere entrance had the place in hysterics before he had spoken word.

The plot isn’t worth worrying about, the set is brilliant, the acting without criticism and it was quite extraordinarily funny, from the fist line to the final – where Beale allows himself to be upstaged by a remote control rat. In fact the only real question to answer is, was it funnier than The Shaughran? Perhaps on the back of this, it will be revived so we have an opportunity to compare.

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