★★★★☆
What a hoot this is. So here’s the scene — it’s the boiling hot summer of 1959 and a couple who seem to have escaped from the American sit-com I Love Lucy have discovered a serviceman from the Second World War with amnesia in, of all the
god-forsaken places, New Jersey.
It is thought that this man doesn’t belong in New Jersey but to a family called the Foxes who live in splendour in the Hamptons. So the I Love Lucy couple take the mysterious Captain Fox to his “home”.
All hell breaks loose, but then you would expect nothing less. It is a particular joy to watch the Lucy character, who has given herself the name Marcee Dupont-Dufort (she insists the “t” be pronounced). She is the original ditsy dame, played by Katherine Kingsley as a cross between Lucille Ball and Joan of Mad Men fame with a bit of Marilyn thrown in.
Why, Marcee is asked, does she think this man is a Fox? “It’s a process of illumina . . . ” Marcee says as her husband (Danny Webb, channelling Groucho Marx) barks: “Elimination!” Marcee insists the soldier has a Hamptons accent: “It was confirmed by a speech podiat . . . ” Groucho shouts: “Pathologist!”
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And so it goes. There are so many American references that I expected someone to start serving us frankfurters and ask us to stand to say the Pledge of Allegiance. This play was originally French, Le Voyageur sans bagage by Jean Anouilh, but Anthony Weigh, the writer, has reset the whole thing, putting it smack dab in the middle of the American dream. It works well, though at times it feels a bit more like “Some Like It Hot Dogs” than the real thing.
The subplots appear to be endless. Captain Fox (if it is he) is not too thrilled be confronted with the mother from hell, played by Sian Thomas in sizzling Mommy Dearest mode.
There are lovers popping up all over the place. There’s even someone hiding in the armoire, not to mention a real live shotgun (well it is America) and so many stuffed animals that it is like “the cast of Bambi” has invaded the bedroom. Rory Keenan makes a dashing Captain Fox (if that is, indeed, his name).
This is a great cartoon fun, an identity crisis comedy that seems the perfect thing for spring, a great way to shoo away the winter blues.
Blanche McIntyre directs at a lively pace though it could have been smoother in places. The set by Mark Thompson feels as if it is something out of old Hollywood, all happy colours and bright vistas.
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The costumes, particular Marcee’s sun-dress ensemble, are superb. The music has a swish to it.
As Marilyn herself might have said: Boop boob e doo. What’s not to like?
Box office 0844 871 7624, until April 16.