Jean Anouilh's Ring Round The Moon is so elegantly stylish that its easy to overlook its convoluted plot and often surreal moments of farce – which would be a shame because it's one of the funniest, madcap, comedies I've seen in years.
Superficially it all seems so frothy. Women in to-die-for Dior inspired gowns, the men in spats and sharp suits, a story of love, lust and mistaken identity in 1950s French society that is so typically Gallic.
But dig a little deeper and you unear
th a biting satire about snobbery and the power of money in a deeply divided society.
That doesn't mean that the audience is bombarded with an angsty and profound diatribe, in fact, the opposite. Christopher Fry's adaptation will leave you with a smile on your face from hearing intelligent and sparkling dialogue that fizzes with freshness, delivered by a couture cast that have as much fun on stage as the audience has watching the hilarious story unfold.
We're in post-war France in the rather austere conservatory of a grand house where the chatelaine, the formidable Madame Desmortes, is holding court.
The wheelchair-bound and imperious dowager has gathered friends and family for a society ball.
You have to have your wits about you to follow the plot from here on but it's worth sticking with it because every twist and turn is a gem.
Favoured nephews, the identical twins, Hugo and Frederic, are there along with the latter's paramour, heiress Diana Messerchmann, her father, his mistress and (male) secretary, and family friend, the neurotic Romainville.
Their love lives are as tangled as the storyline but all becomes clear (well, almost) as the farce gets into its stride. Fred loves Diana, but it's an unrequited love that leaves him moping in the bushes under her bedroom window each night. The problem is that Diana loves Hugo – she thinks - The brothers are so alike the feckless girl is not really sure who she's fallen in love with, and Hugo spurns the attraction.
Meanwhile the lusty Lady India, mistress of the multi-billionaire financier Messerschmann, is romping with her lover's secretary, Patrice under his nose, a situation is accepts with resignation.
Enter into the melee the fragrant Isabelle, a sweet and naïve young dancer who is hired by the malicious Hugo for the night to woo his lovesick brother away from Diana.
There are no ugly step-sisters in this fairy-tale but it has the makings of a Cinderella romance. The only problem is – who is prince charming?
Hugo, the epitome of upper class arrogance, is a cold, manipulative, and emotionally barren young man, who is blessed with the looks of a young Jude Law ( circa The Talented Mr Ripley) while his brother is a born romantic, kind and decent but a bit of a wet rag.
Isabelle, backed by her pushy mother, plays her part to perfection until she realises the hurt she is causing both to herself and the men.
Woven into the often manic proceedings of the night are moments of madness when each of the characters takes centre stage.
The most noteworthy of these is when Messerschmenn renounces his vast wealth and proceeds to tear his fortune to shreds right before the eyes of the impoverished Isabelle (Fiona Button).
He makes the most of the moment, throwing himself onto the floor and denouncing his wealth before confessing to the stoic, world-weary butler, (Peter Eyre on topping dead-pan form) that money hadn't brought him any happiness.
The smartly dressed Leigh Lawson had been given little to do until the second half other than provide well-groomed support to the women of the cast, whether it's his daughter or host though, oddly, he shares no scenes with his mistress.
West End newcomer JJ Feild carries the burden of most of the scenes as he dashes off stage right and left as the twins. He'll be considerably fitter and probably a stone lighter by the time the run ends as he darts about changing character in mid-sprint, even coming on twice to accept the well-earned applause of the audience.
Feild is very charismatic and charming and perfect as the cad, Hugo, a man from old money with the manners of the nouveau riche.
Audrey Fforbes-Hamilton would have been proud of her one-time companion, Marjorie. Angela Thorne, as Madame Desmortes, does steely aristocratic snob very well, even though she is stifled by spending the play in a wheelchair.
It's almost a disservice to call the remaining characters, the supporting cast, because they are some of our finest actors. Joanna David as Capulat, the mousy companion to madame, the scene-stealing Belinda Lang as Isabelle's horrendous mother, Emily Bruni as Lady India, Elisabeth Dermot Walsh as the capricious Diana, and John Ramm, so good in Chichester's revival of Nicholas Nickleby, as the highly strung Romainville.
Ring Round The Moon runs at The Playhouse Theatre, Northumberland Avenue, WC2, until March 29, and is well worth a trip into London.
For tickets call 0870 060 6631.
The full article contains 855 words and appears in Leighton Buzzard Observer newspaper.
