Tag Archives: Chichester Festival Theatre

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

★★★★

Chichester Festival Theatre

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★★

“brims with swearing, colloquialisms, double entendres, and joyful absurdity”

Nikolai Gogol’s razor-sharp satire The Government Inspector gets a bawdy and riotous reimagining in this new adaptation by Phil Porter, directed with pantomimic glee by Gregory Doran in his Chichester debut. Fuelled by farcical energy, the production is packed with verbal wit and physical comedy that rarely misses a beat.

The plot is deceptively simple: a small, corrupt provincial town panics at news that a government inspector is due to arrive incognito. When they mistake a feckless young civil servant for the feared official, chaos ensues. Enter Tom Rosenthal as Khlestakov, the supposed inspector, who quickly realises he can exploit the town’s credulous officials – a rollicking parade of grotesques, each more deluded than the last – for money, food, flattery, and more.

Rosenthal, best known for Friday Night Dinner and Plebs, brings his trademark hapless charm to Khlestakov, a delightfully louche fantasist revelling in the absurd power thrust upon him. In between extracting money, goods, and favours, he sets about seducing the Mayor’s wife (Sylvestra Le Touzel) – gloriously ridiculous, flirtatious, and determined to outshine her own daughter – and the daughter herself (Laurie Ogden), whose wide-eyed naïvety is tinged with a quiet desperation to be noticed. Ideally, he’d have both.

On first meeting Khlestakov in his sleazy accommodation, he seems somewhat subdued – especially compared with the cavalcade of comic officials who dominate early on with scene-stealing flourishes. But Rosenthal’s performance builds into a compelling piece of comic buffoonery – especially in a hilariously drunken return to the Mayor’s house after a boozy lunch. He is ably supported by Nick Haverson as Osip, his sardonic, long-suffering manservant.

Lloyd Hutchinson gives a standout performance as the morally bankrupt Mayor, his sweaty desperation rendered with delicious physicality. He’s joined by a motley crew of officials, each scrambling to ingratiate themselves and slip the impostor a few hundred roubles. There are strong comic turns throughout: Joe Dixon’s pompous Judge, whose knees keep giving way; Christopher Middleton’s cigar-fumbling Head of Schools; Oscar Pearce’s gleefully self-serving Charity Commissioner, all too happy to reveal the Mayor’s misdeeds; and Reuben Johnson’s jittery Postmaster. Miltos Yerolemou and Paul Rider are particularly entertaining as Bobchinsky and Dobchinsky – a Tweedledum-and-Tweedledee pair of nosy busybodies, obsessed with their own imagined importance.

These absurd officials are starkly contrasted with the town’s merchants, who visit the supposed inspector seeking justice, only to be swindled again. Leigh Quinn’s Sergeant’s Widow delivers a quietly devastating moment as she recounts being publicly beaten, revealing the scars on her back. It’s a grim reminder that beneath the foolery lie real-world consequences.

Porter’s script is sprightly and accessible, injecting Gogol’s 19th-century satire with contemporary irreverence. It brims with swearing, colloquialisms, double entendres, and joyful absurdity. Standout lines include Khlestakov describing the Mayor’s wife as a “randy old honey badger” and boasting he has “a pie in every finger” – playful, outrageous, and unexpectedly sharp.

The opening scene hints at something more substantial. The Mayor, pondering why St Petersburg might be sending a government inspector to their backwater, dismisses the idea of war – confidently assuring his colleagues that Russia would never be interested in such a remote place. It’s a fleeting but pointed allusion to contemporary geopolitics and a knowing nod to Gogol’s Ukrainian identity (acknowledged in the programme). While this moment garners a chuckle, such modern resonance is quickly left behind, as the production commits more fully to good-natured farce than to drawing serious parallels with 21st-century politics.

The production embraces the meta-theatricality woven into Gogol’s text. The characters’ frantic need to impress is echoed in the actors’ heightened delivery, exaggerated movement (thanks to movement director Mike Ashcroft), and frequent breaking of the fourth wall. The final “frozen tableau” – the moment of stunned silence when the real inspector is announced – is held just long enough to become hilariously awkward, prompting uneasy titters and a ripple of recognition.

Francis O’Connor’s set design captures a world teetering between grandeur and decay. The Mayor’s office-turned-drawing-room features filing cabinets bursting with paper and oversized doors that suggest delusions of grandeur. The inn’s squalid room, with its grimy skylight and claustrophobic scale, offers a stark contrast – and provides an excellent setup for a well-executed physical comedy. O’Connor’s costumes are a visual feast: lavish, absurd, and sharply attuned to each character’s vanity and social pretensions, particularly in the cases of the Mayor’s preening wife and posturing daughter.

Doran keeps the whole machine ticking with precision. The pace never flags. This is a lively and well-crafted revival that entertains with gusto. While it flirts with deeper contemporary parallels through its satirical edge, it ultimately settles for broad, enjoyable farce – and a very enjoyable one it is.



THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

Chichester Festival Theatre

Reviewed on 1st May 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

 

 

 


 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE | ★★★½ | January 2025
REDLANDS | ★★★★ | September 2024

 

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

★★★½

Chichester Festival Theatre

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★½

“a lively and enjoyable take on a beloved operetta”

Donna Stirrup’s new production of The Pirates of Penzance offers a fresh perspective on Gilbert and Sullivan’s beloved operetta. Produced by Pirates (Penzance) Ltd in association with Tarantara Productions Ltd, this staging features a nearly 50-strong company of singers and musicians, delivering Sullivan’s intricate score and Gilbert’s witty wordplay with remarkable energy. The result is a polished rendition that retains much of the charm of the original work, though it occasionally stumbles in its attempt to innovate.

Stirrup’s decision to move the action from the late 19th century to 1919 raises intriguing questions. In the programme, she asks, “Do pirates always have to be done with frilly shirts and bandanas?” The answer here is definitively no. Laura Jane Stanfield’s costume design is more Peaky Blinders than Pirates of the Caribbean, dressing the Pirate King in a sharply cut three-piece suit, while his crew sport muted, earthy tones and chunky wool jumpers. Flat caps abound, and the occasional eye patch or hook appear as self-styled accessories, markers of their identity as “pirates.” This aesthetic repositioning casts the pirates as post-WWI figures—perhaps damaged soldiers or opportunistic profiteers—adding an intriguing layer to the story of Frederic, a young man caught between duty to his former comrades and his newfound love.

Frederic, having completed his accidental apprenticeship with the pirates, resolves to leave their company and lead an honest life. He soon falls for Mabel, one of the daughters of the eccentric Major General. However, his freedom is short-lived when he learns he was born on 29 February, meaning he is still bound to the pirates for another 60 years. This revelation sets the stage for a playful mix of romance, comedy, and farcical twists, leading to a light-hearted resolution.

While the concept of the pirates as post-war figures is intriguing, it remains underexplored. Conductor Martin Handley hints in the programme that the pirates are “damaged goods,” scarred by their experiences, but this idea is not fully developed in the performances or direction. As a result, the pirates’ motivations and back stories feel ambiguous, making the post-war context feel more like a stylistic choice than a fully realised reinterpretation.

The performances, however, bring energy and charisma to the stage. Jonathan Eyers commands attention as the Pirate King, his rich baritone lending gravitas to the role. Guy Elliott’s Frederic is earnest and engaging, his bespectacled appearance suggesting more Oxbridge graduate than indentured pirate. Sioned Gwen Davies makes a striking Ruth, the woman who raised Frederic, opening the show slumped in a battered leather chair, smoking and drinking. Dressed in luxurious black and green velvet, with bold patterns and in one scene a dramatic hat adorned with feathers and a parrot’s head, she exudes both grit and a touch of flamboyance.

Ellie Laugharne’s Mabel brings emotional depth and vocal clarity to the role, particularly in ‘Poor Wand’ring One,’ which she performs with a delightful sense of parody. Presented as bookish and in mourning, she is contrasted by her more frivolous sisters, whose demeanour (and costuming) provide a light-hearted foil. Barry Clark’s Major General is a comedic highlight, delivering the iconic ‘I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General’ with gusto. Dressed in a red-and-white striped bathing suit, Union Jack socks, and brown sandals, his struggles with a deckchair add to the hilarity. The bumbling police force also provides plenty of laughs in their numbers ‘Tarantara’ and ‘A Policeman’s Lot Is Not a Happy One,’ with their antics, including the relief of removing their boots and sharing a chocolate bar, bringing additional levity.

Stanfield’s minimalist set design supports the action effectively, with a raised wooden pontoon doubling as a pirate ship, a Cornish beach, and the Major General’s (bought) ancestral home. Simple backdrops—a ship’s sail, a ‘Welcome to Penzance’ train poster, and a Union Jack—help establish the various settings. The orchestra, visible behind the backdrops, performs with vibrancy and sensitivity under Handley’s baton, allowing Sullivan’s score to shine without overpowering the singers.

While some of the wordplay may be lost, either through enunciation or the theatre’s acoustics, the vocal performances are exemplary, and the staging is inventive. The reimagining of the time setting, though interesting, doesn’t fully explore the post-war themes, yet the production still delivers plenty of humour, energy, and exceptional musicality. Ultimately, this Pirates of Penzance is a lively and enjoyable take on a beloved operetta, with spirited performances that make for a thoroughly delightful night out.

 



THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

Chichester Festival Theatre the UK tour continues

Reviewed on 9th January 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Pamela Raith

 

 


 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

REDLANDS | ★★★★ | September 2024

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

THE PIRATE

S OF PENZANCE

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

 

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