THE TIME MACHINE – A COMEDY at the Park Theatre

★★★★

“There is a playfulness that fits the season perfectly. Like a Christmas jumper. It is great fun, but any other time of the year you could never get away with it.”

Yes, it’s that time of year again. Time for normal rules to be put on the back burner. Sparkly and ridiculous clothes are worn without embarrassment or comment, and behavioural patterns stray from the straight and narrow. Usually induced by festive merriment and alcohol, social barriers are pulled down and liaisons instigated (a polite euphemism) that would normally be questionable. It is the time that, in the grey, sober light of a January, many of us will look back on with a touch of regret.

Suffice to say, Dave Hearn, Amy Revelle and Michael Dylan, who comprise ‘Original Theatre’, will look back with befuddled amazement at their antics at the Park Theatre. But there will be no regret whatsoever, such will be the triumphant success of their seasonal yet anarchic take on H.G. Wells’ “The Time Machine”. I say success maybe prematurely – time will tell – but if there’s any justice in the world, my prediction will be right.

It is also timely. ‘Time’ is a trending topic at this moment in time. With Doctor Who’s 60th anniversary occupying our screens and far too many column inches in our media. And with ‘The Time Traveller’s Wife’ soaring into the West End. Time travel has always fascinated us – it is a weighty issue that is usually treated with reverence and intellectual respect. ‘Original Theatre’ are having none of that. Apart from making it one of the most hilarious explorations of the theory, they also bring it riotously into the realms of reality. Almost.

“The trio take us on a delightful tour in H. G. Wells’ time machine, taking liberties with wild abandon and fuelled by reckless and irreverent gags”

Dave Hearn has adopted the surname Wells, claiming to be the great great grandson of the prolific writer and social critic Herbert George Wells. He has taken it upon himself to convince us that his great great grandfather’s novel was, in fact, science fact rather than fiction. After all, he found the original, ink-stained manuscript in his aunt’s attic to prove it. What ensues is a high energy romp through plays within plays within plays (that inevitably go wrong), with much emphasis on the three main paradoxes that render time travel theoretically illogical. The tone is set from the outset. It is bold and heightened, which is a good thing as it needs the chutzpah to overcome a few clichés before it gets into its stride. The pseudo under rehearsed conceit is over-egged, while the dramatic interruptions veer close to predictability. Sometimes the subject matter is at odds with the delivery, but once the concept is fully established, the chaotic, over-the-top humour falls into place. The trio take us on a delightful tour in H. G. Wells’ time machine, taking liberties with wild abandon and fuelled by reckless and irreverent gags.

In the second act, the plot appears to be irrevocably lost, but by now we are absorbed in the personalities and the human touch. A subliminal message of friendship, loyalty and hope is glimpsed somewhere beneath the mayhem, melodrama and histrionics. Writers Steven Canny and John Nicholson have cleverly pulled the characters out of the story and seemingly left them high and dry. It is shrewdly scripted but the performances convince us of the disarray. The audience are invited to help save the show – and perhaps save a life. It could all go horribly wrong, but Orla O’Loughlin’s sprightly direction inspires reassurance, mixed with some Hitchcockian suspense and Buster Keaton style daring – courtesy too of Fred Meller’s set design.

Hearn, Revelle and Dylan have a natural ability to connect with an audience. Yes, the big questions are either glossed over or pebble-dashed into puzzlement, but such concerns are drowned out by the laughs. There is a playfulness that fits the season perfectly. Like a Christmas jumper. It is great fun, but any other time of the year you could never get away with it.

THE TIME MACHINE – A COMEDY at the Park Theatre

Reviewed on 5th December 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Reviewed this year at the Park Theatre:

Ikaria | ★★★★ | November 2023

Passing | ★★★½ | November 2023

The Interview | ★★★ | November 2023

It’s Headed Straight Towards Us | ★★★★★ | September 2023

Sorry We Didn’t Die At Sea | ★★½ | September 2023

The Garden Of Words | ★★★ | August 2023

Bones | ★★★★ | July 2023

Paper Cut | ★★½ | June 2023

Leaves of Glass | ★★★★ | May 2023

The Beach House | ★★★ | February 2023

Winner’s Curse | ★★★★ | February 2023

The Elephant Song | ★★★★ | January 2023

The Time Machine

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★★★★

“The icing on the (Christmas) cake is Paul Wills’ set”

You might think that an adaptation of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” by Mark Gatiss, whose credits include ‘The League of Gentlemen’, ‘Little Britain’, ‘Inside No. 9’, ‘Sherlock’ and ‘Doctor Who’, would have an off-the-wall, surreal quality to it. To an extent you would be right, but overall Gatiss remains remarkably faithful to the original. Of course, there are surprises, twists and quirky humour, but also a profound respect for Dickens’ storytelling, and a forceful reminder that Dickens himself subtitled his novella ‘Being a Ghost Story of Christmas’.

Fittingly it opened just in time for Halloween at the Nottingham Playhouse, before sleighing into town for the run up to Christmas. Alexandra Palace, with its flaking façade and decaying Victorian grandeur, is the perfect setting. A touch too cavernous perhaps, which weakens the intimacy, but director Adam Penford’s production is aiming high for the cinematic scope of the supernatural. And in that he certainly delivers. Ella Wahlström’s surround sound could have come straight from the Dolby Laboratories, while Philip Gladwell’s lighting creates a vast spectrum of moods. The icing on the (Christmas) cake is Paul Wills’ set: an alternative, ramshackle, Victorian nightmare crowded with towering filing cabinets and desks, slickly rotating to reveal the cobbled streets, the graveyards, or the coal-fired warmth of family parlous.

The tale opens with a kind of prologue. Whereas Dickens’ famous opening lines describes Marley as being ‘dead as a doornail’, here we meet Marley very much alive. Albeit very briefly, before snuffing it, and then we flash forward seven years into more familiar territory. Keith Allen’s Scrooge is a bit of a bruiser, with a gentleman’s whiskers, unkempt enough to betray his miserly attitudes to all and sundry – including himself. Allen has an eye for detail, and we see in his facial expressions a boyish vulnerability beneath the thuggishness. His redemption is triggered more by fear than a deep-rooted desire to do right. Indeed, Marley’s ghost is a powerful figure in Peter Forbe’s hands; a booming personality that needs the thick mass of chains to restrain him. The three spirits of past present and future are not so spine-chilling, yet all bewitching in their own distinctive way. Particularly Joe Shire as the Ghost of Christmas Present – a throned, genie-like wizard with enough charisma to shake the loose change from the hardiest skinflint’s pockets.

“Whisps of ghosts fly above our heads as spectral carriages soar past the bell tower”

The human factor is a touch lacking, however, and our hearts are not always tugged sufficiently. It is the atmosphere that drives the piece rather than true emotion. Some chinks let sentiment flicker through, such as Tiny Tim’s deathbed scene. When Scrooge asks if these visions are the ‘shadows of things that will be, or the shadows of things that may be’, we do feel a quiver of feeling, but otherwise the true spirit is largely hidden behind the spectacle.

And a spectacle it is. Whisps of ghosts fly above our heads as spectral carriages soar past the bell tower. John Bulleid’s illusions, with Nina Dunn’s video design and Georgina Lamb’s choreography create a magical world that fills the vast, sepulchral space. For much of the time, though, we feel closer to Halloween than to Christmas, until the closing moments when the cast assemble into a Christmas Card tableau. A rousing ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ with gorgeous harmonies precedes a return to the narrator. Throughout, Geoffrey Beevers weaves a narrative thread that allows much of Dickens’ poetic language and humour to shine; into which Gatiss has thrown in a nice twist for good measure.

In the 1843 publication, Charles Dickens wrote in his preface that he has “endeavoured in this Ghostly little book to raise the Ghost of an idea”. Nearly two centuries later this ghost of an idea has grown into a seasonal favourite. Gatiss has added a few ghosts of his own that can only reinforce the longevity of such a classic. A haunting tale indeed, but still traditional enough to immerse us in the Christmas spirit.

THE TIME MACHINE – A COMEDY at the Park Theatre

★★★★

“There is a playfulness that fits the season perfectly. Like a Christmas jumper. It is great fun, but any other time of the year you could never get away with it.”

“The trio take us on a delightful tour in H. G. Wells’ time machine, taking liberties with wild abandon and fuelled by reckless and irreverent gags”

THE TIME MACHINE – A COMEDY at the Park Theatre